Nightwing is waiting for her on the rooftop of the McCullar building, his breath wisping into the frigid, early dawn. Last stop before he goes home. It's been a long night, so he's not really feeling the cold. Beating on lowlives and dodging bullets tends to get the circulation going, and most of the time that circulation even gets to stay in his body.
He's perched on a stone promontory that overlooks downtown, looking almost like part of the architecture.
Can't think where he gets that from.
He straightens on his treacherous perch, turning easily on the slick stone to look at her.
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He's perched on a stone promontory that overlooks downtown, looking almost like part of the architecture.
Can't think where he gets that from.
He straightens on his treacherous perch, turning easily on the slick stone to look at her.
Hey.