Even as that remark was made, the robber on the ground made a sudden lunge for the handcannon strapped to Oracle's waist. She twisted sharply to avoid it, bringing her elbow around in the same movement to slam it down hard on the man's head. He was lucky, really; Oracle's body seemed to have lost much of its density and strength during the transport here, so that blow would only leave a headache rather than a concussion.

"I see," she remarked as he fell a second time, spitting out curses that she didn't recognize. She quickly planted her boot on his wrist to pin him there, and then indicated his hand with a nod. "That should be easy enough to fix. I imagine it's hard to be grabby without hands -- how sharp is that weapon of yours?"

Was she joking or not? As unreadable as her expression was, it was difficult to say.