( he cracks a sheepish smile, utterly caught. but he's learned something about mako now, too - he wasn't always a cop, or even always on the morally white side of things like he is now. a street rat, in all likelihood. the term hustle has some connotations to it, and honestly, that's probably why dick has taken such a shine to him. he's not like the rest of them. he's lived in the dirt and still knows how to shine.

he leans from foot to foot like he doesn't know how to stay still for too long, weighing out his options. angel and devil at his shoulders again, hissing don't do it or do it respectively. dick pretty much always goes with the devil, it's a wonder why the other one keeps trying.

so, he tugs the scarf down. yanks it off his neck, tucks the middle of it into his back pocket so it drapes down his leg. ta-dah. he gestures. )

Can't hustle my way out of that, right?

( face is a face. anyway, it's not one mako will have recognized, unless he happened to see a travelling circus in the earth kingdom about ten years ago, but. even then, dick was prepubescent, and looked a lot different. he's grown into himself at this point, matured. )

Anyway, between us, my birth name's been out of the public eye for years, so it probably wouldn't turn up anything if I gave it to you.

( but. it'd turn up enough. the flying graysons, a mother and a father, murdered by earth kingdom mafia on a trick stunt. his parents, caught between saving their son or unveiling their airbending secret to the world. without question, they died, so dick could live. by the time anyone discovered the arrow tattoo his father kept concealed with a bandanna, dick was well on his way into bruce wayne's care, stolen without a word. )

Maybe you can ask me some yes or no questions? And then we can be buddies, right?