"Yes." The Batman moved from one mugger to the next binding each in the same fashion, quick, efficient, and probably painful for the jackass when he woke up. The Batman slowly stood, hands closing into fists for a moment before they relaxed at "his" sides.

"Who are you?" The Batman's voice was flat; there were no head tilts, no gestures for inflection, that might give away who was inside. It was almost robotic, mechanical.