Who: Dean and Robin What: getting back in the game. When: Random Wednesday night. LATE. after Oracle's arrival. Where: in the city Warnings: eh..tba.
It was nearing three am. Tim couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't cut out to be a normal kid. He'd given it a fair try. A week was fair right? Hung around the other kids, listened to them chat about sitcoms and gossiping about whatever the latest buzz was. Celebrity or otherwise. It just wasn't him. Tim loved being Robin. He loved everything about the job, and the only thing that being a normal kid had done for a week was shown him that he was Robin. He was also Tim Wayne. Balance had always been an issue for him. Dual identities were a bitch like that, but it came with the territory and Tim accepted it when he accepted the mantle. So he'd work it out. Tim by day Robin by night. Just like Gotham. But maybe this time with Oracle about he wouldn't have to mix the two and let Tim get lost in the shuffle. Ever since he shot Green Arrow with his own arrows, his thoughts had been scrambled. But now just like the night sky they were clearing. The fog was passing.
Tim was given the title because he could handle it. No way was he gonna let this city beat him down and prove him, and Bruce wrong. He had to get his head back in the game. So he perched on rooftops and watched the streets for activity. It was a pretty slow night. That was good and bad. There wasn't even a bank robbery. There were always bank robberies. Tim sat in the shadows with his comm link being his only give away emitting a dull red glow by his ear. He hadn't worn it since he arrived, but he figured Oracle being there now would want him on it 24/7 and yell if it weren't. So he was cutting this one off at the bud. Robin was about to turn in and stood up. All I want for Christmas is a major crime. he thought in amusement as he took one last look at the quiet streets and storefronts. His cape fluttering against booted feet as he moved to jump off the edge of the building, graplling hook in hand. He paused. That's when he saw movement on a side walk infront of a closed storefront.
For a while he just watched and took a step back further into the shadows and out of sight. Narrowed eyes trying to count just how many shapes were there. The store they were scouting was a jewelry store. Tim rolled his eyes, of coarse it went unnoticed behind his domino mask. But it was there. Always jewelery stores. How cliche. not exactly a major crime, but I'll take it. Tim thought to himself as he counted four objects moving in. Two carrying automatic weapons. Guys with the guns first, worry about the weaponless later. Tim unhooked a batterang and a dangerously sharp silver R and threw both at once. Each one nailing their target and surprising the buglers. Their weapons were forced from their hands, and their hands were cut. The batterang and R's landed a few feet from the startled and angry group on the sidewalk. Robin jumped down silently through the shadows. His feet aimed at the two robbers necks who were nursing their hands. They fell with grunts of pain, and Tim smirked at the others who were reaching for the weapons. "Hey now, play nice." They glared heatedly. Both jumped on him and Robin let them. They didn't know the first thing about a dog pile.
They might get a few good hits, but that'd be about it. They'd mostly hit eachother or the ground. Tim let them at it for a second, before rolling out from under and pulling out two shiny round silver objects no larger than a marble of knock out gas. One rolled toward the pile of fists still flailing at thin air, and the other toward the two nursing their hands. The gas spilled out silently all four unaware even as Tim pulled out his own gas mask and started wrapping their hands up in twine. "Don't go anywhere, cops are on their way." He stood up and dusted off black gloved hands, picking up the now empty marble sized containers and slipping them into his utility belt he looked around to make sure no one had gotten caught up in the little scene he just caused.