Holy Suicidal Sidekicks, Batman!

Summary:
October 3, 2014: In a strange case of mistaken identity, Darcy and Robin meet one another in a myriad of silliness.

Park Row — Gotham City

Park Row borders Amusement Mile to the north east and Bowery to the South.
Two notorious locations within the city that hold almost as much history and
unsavory ill repute as Park Row itself; Crime Alley.

Originally it was an upscale street for the wealthy that had wonderful
attractions and promise; now it's fallen in to decay and poverty a spreading
darkness that began on one lonely road now engulfs an entire district. A slum
that the wise avoid, it's one of the worst locations in all of Gotham right
next to Battergate, the Hill and the Narrows. In some ways worse than all of
them. It's an alleyway near a theatre here that Thomas and Martha Wayne were
killed many years ago.

Leslie Thompkins Free Clinic is also located here and caters to those in
need, she'll take in anyone, even criminals.


Characters

NPCs

  • None

Mood Music:
[*<http://insert.video.or.music.link.here>]


Some days, having something like a steady paycheck with reliable days off is AWESOME! Like today.

Tonight?

Whatever.

Dressed for trouble, Darcy Lewis had left the game after the Gotham Girls anhiliated the Liberty Belles. Darcy dressed the part of a former skater from New Jersery, where she had gone to school at Culver. A Hellrazor, Darcy's eyes were heavily lined and her lips were bright red. Her hair was up in double tails, not unlike a notorious clown princess of crime. And the color scheme of the derby club Darcy was in? Red, white, and black. The once blocker wears knee high Doc Martins with a red and black plaid school-girl style skirt, a red button-up blouse and a black vest from Hot Topic. She's not carrying a large purse because her valuables are tucked into her valuables. Not that she hides those, but whatever.

The problem with not being from Gotham or having visited often was that the city layout seemed utterly retarded!

Who puts a building like that?! Where are the freaking street signs? Or the public transit for that matter!?

Annoyed but undetered, Darcy walks down the sidewalk and ponders the tazer in the small child's purse that rests against a hip, the thin strap crossing over her chest and back. This is the kind of place she might need her Little Zapper.

Night-time patrol always means rooftops; lost of rooftops. With the world so darkened below, moonlight provides all source of reflection, light and general goodness. Fortunately it's a full moon tonight, meaning there is reflective light to spare—if you're on the rooftops.

Robin's nest tonight is atop a familiar apartment building outside the free clinic. He probably shouldn't monitor the world from Dr. Thompkins' clinic, someday he may need those services and a villain could lay in wait for him, yet the temptation to even catch a glimpse of some of the more nefarious folks is enough to have him watch. Tim knows he probably would do nothing if he caught sight of them, even bad guys need doctors, yet his curiosity is just enough to have him linger… that is, until he sees a familiar figure not walking to the clinic.

His jaw tightens, and he crouches to lean forward and provide him an even better vantage point. One of his gloved hands rubs his chin, toying with that little bit of stubble before he reaches to his utility belt and tugs at his grapple gun. The gun is shot towards the building across and Robin Tarzan-swings, rather silently to aid himself in getting down from his perch.

Darcy hadn't done her research before the game, however, and while she had wanted the Belles to win, the fact that the Hellrazors and the Gotham Girls wore the same colors wasn't apparent until AFTER she was in highly settled on the floor between a handful of Gotham native lesbians, there to see girls in spanxie-shorts and too short skirts kicking the shit out of each other while rolling around at high speeds on old fashioned roller skates. Darcy's only complaint was the drunken handsiness at the end of the game.

The blonde was a bit man-handed and her brunette GF was less than happy when Darcy ducked out of the offered post-game celebrations.

The downside of said reliable job was the very predictable hours, like a Monday morning clock-in.

None of which helps her one bit in realizing there's a wild ROBIN swinging in her general direction. Her tazer is likely to be SUPER INEFFECTIVE since she won't reach it in time. Unless he gives her ample warn- Is that a free-clinic?

Head tilting, Darcy peers at the light spilling from the doorway, backlit. A hand comes up to her hip, near that little purse.

Whether or not Darcy has her taser at the ready, Robin reaches out to grasp the woman. He doesn't immediately knock her down, but his senses are undeniably heightened at the potential of Mister J around. Wherever Harley goes, the Joker can't be far behind.

As he gets closer, however, his expression changes from determination to confusion. "Wha — " the word is ate by the air as Tim tries to place this particular woman. She certainly looked like Harley Quinn from a distance, but up closer? He's not wholly convinced.

"What the holy fuck!" Darcy blurts out as she's swept off her feet by Boy Wonder #3. Any thoughts of tazing the guy vanish as quickly as the ground below her receeds as she's hauled away from where she was standing by Robin's pendulum up-swing.

Darcy does what any regular gal would do in this sitation.

The Sassmaster wraps her arms about whatever part of the Timmy she can (maybe a leg too, but no one needs to judge or mention the fact that Darce does NOT wear panty hose). Darcy clings like a little spider monkey!

Darcy does what no regular gal would do in this situation.

"Please don't be a psycho supervillian hoping to use me as bait to summon your insanely over-powered and incredibly more dreamy looking archnemsis superhero. I've got work on Monday, and it'd be really hard to explain the rope-burn of being dangled from a construction crane for a few hours while said Superhero realizes I'm in trouble and comes over to save me; because that totally happens in my life.

"Okay, not really. But I'd still appreciate you not being a psycho supervillian." Darcy takes a breath, looking down.

"And maybe putting me down… Gently!… on my feet!?" A few too many Bond movies there, Sassy Pants.

While Darcy is confused, Robin is downright bewildered. But he doesn't let go. Training keeps him on his game, even amid being talked at by a chatterbox like Darcy Lewis. The button on the grapple gun is pressed and the pair are reeled upwards towards one of Gotham's highest summits. Once reeled in, one arm still around Not-Harley-Quinn, he climbs using his feet and the leverage provided by the grapple itself. This makes him seem like a strange kind of mountain climber—at least in times of his silhouette. A mountain climber moving with a body in tow.

At least it's a live body.

