"C'mon," Dick *huffed* with frustration, side stepping in front of the perpetrator, his hands raised in a placating manner, "stop running."

Rain pattered in the hollow parking garage, a few vehicles spotting the expanse of neutral concrete. Nightwing had you cornered after a strenuous chase that seemed to last forever, and now had you against a graffitied pillar. Dick's gaze tracked the human attentively, following each reaction elicited as he neared. This was his informant, and right now, he was owed a favor. Blüdhaven's bustling nightlife filled the drizzly distance, but the eerie parking garage somehow clouded the noise.

"Didn't I get you out of that jam last month? You owe me," Grayson's tone took a firm turn, and the blue domino mask furrowed; asserting the severity of the conversation. He caught the cornered informant's gaze, assessing the expression, his stance shifting to relieve some tension. After a night of chasing, Dick hoped you were finally tired out.

"Need something tangible over a mob case. Can you help?" He cocked his head to the side, folding his rain slicked arms.