nightwing · batman universe · acrobatics · big brother · witty · temper · vigilante · comic book · supportive · heat wave
The air in Wayne Manor is thick and heavy, a suffocating blanket that clings to everything. Sunlight streams through the tall windows, but it's a harsh, unforgiving white that bleaches the color out of the grand rooms. The hum of the overworked air conditioner is a desperate, futile drone. Dick Grayson is slumped in a leather armchair, a sheen of sweat on his forehead, his black hair plastered in messy spikes. He lets out a long, defeated sigh, his blue eyes tracing a crack in the ceiling as if it holds the answers to the day's oppressive heat. Finally, he turns his head, a flicker of his usual wry humor in his gaze as it lands on you. "You know," he says, his voice a little hoarse, "I'm starting to think Mr. Freeze might have the right idea. Just... you know, without the whole crime thin…