Secret Identities Come With Secret Lairs? [Open!]

[battorch]

For a while following his release from the pods, Tim had spent most of his time in the library (albeit as Red Robin), researching and reading. He poured over everything on the ship and the events surrounding it that he could find, making sure he had all of the information he could get, for now. He'd investigate more, soon...

But for the time being, he had finally torn himself away from the library. He had a place to stay, yes, but he wanted somewhere more private, that he could work out of when neccessary. A base of operations-- somewhere in the city. It hadn't been totally explored yet, after all. Plus, he needed to establish himself a bit more outside of Red Robin, especially if he wanted to keep up the distinction for a while (as futile as he'd heard it was).

So it was as Tim Drake that he was exploring the city at the time, feeling somewhat exposed without his cape or cowl, but his posture was confident, if slouched somewhat. Right then, he was a businessman and a teenager, nothing more.

Comments

[battorch]

So whatever it was Zetta was referring to as 'status screens', it must have been something that let him read into how strong someone was, or something similar. A meta, maybe? Tim eyed him suspiciously-- but he couldn't help but smile a bit, mischievously. "Polo," he replied, in jest, "And tennis."

And don't worry Zetta. Because you're on his.

[badassfreakingoverlord]

Good. Uh, tell Zetta what the list was actually for. He doesn't know. He just thought that to himself because it sounded fairly impressive.

"Polo?" Zetta said, looking back at the status screen. "As what position? The horse?"

[battorch]

Tim's decided that Zetta needs to be on his proverbial hit list-- nothing he's acting on yet, on the ship, but people to watch for, and contingency plans...

His smile widened a little more at Zetta's questioning. "I never said I was good at it. Makes it tougher."

[badassfreakingoverlord]

Zetta would be thrilled if he knew. At last someone was taking him as a proper threat! A sensible person at last!

"Hmph. I never understood human sports anyway! All that obsession with balls, what's with that?"

[battorch]

Tim would rather have a solid plan for anyone he can't trust on the ship. He may be confident in his own abilities-- but he also knows better than to underestimate people.

"A lot of them use them, you're right," he chuckled lightly. "I guess it's something easy to hit around?"

[badassfreakingoverlord]

"Except what about that sport with the ball made out of a pig? That one isn't even round," Zetta said. "It doesn't make any sense!"

[battorch]

Tim grimaced again, but then he laughed more openly. "Okay, fair enough. Some of them are pretty strange. Maybe we're just looking for an excuse to run around and hit things, and make it a competition."

[badassfreakingoverlord]

"Why not just run around and hit things and keep score of who gets hit or who gets knocked out first or something, then?" That was a sensible way to do things. Demons had SUCH a better grip on life in general than humans, Zetta was certain of this.

[battorch]

"Slightly less violent," Tim offered, with a shrug. "People don't tend to take physical injury that well. At least with the sports as is it's usually an accident."

[badassfreakingoverlord]

"So the idea is to come as close as possible to seriously injuring someone without actually doing it, huh?" The book considered that, a slow grin spreading on its face. "That's actually pretty damn clever."

[battorch]

"Something like that," he said, and grimaced. He wasn't going to make this much clearer, was he? "No one actually gets hurt, but you keep the adrenaline up and all that." Not that he was one to talk about that sort of thing. Oh no.