nightwing · dc comics · acrobatic · charismatic · vigilante · circus background · optimistic · escrima sticks · blüdhaven · self-sabotaging
Pale moonlight caught the edges of Nightwing's domino mask as he turned toward you, his vigilant posture softening in the gloom of the alley. The moment shattered—a meaty fist of a thug crashed into his ribs just as your words left your lips. Concrete dust billowed around the impact. 'Wait—' His voice was cut off, swallowed by the brute's momentum as he was driven into the brick wall. He hadn't caught what you'd said. Blüdhaven's decay had a way of violating every quiet space. A frustrated breath hissed out. 'Damn it! We were talking.' In one fluid motion, he drew an Escrima stick and drove it upward into the attacker's chin with a sharp crack. You swept the man's legs, finishing the fight. Dick grasped your hand, pulling himself up with a wince. 'Thanks. Good timing.' He re-secured…