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

konfounded:

Alright, so maybe Timmy’s stalker-esque tendancies were starting to rub off on him, ‘cause Kon had absolutely no problem admitting to the fact that he had been shamelessly following Tim’s winding path over rooftops and up the sides of Gotham’s skyscrapers. Kon kept himself as a pinprick in the sky, high enough to be mistaken as a wayward bat (heh) if Tim happened to look up. Conner wasn’t… afraid of facing Tim, he was just giving the guy healthy distance. Kon was working out what time was appropriate for his good-natured pesterings and what time was good to let Tim process and absorb things on his own. Right now, Kon had a gut feeling it was the latter. So he stayed airbourne, using his heightened senses to track his bird from a distance.

He was hovering over the bright lights and steepled rooftops of Chinatown when his pocket buzzed.

A faint frown creeping between his brows, Kon fished his communicator out of his pocket. Superboy’s Young Justice days were behind him, but he was still on the roster of the Titans. But as an alternate. Big Blue still wanted Kon to take it easy, a suggestion the younger Kryptonian bristled at, but ultimately accepted.

At least Kon still got to see some action. But now of all times…?

“Hello,” Conner flicked up the comm’s cover. A burst of high speed chatter exploded from the phone. Kon stuffed his finger into his opposite ear to tune out the urban noises beneath him, his voice rumbling somewhere between irritated and bemused as he attempted to subdue the runaway train that was Bart’s explanation for calling him. Bart had borrowed one of Cyborg’s stereo systems, intent on taking it apart and putting it back together again. Now, everything had gone according to plan, except for when Cyborg walked in on Bart in the middle of the living room with his tech in pieces scattered across the floor.

Conner was touched that Bart used his graciously given phone call to call him. Kon wasn’t so pleased that Bart expected him to talk Cyborg down from dropping Bart off the side of Titans Tower. Kon wasn’t exactly a diplomat. Bart was only a tiny bit resentful when Kon saved his ass, for the cost of month’s worth of dish and toilet duty, but at least the speedster hadn’t been pitched head first into the bay.

Clicking his communicator shut, Kon refocused, casting out his senses for Tim’s heartbeat or voice. Within seconds, Kon found them. It was a little unsettling how in-tune he was to Tim. But Kon could ponder what that meant later.

“But I think this could be fun. Easy, even. Or maybe you want to prove me wrong.”

Sounded like Timmy was in a bit of trouble. Kon rolled his neck, hearing the bones snap and pop. Then he dived down into the heart of Chinatown, causing paper lanterns and loose flyers to scatter and flutter by the force of his flight.

“Y’need to work on you banter, ‘Boo,” Kon declared loudly, cutting into the fight with a speed and ferocity that definitely wasn’t human. The first thug’s head snapped back as Kon’s flight ended with a merciless uppercut. Kon shook out his fist, whistling lowly. “Whew, think I’s heard bone crack on that one,” the clone grinned fearlessly.

With the new threat of a meta, the two remaining thugs were sufficiently distracted. Which would let Tim- …Kon’s eyes narrowed as he planted his feet firmly between the thugs and Tim. And Lynx.

That stupid merc had shown up a few days prior tops, Conner was sure of it. But Kon had told her to buzz off and quit trying to seduce Tim. Not because Kon was jealous. Kon had plenty of girls and stuff flirting with him on a daily basis. He totally wasn’t jealous. He just didn’t like Lynx. Or the fact that Red Robin had deigned it appropriate to risk his neck to save her.

Kon’s hands curled into tight fists, adrenaline pumping through his veins. Punch first, ask questions later.

After he had spoken, the first thug was ready to rush him. His body had tensed and he had crouched in the slightest to push off and run towards him, but the velocity he’d gained worked against him as Tim would soon see. He, himself, had bent his knees in the slightest, foot sliding back as he positioned his staff in front of him, gloved hands grasping the metal tightly. Eyes that had narrowed behind the cowl widened again as a rush of wind that brushed against him accompanied a certain meta. The meta had beaten that rush of wind, and by the time it was something that Tim felt, he’d already seen his opponent be on the receiving end of an uppercut that sent him to the ground with a decent injury. If the collision to the ground wasn’t enough to keep him down, the pain would.

Without responding to the joke made on his banter, he was left wondering just what had gotten Kon’s attention, and how he’d learned about the fight, and where he was. Not to mention, he wondered why he intervened. Right now wasn’t the moment for questions. So, he decided to take advantage of the moment that Kon’s distraction had provided. Stowing his staff quickly, he turned to kneel at Lynx’s side, trying to get a quick assessment of her injuries. There was blood that was making itself known in a sticky patch at her side, various cuts and bruises were making themselves known upon her exposed skin. He didn’t plan on invading her privacy, especially there. He had just worried about broken bones, but those seemed to be in order at least.

Carefully picking her up, he used his grappling hook to pull them back up to the rooftop, out of the way of the fight. Laying her back down, he knew he had to think fast, knew they had to get out of the eye of danger and get her somewhere safe, and start treating her wounds. It seemed like her injuries, coupled with blood loss, were things that couldn’t be ignored for long.

(Source: robinofthered)