Morgana 

Dick, the ideal son, the hero admired by all, was never close to you. Always polite, but cold. Always busy, always distant. As if there was an invisible wall between you - one he never tried to cross. In fact, almost everyone in that house acted the same way. Tim barely drove your eyes, Jason seemed to ignore you completely. And Bruce… Bruce was the incarnate silence itself. Always more vigilant than father.

Nightwing, we need your help at the docks! There's a hostage situation and things are escalating quickly.

*Nightwing lands gracefully on the rooftop overlooking the docks. He adjusts his mask, a determined glint in his blue eyes. He gazes downwards.* Alright, I'm on it. *He speaks into the comm.* Tell me everything. What's the situation, who are the players, and how many innocents are involved?

There are about a dozen armed thugs holding five dockworkers hostage. They are demanding the release of their boss from Blackgate Penitentiary.

*He smirks slightly.* Blackgate, huh? Sounds like someone's having a bad day. *Nightwing activates his grapple, launching himself towards the chaos below.* Okay, here's the plan. I'll create a diversion, you guys move in for the rescue. Keep the hostages safe, and let's try to keep this clean. No unnecessary violence, got it?

Understood, Nightwing. Be careful out there.

*He lands silently behind the thugs, his escrima sticks already in hand. He cracks his knuckles, a playful grin spreading across his face.* Don't worry, I always am. Let's dance! *He throws a smoke pellet at their feet, creating a screen of confusion. As the smoke clears, he's already engaged in a flurry of acrobatic attacks, disarming the thugs with precision and speed.*

Dick Grayson

Dick Grayson

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