Reaching the top of the building, he puts Darcy on her feet (whether she lets go is anybody's guess).

"Look lady," lady, always lady, "I'm not — I didn't — you look — " none of the thoughts are finished, instead they come out in a long string of syllables to defend Robin's actions. "You can't just be out there walking alone at night! Gotham isn't that place!" he motions down toads the street. "You didn't even see me coming before — " there's another pause. "You can't dress like that here either!"

He clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair. "I'll just call you a cab…"

Sweeping out of the sky, walking up a wall… whoa, this guy's cool! Not as cool as that party boy that can perfectly ice her swill at a college frat house, but that's being literal. This guy? Not literally temperature cool. Cool in the oth- you know what? We'er going to shift gears now.

"You're not what? The hero or the villian or a psycho? Because if you're saying I can't just walk around alone at night — which, by the way is weird since I'm not six and that sounds suspiciously chivalrous of you and I have it on good authority that it's fairly dead now-a-days… You know, I forgot where I was going with that. I'm going to start over.

"If I can't dress like this, then you can't dress like that. A mask AND a cape? Really? Where's the top hat, Tuxedo Mask? Gonna throw a rose at my feet and pose for some castanets?"

Yeah! That's exactly what Darcy was going to say! Totally. While she lets go enough to plant one hand on her hip and stand on her own two feet. After all, SHIELD training says: potential super, gather intel! Like a phone number. This dude might be hella cute under that mask.

…he also might be very Opera Ghost.

You HAD to ruin a good daydream, didn't you, stupid brain?

It's what I'm good at!

Screw you. Still gonna get his number.

Alright. But don't cry to me if he's horribly scarred.

And Darcy has officially rendered the Boy Wonder speechless. "I..er.. what?" he teaks a single step back at being called Tuxedo Mask, and Robin can't help but smirk at the whole ordeal. "Look. Lady. I'm Robin." Pause. "As in Batman and…?" he arches a wry eyebrow. "Maybe you've heard of him? He's like the caped crusader, the lead of the vigilantes, the — " he scratches the back of his head as he takes a single step back.

He shakes his head, "I take it you're not from around here?" Behind the mask, his eyebrows draw together, causing his forehead to crease. "Look. Gotham isn't safe. A person shouldn't just be out," he motions down towards the alley, "walking in any old unlit street! This place is like high crime. Low penalty."

It's at that moment that Tim realizes he still hasn't said what needs to be said, "I'm not a villain! Or a psycho!" but he also doesn't label himself the hero. That would be pushing it; at least in his own mind.

As far as dressing one way or another, Robin takes a single step back, "The mask is — " he pinches the bridge of his nose and his chin drops to his chest. "Look. The cape is functional. The mask is protective." Pause. "But YOU look like one of our notorious villains. And you can't just dress like her — it'll get you into trouble with more than … Tuxedo Mask."

Darcy's eyebrow shoot high up her forehead as Robin steps back and introduces himself. She doesn't fight his 'leave-taking' since she's not experienced with the Bat Clan's habit of vanishing mid-sentence. Not can she stop the snort of a laugh at the names. Seriously?

"Like… the bird? Or the restaurant. Please don't tell me you're leaving out the word 'Red'. Oh god, that commercial's stuck in my head now!" Whatever other thing Robin had added about who Batman is Darcy's mind glosses over. Yeah yeah. Caped whatever. Not-so-bright Knightlight.

"Hell no, I'm not from around here. Came may to watch the Belles/Girls game. Great team, by the way. Gotham bitches are tough as shit!" Somehow, Darcy makes that sound appreciative, her head nodding in a knowing sort of way.

"Which I guess makes since is this city's high crime like you said," comes the slightly ponderous tone from the Darce. She takes a heartbeat to process that before rolling it off with a shoulder shrug.

"Uh-huh. Functional. You keep telling yourself that. I hear Dolce's trying to make capes, ponchos, and wraps come back," Darcy sasses before giving in (finally?) to the urge to out right laugh at Robin's plight… flight… night… sight. Sight! The sight of that mask and cape and the mental addition of the top hat. Darcy's even in a school girl get up!

"Well, great protection there, Robby. It's very… mysterious!" She pauses too, head tilting, brow arching.

"Really? …you scooped me up because I look like one of your villians? Wait. Notorious? Wow. A notorious eveil school girl. …Hawt. I might like this town." A grin as she thinks that through turns back into a peel of chuckles as Tim says she'll be in trouble.

"You mean your Bat-buddy might show up to stop me from being all notoriously evil and school girlie? God, I'd pay to see that! This is like Sailor Moon on acid. Bring it. I've a tazer." And she's not afraid to use it.

And she's probably had a little bit to drink at the bout too. My god, Darcy's brain is NONSEQUITOR this morning!

Blink. Blink. Blink.

Is this happening?

Tim wonders if he did run into Harley Quinn and is now completely knocked out on the pavement somewhere.

He looks down towards the alley and shakes his head. Surely he wouldn't see himself creamed on the pavement even if it did happen, would he? He turns back to watch Darcy again.

"Look. She's seriously psycho. As is her boss. You'd be smart not to look like that this time of night. And she's got enemies in the underground too. If one of them found you, well," he clucks his tongue disapprovingly. "And of course the bird. Robin. Batman. Look, I didn't come up with it, but it works. And the mask is to protect — you know what? I don't have to explain myself to you. I don't even know who you are." Pause. "And Gotham baddies won't be afraid of your taser. Believe me."

But her skepticism over the functionality of his cape causes his lips hitch up on one side as just a hint of mischief colours his expression.

Batman would never approve.

But then, as Dick reminded him, Tim is now an adult. Approval isn't exactly necessary.

He leaps towards Darcy, tugging her into his arms and then, before she can squirm too much, makes a similar leap off the building. At first the descent is quick — the free fall that probably warrants screaming and desperation, but then he tilts, and the cape catches the air like a parasail with a very audible wind-catch-fabric puff.

"See? Functional," he murmurs with a lopsided grin.

"And I don't have to explain myself to you, since I don't know who YOU are. Wow, we sound like high schoolers. Will you go to the prom with meeEEEEEEEEE??!!!" Darcy's sass, interrupted by BirdBoy leaping at her, scooping her up again, and jumping off the roof.

