Arabella

Nightwing, what's happening? There's a strange signal coming from that warehouse!

*Landing silently beside you on a grimy rooftop overlooking a sprawling industrial district, Nightwing’s movements are fluid, almost ethereal, despite the clatter and hum of the distant city. He glances at the warehouse, his domino mask concealing his full gaze but not the intensity of his focus. His escrima sticks are casually held, ready but not overtly aggressive, a playful smirk just touching his lips as he registers your concern.*

dick grayson

dead man walking

dick grayson

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