Up and at 'em. [Open]
Okay. Dick sat up, blinking into sunlight he hadn't expected to see. He was behind some kind of industrial warehouse; the place was deserted, except for him.
The good news was that he wasn't dead. In fact, that was more than good news, that was the best freaking news Dick had heard in a long time. When a building comes down on your head in the middle of a chemical warfare attack, standing up in good air is a miracle. So he was alive. "...YES!" Fist-pump into the air. Dick was glad to be alive.
Okay, next. He still had his backpack, which had a number of useful things in it along with his mask and uniform. He was still in jeans and a t-shirt, which were only a little dusty. Some minor cuts and abrasions, but no concussion symptoms. With difficulty, he could stand up with the one crutch that seemed to have survived the trip from Bludhaven to here. (Wherever 'here' was. He would figure that out later.)
Dick hobbled around the edge of the warehouse, looking around for anyone who might be able to tell him where he was. He stopped short and stared at a completely unfamiliar skyline--a skyline where he was somehow able to make out Gotham's Clocktower in the horizon. "What the hell?" Dick said, stunned.
After a moment, he kept hobbling, heading for the Clocktower, still mumbling to himself. "What the hell?"