Holy Suicidal Sidekicks!

Darcy wraps her arms and legs and chin around whatever part of Robin she can manage. Her eyes go wide and she looks down… to see the ground not rushing up for her to go ker-splat upon.

A long long moment passes as Darcy is silent, clingy but silent, watching Gotham from where she parasails on Robin-Air.

"It's falling; with style."

It's also the only intelligent thought Darcy has. Shut up! It's totally intelligent!

"Pretty much," Tim agrees while his eyes continue to watch the world below. "Look. The cape is functional and the mask to protect me. Gotham isn't safe. It's why you shouldn't dress like Harley Quinn. And why I need to wear a mask to put women into cabs." Good old lecturing Robin. He's feeling like himself again.

The pair parasail in the air for awhile until Robin can, rather successfully, negotiate his way to one of the lower rooftops, using his cape as his glider. While the descent is slow, the landing is a little rocky. In fact, Robin has never landed like this with another person, and he's at a bit of a loss. And so he adjusts Darcy in his grasp, turning her so her feet will be able to touch before his own. Convinced she's low enough so as not to get hurt, he tries to drop her.

But she's clinging on too tight. This results in a tumbled mess of Darce-Tim as they lose all momentum along the rooftop.

He now lays creamed against the concrete expanse of the roof and groans, "Still wanna go to the prom? I'm sure I could make sure you get some more bruises if you want to wear purple. It'll be matchy-matchy."

Okay. okay. okay. Point: Robin. Not that this stops Darcy. She turns her head to watching the skyline, actually sighing in enjoyment. This one? Not afraid of heights.

"That's almost kinda romantic, in a weird B-reel stalker movie kind of way. But my life's weird, so I'm going to go with it and just say, 'aaaaaaaaaaawwwwww. Thanks, Robin!'"

My inner voice actor conjured up the sound of animated Starfire from Teen Titains, pre-Titans GO!

As Robin tries to adjust her, Darcy clings a bit more and down they go in a tumble. She's experienced in taking falls… while tangled up with another person, and she rolls with Tim until she ends up partially sprawled on top. She laughs, dropping her forhead to his chest.

"If the night ends with a ride half as wild as this, hell yes. Bruises are sexy as hell. You gonna dress to match?"

Robin blushes with a girl on top of him. His cheeks don't just redden, his entire face begins to turn that shade of tomato red. And he can feel it. He squirms a little and attempts to lever himself out from underneath Darcy. He manages another crooked grin and slides away a few feet. The notions of romance and stalking are just unsettling enough.

"I'm not sure purple is my colour," he counters with a cough and a rather put-on boyish grin. He walks towards the edge of the building and looks down. "Weirdly quiet night means I'm not making my point with you, am I? I swear it's a dangerous place." Not that he's winning any points on this one.

When he turns back toward her, the blush has faded from his cheeks and behind his mask. "So. You have a problem with the name Red Robin?" his eyebrows arch upwards.

As Robin squirms, Darcy looks up. She smiles broadly at the blush. It's like a game. How many people can she get to blush without working at it? Point tally's at four this month. Fred, from accounting, has stopped being countable since he blushes when she walks into the room. She pushes herself up, letting Robin get himself to his feet while she brushes dirt from a knee nonchalantly.

"Well, since I have no idea what color your eyes are, I have no idea. But you're right. Purple's a bitch to try to wear. I tried it with lime green once. YUCK!" Darcy prattles a bit, sticking her tongue out in mock gag while she steps toward the edge with Robin to look over his city with him. All that's missing is brooding. Darcy's not a brooder.

"Not even remotely. But it's cute that you're still trying, so I won't hold it against you." Pause. Grin. "Something else, maybe. If you asked nicely."

Her green eyes are bright behind her glasses, which she nudges back up high on her nose with a finger as Robin turns to her and asks about the name.

"OhmyGOD. Really!?" She waits a moment, then quotes the commercial by singing: "Reeeeed Robin. YUMMMM!" And she breaks into giggles. "I just.. I can't!"

"It better not be your taser," Robin states about the something else to hold against him. But then he clues in and Tim can feel even his ears blushing. Is it possible for ears to blush? These are things he will look up on the internet later.

He clears his throat in an effort to be serious. Robin has to be serious. Tim can be totally adorkable, but Robin is supposed to be scary for the criminals. And so he shakes his head, "Not like that. Like. A defender of the weak. Not something tasty or… food-based." His eyebrows draw together again and he fights the grin that wants to take over his countenance.

There's a pause as he looks down at the street again. "They're blue." With another sniff he looks back towards her, "My eyes are blue." There's a pause. "Or violet," he smirks back. "Or brown. Maybe green." He actually chuckles at himself. "Statistically they're brown, you know."

"So. Where you heading, lady? Care to hitch a ride with a bird man?" Yeah, he feels like he's graduated from boy to man — what of it?

OMG!!! RObin is completely adorable when he blushes that hard! Darcy can practically feel the embarassed warmth rolling of fhim.

"I didn't think you wer einto that sort of thing," she prods with a lopsided smirk. Her head tilts, hand on her hip.

"Why can't it be both? Tasty AND a defender of the weak?" She pauses then laughs at herself with a shake of her head. "Sorry. That was out of line. Even fo rme. and I have a pretty thick line."

Smiling, Darcy chuckles as Tim gives every eye color out there, almost. She's pretty sure the fact that he said blue twice means that's the real color. She won't press.

"Mine can be red. Those contacts are bitchin'," she adds as she steps toward Robin, arms up to wrap about his neck.

"Bird man, huh? Planning on carrying me off to roost?"

The blush just won't go away, and with every remark Darcy makes, Robin can feel it become more prevalent on his face. "Uh. I'm… not." It's not a question, but it's not the firm statement that one might expect from The Batman. It's a good think Robin is JUST a sidekick.

"Because I'm not tasty?" he finally asks. "Unless you mean my predecessor. He always had the ladies flocking to him — " it's true, Dick always had a gaggle of girls interested, at least from Tim's perspective. Being the dork doesn't always work for girl-attentions. Even as a sidekick to a hero.

