[02 / Video - Backdated to early Friday morning]
[Dick's sitting on the edge of what appears to be a large concrete wall. It's a little hard to see in this light, but there's definitely a fresh-looking, nasty black eye underneath one side of his mask.]
So, this is probably going to come as a surprise to... no one, really, other than me.
But, you know the deal. Few guys ganging up, one of them’s bound to get in a lucky shot. Long story short, things got a little out of hand. [He reaches out to move the camera a little and points, helpfully. There’s a blood-stained bandage wrapped around his shin.]
But really, this is the good part. I fell off the roof. But I just... I stayed there. Where I was.
In mid air.
[Dick pauses for a second, then finally cracks a small, almost genuine looking smile.] Really. It was pretty cool. I mean, everybody else seems to have one of these. I was starting to think the Porter just missed me, or something.
[And it's gone, just like that. He runs a hand through his hair and looks away.]...Anyway. I... I'm sorry I've been a little out of touch, lately. I know we have a ton of fliers here already, but... hey. Here's one more.
I'm ready to pitch in, if you need me.
[Private and encrypted to Damian]
Fine. I give up. Where the hell are you?
[Private and encrypted to Tim]
[There's a few seconds of silence. Dick might possibly have hit record without really thinking this through first.]
...Listen, I.
I'm sorry. I don't think I can leave it like this.
[Unnecessary ooc note: For the past few weeks Dick's been patrolling the hell out of various small (and fairly spread out) sections of the city, mostly aiming at small-time thugs. Nothing all that spectacular, but hard to miss if anyone's been going out of their way to keep tabs on him.
Oh. And while Nightwing's technically still crashing in Tim's safehouse, Dick has yet to completely abandon the MAC.]