Tim Drake.
Red Robin, former Robin.
High School student.
Adoptive son of Bruce Wayne.

Just staying with the basics.


Role play account for the BatFam tumblr.



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Red Robin

Pursuit

It was the words that sounded through his ears, bringing his eyes to widen and his hands to freeze on the keyboard.

“…a casualty has been reported…”

Nausea settled heavily, burning in his stomach as his hand met his forehead, lingering there before it dragged down his face to hover over his mouth, thumb pressing into his jaw. He took in a deep, steady breath, eyes fluttering shut as he stilled for a moment. Rather, he tried to sit still. His skin was suddenly crawling with disgust — all at himself. Sitting at his computer, he was hardly taking in the rest of the information that was being relayed on the monitor. Lynx had been reported as being sighted on the scene, just like she had been with the other attacks in the area. There was always a source with footage, pictures, or eye-witness accounts. She’d been busy making a mess.. and he’d been careless and that was his fault. He’d allowed himself to get distracted, out of touch, out of tune with what was going on. He’d even been warned when he’d spoken with Barbara briefly. She’d told him Lynx was causing trouble in town. He’d done research on it himself and saw it happening. Why had he waited around for something like this to happen? He knew better.

Now someone was dead, and that blood was on his hands.

Screwing his eyes shut even tighter, he pushed up from his place at his computer and allowed his hand to drop back to his side. He wasn’t wasting any more time. He knew the general vicinity that the activity had been for the duration of Lynx’s troubling spree. He had all the information he needed, so now he just needed to act on it and find her. It would take enough time to do that as it was, for he had quite the area to work off of. Even so, Lynx was making enough of a ruckus that maybe she’d end up leading him right to her, if he didn’t happen upon her otherwise before that.

Tim had returned to his home, outside of the manor, after things had gotten a bit… tense with himself and Conner. He’d resolved that he’d needed to actually get work done. Being in his own space was the best way to make sure he did just that. It seemed that even with that newly rediscovered resolve, he hadn’t been able to work fast enough to recover lost ground. He had spent enough time at the manor. He’d worried with the others for Dick’s health and safety, but he seemed to be improving, and he was safe as long as he was at the manor. So that was something that could be dismissed from his mind. Then he had allowed himself to get so immersed in everything that was going on between himself and Conner..

What he had done was that he had allowed himself to be a little too normal while everyone else was working so hard. He was focusing on his own personal affairs — and even those were a wreck — while he holed himself up in his room. He’d made no progress with.. anything, really. A part of him still screamed to go back on his own, completely, like he had been before, but he didn’t think it was a good voice to listen to. It wasn’t reliable. Thoughts about the incidents in Germany, and the time of his experience with amnesia.. They still haunted him too. Not a word of it was shared with a single soul, but he had never planned to. He still didn’t. Everyone had enough on their plates. He had no excuse to be doing any less than they were.

Retrieving his uniform, he quickly dressed, quietly berating himself the whole time. He felt lazy, selfish, foolish, irresponsible.

‘What possessed me to trust her? I let her go, I let her out, because I believed what she said with such little evidence. I thought what Cass had told me was enough to backup what she said. What could’ve made me think, even for a second, that the risk was worth it?’

He should have known better. He had been through enough situations to know that it would be a bad bet. So why had he acted in the exact opposite way? He had been arrogant, stupid.

Even with the anger he had at himself, there was one question that continued to cross his mind again and again, and it wasn’t just directed at himself anymore — ‘What were you thinking?’  There was only the sound of his preparation that echoed in the space, moving to grab his bike so he could begin his search.