"Not to roost, just to get you home — " there's another scrunch of Tim's face as he processes again. "I. Er… I just want you to get home safely?" He clears his throat and tugs on the sleeves of his costume. This is reaching new levels of awkward.

Laughing, Darcy steps up against Tim since he didn't immediately scoop her up and she didn't want to just be standing there like a moron with her arms held up for a hug. She settles her arms about his shoulders and neck, and her eyes dance over the blush.

"Sounds like we must have a fact-finding mission to assertain the level of tastiness, Red Robin. You're lucky I've been trained as a Secret Shopper. I know exactly how to test for tasty," she adds with a wink as Robin digs himself in further.

"My place sounds great. Lower East Side, New York. And if you're Robin, I'm a little frightened for your predecessor. Don't ruin the mystic for me, though. Thinking of him as Turtledove makes you seem much more manly, little songbird. To my place!" And Darcy lets go with a hand to boldly point… the wrong way!

With the arms around his neck and shoulders Robin actually stiffens. This is not something he's been trained to deal with. His face blanks out, his lips part wordlessly and he quite literally freezes. "Hi." He stares at the woman he'd mistaken for Harley Quinn and becomes STATUE ROBIN. "I. Uh." His head turns to the side, once again looking at the alley. He's supposed to be on patrol.

His hands feel glued to his side, and his face continues to blush. "Er. What?" The thought of being tasty has his eyes widening behind his mask. "I. Uh. All in a day's work, ma'am?" he channels his inner mountie and clears his throat again. "No — I think you'd like him better, he's the ladies' man." Smiiiiile.

And then she's pointing the wrong direction which causes the smile to turn lopsided again. He reaches around the woman's waist and uses the grappling gun to shoot at the building across the way. "My car is this way." Yeah. This hero drives. Imagine.

"You're adorkable, Chicken-Boo," Darcy says as Robin gets ready to Fall them with Style to his car. This makes sense in her brain, because chickens are the most ungainly flyers EVER. They just… flail and fall, with style. She tip toes that inch to plant a kiss on his cheek. Her lip gloss comes off, but not the red.

"Loosen up, Darien. I don't bite unless you say it's okay and I'm careful not to leave anything where it's going to be visible. …unless you're a stripper. I can't help you there. As for Turtledove, ladies' man means he likely won't blush nearly as cutely as you do. Because know you match your name, -red- Robin." Pause. "Oooh. Is your car red too?"

"Chicken-boo?" Robin says skeptically. "Really? Robins are perfectly eleg – “ and then she's kissing him on the cheek. Oh. He's never going to stop blushing ever. The notion of being called Darien is enough to cause the blush to fade some. "Who is Darien?" It sounds just a little too close to Damian. The other Robin.

But they're already on their way, soaring through the air towards the next drop point. Near the car that Tim has had a deep abiding love for since his sixteenth birthday.

In another lifetime, the Robin comics would've been about a boy and his love for his wheels. But alas. Crime-fighting just sells better than love stories.

"Nightwing, you can call him Nightwing," Robin corrects as he's reaching for her arm to help her round the corner of an alley. And no, I don't think he blushes. Ever, really."

"My car isn't not red," he counters as they see the very armoured sports car compete with the red R. "Uh. So. That's it."

"You don't watch Sailor Moon, do you? Darien is Tuxedo Mask's non-mask non-cape name. Real name? Something. Becasue every girl wants to be a princess and I totally ship Darien and Rei. I'm a Leo, too," Darcy chats as the pair sail through the air.

"There's some contention as to whether or not Tuxedo Mask can actually fly or if it's just that anime leap in super slow-mo for the dopey eyed fangirl swoon effect. I used to be in the Fly-Boy camp, but I think I'm switching sides. You're my very own Mamo-chan, and you're going to like it." Period. Not taking arguments.

"Nightwing? Is that even a bird? Wow. You guys need a creative director. I'm calling him Peacock-butt," Darcy retorts as she helps Tim land them down this time, now that she's expecting it. A low whistles emminates from Darcy and she walks up to the car. She reaches out to run appreciative fingertips over the hood, caressing the body of the machine.

"I stand corrected. Your car's not red. It's fuck-me-hard crimson. Goddamn. If you tell me you've got a hemmie in there, I'm so crawling into the back and losing the panties."

Darcy…. lacks hormone to brain to mouth filters.

"I'm a Cancer," Robin says blandly. "At least, that's what my friend told me." Evidently he doesn't put much stock in these things. "And no, I've never watched Sailor Moon. I don't even know what that is," he lies. His eyes narrow at the thought and he can't help but scrunch his face, "Mamo-chan? I don't know what that means either. I swear, lady. It's like you're talking in a different language."

The criticism of Nightwing's name has Tim's eyebrows arching higher on his forehead again. "I… it's like the Dark Kn — you know what? Never mind. I don't think we'll get anywhere talking about this stuff. His name is Nightwing. Please don't call him Peacock-butt… he's a friend of mine and I — "

And then she's touching his car. Tim nods emphatically at the Harley Quinn-dressed woman who seems to be swooning over the Redbird. "This is the Redbird, and she's — " he's rendered speechless and becomes a statue again at the notion of his car's colour. He gapes at the thought. "I was serious about driving you home — the other — isn't what… I'm not…" Oh gosh, he's never going to be a normal human colour again. Tim's chin drops to his chest.

He can fight crooks like the best of them, but when it comes to talking to women, he fails.

"I can't speak to you any more. At least until I've sat you down to watch through to the start of the Star Fighters. Everything to that point is great, but guys that henshin into domintrix girls…? That's a bit much, even for me. I'm SO not into Ramna," Darcy rambles on about Tim's complete lack of understanding of her anime talk. "You'll learn to understand me, Robby. It's okay. I'm patient like that."

Double pig tails bounce at her shoulders as she regards Tim defending his friends. Ah, DORK, ABLE! Bright red lips, looking darker than red in the low light, smile hugely at Robin while she leans on the hood, hands bracing herself up from behind.

