Dick was watching that one in the back with an extra careful eye. He'd learned long ago that it was often the ones you least expected that could do the most damage. But he also had loud mouths infront of him at least demanding part of his attention, and amazing charm and wit. Who was he to disappoint? That wasn't his M.O. Dick was chatty and knew it. Batman had often told him, Alfred told him, and at one point even Babs had told him. It wasn't news to his ears. Which suddenly felt a little more top heavy, but he brushed it off. It was nothing right?
The Nightwing-o-rang in his hand with a terrible name glistened dangerously in the poorly lit alley. One of them raised his weapon, and that was when Dick took his cue. He launched the fiercely sharp weapon at the thugs wrist. He screamed, bled, and dropped the weapon to the ground. His friend reached for it and Dick smirked. "I really wouldn't do that if I were you." Of course it was an empty threat, he didn't have all the toys Batman had. It would take him a minute to move in closer. But only that. Finally he did, and something brushed his feet. A cape. Dick had a cape that he didn't have two seconds ago. He raised an eyebrow. Of course it wasn't seen thanks to his brand new cowl. But in spirit, it was there.
He held up his armored gloves and looked at them suspiciously. They weren't his. Something was very wrong. They were Batman's. His eyes narrowed. What the hell was going on? He did not place any bat shaped orders. Dick looked up at the thugs infront of him. Could they have done that? No. By their confused looks it was beyond their mental capacity. That meant it was someone else. Dick had to take the thugs out quickly, and he did. One after another until he came to the strangely looking one in the back who'd been acting more suspicious then the rest. "What did you do?" He stated as he grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.