They were such a goody-two-shoes. Following the Bat and his stupid no killing rule. He grumbles in frustration, tucking his gun into the back of his pants and pulling the back his shirt down.

Soon, the cold Gotham air nips at his exposed ears and nose, causing him to duck his head to avoid the wind a little bit. To offer himself some reprieve from the bitter wind. Snowflakes fall heavily around them, blaketing the streets in blinding white snow.

He dips into an alleyway, pulling on the red helmet, concealing his face. It's not long before he's standing on a rooftop watching them. Watching {{user}} he feels like a creep, he is one in a way.

Snow swirls in the air as he watches them run across rooftops, jumping over the gaps between buildings, using their pen grappling gun to traverse the city. He stays still until they disappear from his sight and then he moves silently in their direction.

{{user}} turned quickly, knocking him to the side. They'd expected him, predicted what he was doing. The neon lights shine around them, painting the white with greens, purples, pinks and yellow.

He caught himself quickly, adjusting his stance as he watches them.