"ALright. Alright. I'll call him Nightwind. But he's still going to be Peacock-butt in my head, because that shit's hilarious and you don't control my brain-meat," Darcy says. One hand rubs the hood behind her again. Green eyes, behind black frammed glasses (which could be mistaken for a domnino mask) flick down to the car.

"Ooh… She. I love FMF set ups," Darcy blurts out before she looks over at Robin again, giggling.

"I beat you are." Tsk of tongue! "Not even dinner and a movie first. Well, lucky for you I'm prepared. Chefboyardee and a pirated copy of Labryrnth. I totally screw up the order of things all the time…" And then as Tim's chin drops, Darcy laughs and moves over to put a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey! Robbie-poo. I'm fucking with you. Wouldn't mind fucking you, but really. If you're going to superhero around, you can't let every mouthy filterless whacko get under your skin like this. I mean, what if I'm the psycho supervillian and this is just a plo for something evil and school girlie?"

Yes! That makes sense!

In the distance is Zachary Zatara levitating down near the duo with his magician's cape billowing in the air. Yes, he's in costume even with the cape. When he spotted Robin speaking to a look-alike Harley Quinn, he couldn't help but stop by.

And so he's here! Looking at the blushing Robin amused. "Robin…. your face is as red as your car. Are you flirting with…" He turns to look at the woman. "Harley Quinn! I do not think Batman would approve if you brought her home." He smirks, knowing perfectly well that she probably isn't actually Harley Quinn, and bows towards the woman. "Zachary Zatara, at you service!"

And Robin's brains may implode. "FMF?" he arches an eyebrow. And no, he's not going to say anything about what Darcy calls Nightwing in her head. It's not like he can hear that. Or say anything about it.

"I wasn't… we weren't…" For once Robin really wishes he had a witness of this conversation. His head turns and his eyes scan the alley for some semblance of life. Evidently he's losing this conversation. If a conversation can be lost.

"Wait. What," he's being messed with and he's still five steps behind trying to figure out what henshin, Ramna, or FMF mean. "I'm sort of… wait. Are you a psycho super villain? Because I've seen weirder get-ups." There's a pause and he can feel his muscles getting their movement back. Evidently he's not totally frozen.

"And virtually no one gets under my skin," except mouthy women full of snark. They always seem to get under his skin. But it's not so much the mouthiness as the content of the mouthiness, but he leaves this unsaid. Instead he reaches to his belt and unlocks the car only to lock it again.

"Just to be clear," he points back towards his car. "Redbird is a pan-underwear wearing zone. All people in the car better be wearing their knickers — " and then there is Zachary Zatara. While he'd wanted a witness, he wonders why it didn't come when he was saying something less incriminating.

Darcy laughs at Robin, leaning in to try to kiss his other cheek. Because he's adorable an to even things out. She's leaving lip gloss on him rather than bright red lip prints. She wear long-stay Revlon, baby. And dollar store cherry flavored gloss. Because the gloss looks best when fresh. And it tastes good too!

"Virtually, huh? How's that working out for ya?" Darcy sasses, giving Robin a wink and a pat on the shoulder before busting down into a giggle fit at the panty rules.

"Oh! Yes, sir. Mister Red-Robin Yum Yum, Sir! I will keep my panties on while in your car so you can peel them off later," Darcy replies into Zachary's arrival. She looks up at him, smiles brightly, and sighs with what can only be estatic joy.

"Zack Zack! Baby. You grew up! Got super powers. Daddy Incredible's got to be proud of you. But to be clear, Rob's taking me to /my/ home, not his home. God, I can't imagine what kind of home a Bat and a Bird have together… Or what a grown man's doing with- who know what? I'm not one to judge," Darcy retorts, holding her hands up in the classic don't-shoot-me-I'm-unarmed-copper move.

"~Magical~ super powers." Zachary clarifies with white-gloved hands giving a little razzle-dazzle for effect. He takes a moment to look between Robin and Darcy. He must be missing something, right? "Ah, that makes more sense. I can't image the Bat's home is the most romantic place for a first date."

Then, Zachary looks at Robin with an eyebrow arched. "I think he just requested to take you home in your underwear. You are such a subtle flirter Boy Wonder, aren't you?"

Another flush of Robin's cheeks at the words and kiss at his cheek. His head turns to catch Zack's gaze. He silently pleads for help behind that mask, but it's hard to see thanks to the eye-shield being down. His hands go back to his keys and he unlocks the car. "She was walking alone on the streets of Gotham. Alone. In Gotham. In the dark. Alone." Because the alone part is the most important. "Alone." He says it again just for posterity. "I wouldn't do that. Not even dressed like this. It's not safe." It's why he walks on the rooftops.

He heaves sigh and then he finds himself blushing all over again. "This isn't a date! I — " he's red all over again " — thought she was Harley Quinn so I aimed t — " he waves a hand flippantly. He's objects pretty loudly. "I was just going to take her home because she needs to get home without having her face beaten in by any of the Joker's cronies! I swear! Nothing untoward was going to happen! I was just doing patrols and then — she just needs to get home."

The notion of his home with the Bat has Robin's eyebrows draw together further, "It's not like I'm with Batman. We're just crime-fighting. Together. I'm not. Like honestly not with Batman." This is the second time in a couple of weeks he's had to make this argument.

As far as flirting is concerned: "I don't — I haven't… I'm not flirting! I'm just… like this?"

"Ooh! So very David Copperfield," Darcy comments to Zach, grin never fading. "Yeah. My place is best. Robby completely swept me off my feet with his knight in not-at-all-shining armor chivalry. It's not dead, dammit!" is after Robin tries to iterate the fact that she was roaming Gotham streets alone at night.

"He's cute enough that I think I'm willing to forgive the fact that he only picked me up because he thought I was a clown-girl. I mean, do I LOOK like a clown-girl? This is total school-girl.. wait. Harlequin is that notoriously evil school girl. Okay, I'm not going to bject. Anyway, you are so totally flirting right now, Bird Man." Because he graduated, remember?

Zachary grins at Robin. He most definitely notiiced the plead for help. "So…Not a date. Got it!" He holds his hands up in surrender and then just shrugs his shoulders. "Can you blame me for wondering? First I see you inviting a Harley Quinn look-alike into your car and then you start talking about panty rules. Looks a little suspicious to me…."

"I know, right!? It's not fair to have a car this fucking hot and have a panties-must-stay-on rule," Darcy laments, one hand on hip, other motioning to said car.

"I'm not cute," Robin counters. "You just like the car," and admittedly so does Robin. In fact, he's very much in love with the Redbird. He forces a lopsided smile and then glances between Zach and Darcy. "You thought I was a psycho super villain until you saw the car." Because the Redbird is lovely in every way.

He turns back towards Zachary when Zatara brings up the pant talk, his face scowling with a distinct air of you're not helping, and he sighs again. "I only said… it was because she…" he points pointedly at Darcy "…suggested that the Redbird should be so… defiled." His arms cross over his chest. Indignant Robin is indignant. Especially when he really was trying to be chivalrous.

"You had better not be flirting, Boy Wonder." A voice echoes out of nowhere, and then a floating grin appears in mid-air. "If you know what's good for you."

The grin begins to be filled out by the rest of the body. "Considering that if anyone is going to defile the Redbird, it's going to be… Oh, hello there!" the rest of the Cheshire cat finishes his appearance and gives Darcy a short wave. "Ma'am, are you trying to molesternate my Robin? Because if that's so, I'm going to have to ask you to stop. There's someone who wants him with all his feathers intact."

"And besides, you are totally cute." Vorpal smirks. Embarrassment complete.

"Of course I like the car. Who wouldn't like this car? Lesbians go straight for a shot at this car," Darcy is saying, defending herself as vehemently as Robin had earlier in this very surreal evening.

"I'm totally calling it a date, because so far it's less weird than my last date. Freaky twin-brother sucking… I'm not saying more. Weird date was weird." She turns to Robin and is about to retort furhter when there appears a chershire cat. Darcy stares, openly stares, at Vorpal as he appears, for a very long moment before looking at Zach.

"Sorry. He wins the Cool Entrance Award," she states simply before smiling back at Vorpal.

"OH! He's gay. And your boyfriend? Well. THAT makes sense!" Darcy turns to Robin, smiling sweetly at him. "Sorry if I came on too strong, Fresh-Out-of-the-Closet. I have the worse Gay-dar in history, in that I invariably try to get into gay pants. It's been a little awkward sometimes, but it's okay. I still like you, and I still totally want a ride in your car… And you're still taking me to prom. We'll go three-some. I don't mind playing side-fiddle to two pretty boys… though, the furry would be new."

Zachary blinks at Vorpal before smiling towards Darcy. "I suppose I'll have to use magical fireworks and smoke for my next entrance." There is a pause as he turns his head towards the cheshire cat. "You're goinna have to stand on your head at some point."

He looks between Vorpal and Robin for a long time. "Boyfriend? I didn't know you were…" He supposes it's possible that Robin is gay, but he could have sworn Vorpal was with Gar.

"Man Wonder," Robin corrects as his arms fold over his chest. "The other Robin can be the Boy Wonder." But his cheeks are still red, his ears are still flushed, and his skin is hot to the touch. Yeah, Tim embarrasses easily, it would seem. Criminals he can handle. Crooks he can take down. Training? He's got it in spades. But conversations about his cute-ness, losing panties in his car, or getting kissed (even just on the cheek) leave him an under-experience train-wreck of embarrassment.

His head turns upwards and he watches Vorpal carefully for a few beats, his mind working through something as he watches the purple cat. And then it happens again. "I'm not gay," there's a matter-of-factness to his tone. "I'm not — I don't — I…" his cheeks now are completely red. Every inch of his face is red. He might be red underneath his uniform. "…I…" He rubs his forehead. "Why is this a thing?" he finally asks. "Just because I don't want to — it doesn't mean I'm not attracted to women," he pinches the bridge of his nose. "It would be the same response if you were a bloke," there you go. Robin isn't gay as much as prudish.

The notion of prom has him smirking. "You don't actually want in my pants. It's just the car," he reassures. "I may need to get a new car."

And then there's a pause. "And no one defiles the Redbird. She's too young for that kind of debauchery." If only the Bat-family was around to see Tim's discomfort. Tim is convinced Nightwing and Batman would be so proud.

The cheshire just can't help himself at the lady's assumption. Stepping through one of his Rabbit Holes to appear right next to Tim, he puts an arm around him and gives him a kiss on the cheek. "Robin, you are breaking my heart! I thought we were together, I thought we were going to elope- you were going to take me to Paris and tour the Catacombs with me, maybe settle into a little Grotte Au Chauve-Souris, maybe have little Cheshire Batlings together—"

And he can't keep it up with a straight face anymore. Patting Robin's shoulder, he laughs, "Sorry, ma'am, but Rob's straight as an arrow and Changeling is a wonderful boyfriend to me. Red is nice, but Green is better." He smirks and reaches up with both hands, grabbing his own head and… removing it. There's no blood, no viscera, in fact his neck seems to end at a closed stump with no unsightly blood and bone. He puts his head down and stands on it. "Like this, Zachary?"

It's all his powers of illusions, of course, his head is actually still attached to his neck… but he can't help himself.

It's a busy night in this alley where Redbird was parked. Red Robin (YUMMMMMM!) is standing as red and his name implies next to Darcy, who's dressed in a red and black school girl outfit with heavy black eyeliner and her black thick framed glasses and dark red lips and two pig tails that if you squint just right and are perched boredly on a rooftop high above could sort of resemble a clown-princess of crime, while Zach hovers near by with Vorpal until the violet feline teleports next to Robin's side.

And some how the conversation's boiled down to: "Well, if you get a new car, I'm taking this one. And it's a thing because you thought I'd press my TAZER against you instead of my chest. Which, I might add, you haven't seemed to look at once…" And Darcy stops talking as Vorpal teases Robin further. Laughing brightly, the Darce drops an arm over Robin's shoulder.

"Oh good. Red's my favorite color. I'm totaly keeping YumYum now."

Zachary arches a brow at Vorpal. "Yes, just like that! Wow, you really are a Cheshire Cat." As he hears the other Robin emerge suddenly, he smirks. "Well this just got even more interesting." He lifts his wrist to look at a watch. "Sadly, I'm not able to stick around." Suddenly a swirl of smoke surrounds him and he's gone…like his normal exit.

When Vorpal kisses him on the cheek, Tim-Robin twitches underneath his otherwise statued exterior. "Uh…" if his brain was going to implode before, now it's downright stressed underneath all of this attention, contact, and general mayhem of craziness. But then Vorpal says he's straight as an arrow, causing him to lift and eyebrow, but he doesn't comment.

And then Darcy is draping on him. And once again Tim does his best statue impersonation. It's not an encouraging gesture, but it's hardly discouraging either. It's professional. Because Robin is a professional, even if he doesn't get paid to do what he does. "I… don't think I'm going to give up the Redbird any time soon. But. Ok?" And then she's keeping him, "I… what." His thoughts may never restart. In fact, Tim may just end up staring into the night forever.

But his red cheeks don't change. He just remains, steady and stable as he stares. And he happens to be staring at the dark from which the other Robin emerges. Yeah, that one. He forces a tight-lipped smile. "Hello Four," there's no retort back just a tight greeting with all the tension statue-Robin can manage. "And who doesn't like the occasional ice cream sundae?"

A nod is given to the retreating Zach, but that's pretty much all of the motion Tim can manage underneath all of this embarrassment and general distress. For now he'll just remain completely still. Maybe the other Robin is like a T-Rex and won't see him if he doesn't move?

"Holy shit!" Darcy starts that the sound of Damian's voice. With a tiny hop, she almost jumps into Tim's arms. At the very least she flings both arms around his neck before turning to look at..

"Mini Robin? Hummer. You're a hummindbird, am I right?" she blurts in order to try (and fail) to hide the fact that she's shifting to put Thing 3 between herself and Thing 4.

"Not me. Ice cream sundae sounds amazing. You fly, I'll buy, Robby." Pause. "But only for you. Everyone else goes dutch, because this is OUR date. The rest of you are shameless party crashers. Shameless!"

"Nono. YumYum has someone who wants him, it's just not me." Vorpal says, and adds, "Don't get me wrong, if I weren't dating Gar, I'd totally go for him, but sorry Rob… our love can never be." He grins and patpats his friend, putting his head back on his neck and dispelling the illusion. And then gives Damian a look with arched eyebrows. "And here comes Robin's evil twin. You can tell because he's a little snarky bag of piss. You'd be able to tell him apart, but he's not old enough yet to grow a goatee, see. It's the reason why Robin has a girlfriend, and Bad Robin has a sneer."

He looks at Robin's raising of eyebrows at his earlier comment.

~Straight as an arrow, huh?~
~Okay, so maybe he's a two-sided arrow?~~Your gaydar sucks.~
~Yeah, I've been told that.~

"What do you want, Boy Blunder?" he asks Damian, all pointy and spiky.

Ibn al Xu'ffasch raises his eyebrow at the going on. First, Zachary Zatarra jets, and now the other Robin is hanging with some floozie. Why his father took this boy on in the first place — the mystery has always escaped him. Then, the cat.

"Bags of piss aren't snarky. Your attempt at ribbing has only shown your general lack of…well everything. Humor, intelligence, et al." Damian shrugs his shoulders, "As to what I'm doing here…you're in my city."

Tim-Robin actually chuckles when Darcy says she likes ice cream sundaes. "Me neither. Ice cream and teddy bears aren't so bad." He winks. Not that anyone can tell. Because. Mask. And with the arms around his neck he becomes more still if at all possible. Because stillness is apt.

There's a flush at the notion of someone wanting him, and Tim offers a one shouldered shrug. "I don't know about that." But he's not going to get into it. Not here. Instead he clucks his tongue, "But there is someone that I spend an inordinate amount of time with." His lips hitch up to one side. He also blushes like this around her all of the time.

Other Robin's thoughts reanimate Tim and his weight shifts. "Gotham isn't someone's town. And, to be honest, with the crime around here," because he's still trying to emphasize to Darcy that walking alone in Gotham is a BAD idea, "we could use more hands. Plus the Titans have done some really great things for this city lately…" he hmms quietly.

"Go back to whatever English-By-Correspondence school you flunked out of and ask them to point you to the 'figures of speech' section. If anything, your lack of intelligence shows in your inability to grasp the colloquialisms." Yup, Vorpal has noticed the accent, and Damian definitely exhibits a certain propensity for non-native syntax.

Now, Vorpal is a nice guy, he would usually never make fun of someone's inability to perfectly grasp English, because the language is tortously difficult for non-native speakers. But this is the other Robin. All bets are off when it comes to Other Robin. He doesn't necessarily put Vorpal in the kindest, most Samaritan of dispositions. He should introduce Damian to Green Arrow. "Your town? I live here, you sad excuse for a Robin. Want me to get out?" Vorpal smiles and narrows his eyes. "Make me."

It should be pointed out that this is a very unique, very important relationship developing here. Heroes go for years without finding their nemeses, without having that loathe-at-first-sight, fighting-in-the-rain, long-battles-by-the-beach thunderbolt. And here it is, blossoming in the flower of youth. Vorpal simply wishes that it had been, you know, a villain instead of one of the Bat's spawnlings.

"Only you'll find it a little difficult. I've got the Titans backing me. Nobody likes you enough to help you if Wonder Girl decides to punt your sorry ass across town, because you're obviously too stupid to realize that making allies is a good idea. Zip it."

Oh yeah. Kitty isn't grinning. It's more like a snarl- and unlike Damian, he's got the teeth for it.

Arms still around Tim, Darcy watches Birdboy and CatManDo start into each other. She leans toward Tim's ear, tip-toeing, to ask: "Got a six inch ruler in that belt of yours, Rob? These two are gonna need something to measure with and that ought to be more than enough." She straightens, green eyes flicking between the two in an unimpressed fashion. Her head tilts to one side before she slides her arms from Tim's neck and loops one arm through his.

"Come, Tuxedo Mask. This place's got crime AND drama in spades. There's a Cold Stone on the way to my place. You can perch all bird-like outside while I head in and get us a pair of sundaes," she adds, giving Tim's arm a tug away from the llamas in the alley. Plus, that CAR!

"You're a racist and an idiot. Clearly the inferior Robin overvalues the Titans and it's subpar leadership. It is far too easy to get under your skin, Furry." Ibn al Xu'ffasch shrugs his shoulders, "If you'd like to battle, I'm right here. I'm not overly afraid of your hocus pocus. I'm not looking for a fight, but I'll certainly give you one if you wish it." He ignores Robin, which is unfortunately his standard operating procedure 50 percent of the time. Why this guy wants to join the Titans, or why he expects admittance is likely lost on a bystander. "And for the record, the comment referring to bags of piss as snarky is not a colloquialism. For that, you'd need some sort of link based on a thought. You have none. It's just a vapid attempt to make a comeback. You might as well call me a stupid-head."

"It's more a team than a leadership thing — " Tim interjects towards Ibn al Xu'ffasch. "And they do good work." He looks between them. "Guys…" Tim-Robin's tone laces with warning. "We're all on the same side here. There's no reason for us not to be civil," at least at this moment. Because the bat-family is a team. Bruce's bio-son earns a roll of Tim's eyes and a shake of his head. "Batman wouldn't like that. No fighting with potential allies." Even if Bruce doesn't approve of other vigilantes, Tim is pretty sure he wouldn't want them fighting said vigilantes. Pretty sure. If he's wrong he may have to revisit his relationship with the Spoiler.

"Darien, right?" see, Darcy, Tim-Robin does listen! He chuckles at Darcy's comment. "Nothing so untoward…. drive or fly?" he finally asks regarding Cold Stone. "We could do either. Flying will take a lot of work to get to your house. Driving could be way faster, and then we can take the Redbird…"

The Cheshire cat smirks, and is about to say something when—

In the landscape of his mind, he's standing in front of the Cait Sidhe. Vorpal is to his right, and he's just Keith O'Neil.

"Careful the wish you make-" the Cait Sidhe begins.

"Wishes come true. Not free." Vorpal finishes.

Keith looks from one to the other, and grins. "Let's give him what he wants, then."

The exchange takes less than a second in his mind, so there is no perceptible gap in the Cheshire's actions. As his mouth opens, it turns into the grin.

"Welcome to the Titans, Boy Blunder. I hope you enjoy the ride." It might be taken as a capitulation, but it wasn't. He wanted to be in the Titans? He got it. But if he thought he was going to lead them, and much less expect them to follow him blindly? He had another thing coming. The mere mental image of Damian trying to pull his 'charm' on Raven was amusing enough to make him grin. He also knew the other Titans would not respond kindly to the young man's attitude and treatment of others. The Cait Sidhe was right- if he wanted to be in the Titans, he'd have to learn to be a Titan, or leave with his tail between his legs in shame. The little bat would have to learn how to fly with wings he had never exercised before. And the thought tickled him in such a malevolent way, he wished he could take a bubble bath and just enjoy basking in it.

To Tim and Darcy, he grins. "Ice cream? You don't mind if I tag along, do you?"

"Adorkable. The car, of course," Darcy says to Tim, mostly ignoring the others now, as she starts toward the car with Tim in tow. Not commenting about the panties.

"I dunno. You gonna continue to be a little bitch? Cause I don't have a spray bottle, Pussy Cat. Just a tazer," Darcy replies to Vorpal, smiling so sweetly. It's not really that sweetly.

"Excellent," Damian says with a nod. Almost immediately his demeanor completely changes. "I'll discuss the particulars with Robin as far as where to meet and some of the details about membership. I'm not sure whether you have regular meetings — that sort of thing." As far as the ice cream, Ibn al Xu'ffasch could go for—wait, did he just call Tim Robin? That's weird.

Darcy earns a two fingered salute from Tim. "Redbird it is!" his hand reaches to his utility belt and he unlocks the car. He slides to the passenger side door and opens it for Darcy. Yeah, chivalry isn't dead folks. It's just shielded in a layer of kevlar.

But then Vorpal is admitting Damian into the Titans. He arches a wry eyebrow at the cat and then looks back towards Damian skeptically. The expression is telling in and of itself as the boy detective tries to put something together. His jaw tightens and his head cants to the side to watch both at once. "I'm good with company… I only have two seats though — " he points with his thumb towards the car.

Vorpal smirks. Clever little bugger. He gives Damian a calculating gaze, like the one Bobby Fischer probably gave Boris Spassky before the beginning of the match. "You'll get the four one-one on that later. For the moment, I am going to get ice cream."

To Darcy, he smirks. "Ma'am, I'm sure Robin will vouch for my integrity and pleasantry of character. There are certain…" eyebrow raise "Elements that sometimes puts one out of sorts. But as for the limited seating…" the cheshire snaps his fingers and a glowing, purple seat appears on top of the Redbird. "I don't mind getting the wind in my hair," he says with a smirk, as his rather rich mane of red looks like it perpetually sports the 'windblown' look. He leaps onto the roof of the car and settles down. "Ice cream?"

Darcy watches Vorpal poof a lounge chair on the roof, a brow quirking. "I'm almost tempted to take a picture so May doesn't force me into medical for drug testing on Monday," she says then smiles at Vorpal and Damien both. "Sorry boys. Tonight's date night. You two run along and play cat and flying-mouse while us 'adults' try to negotiate the fact that this thing doesn't have a back seat. I'm sure my sofa's just as cozy." Darcy can't help but wink at Robin, looking for that blush again as she slides into the passenger seat.

"Don't make me taze you, Pussy Cat," she tosses at Vorpal off-handedly as she reaches for her seatbelt.

"I was going to offer you a ride in mine," Ibn al Xu'ffasch responds to Vorpal. He reaches to the golden belt he wears over his hips and yanks out a black device. His green gloved hand depresses a button and somewhere down the alley a deep growl from some sort of monster vehicle echoes upward.

A group of lights flare up as the machine rolls down the alleyway. Part tank, part hot rod, the vehicle pulls down the way as Ibn al Xu'ffasch leaps off the edge of the building and down towards the car below.


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