Tim Drake (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hackitudes) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
gourmetburgers2021-08-08 09:27 am
hackitudes) wrote in gourmetburgers2021-08-08 09:27 am
[timann] grubhub gone WRONG
[ Well, things certainly didn't go as planned. And for a guy like Tim, to whom planning is everything, that's the absolute worst. What is it about him that seems to attract danger, besides being a globetrotting billionaire vigilante detective? How is it that even when coming to Japan through official channels, literally as Tim Drake, that trouble finds him anyway? It's not like one look at him immediately tells a person he's some kind of rough-and-tumble adventurer, ready to throw hands at a moment's notice. The paparazzi has taken great pains to make Tim look like a feeble, caffeine-dependent, sleep-deprived and possibly anemic caricature of himself!
Which only compounds matters, because Tim has to admit to himself: coffee would be good right now. He becomes a bit too fixated on the notion of coffee as he clutches his abdomen, from which he'd been bleeding. Elsewhere, across his arms, chest, and legs, he sustains plenty of cuts and bruises... cuts varying all too concerningly in length and depth, bruises in surface area. The altercation itself wasn't anything surprising in his experience, but he just escaped a greater challenge than anything he'd anticipated from the cult he'd been following here out of Gotham. At least he kept a first aid kit in his utility belt-- before boarding his equivalent of the "Batplane," he really had to stitch up the wound below his ribs, wrap a bandage around it, and yet do it so hastily that he continues to bleed just a little bit if he bends forward too much.
He's in Japan. He probably looks a little more worse for wear than Ann's ever seen him... never mind that he's still in his costume.
Probably gonna be a surprise, then, when he drops out of the sky in costume, gliding down to the edge of Ann's balcony. Far above him, his plane waits - stationary in the air - cloaked by the kind of stealth Wonder Woman would appreciate in her own aircrafts. Hidden, you might say, in plane sight.
Tim looks over his shoulder and up at the sky to confirm to himself that this is indeed the case. The last thing he wants is to attract more unwanted attention. With that reassurance, at least, he steps down from the balcony railing with the intention of knocking on Ann's door. Or, more accurately, the glass sliding door separating her room from the balcony proper.
He winces, however, and clutches his stomach to blunt the sting of his wound. Turns out he can't parkour as liberally as he did before all his injuries, because even his muscles ache and sting from where he's been cut and bruised. Neither were as essential to tend to as the stomach wound: stuff he could wait for Ann's help to deal with... especially without Alfred in town. ]
I promise I'm not a burglar. That's more your department, anyway.
[ He told her he was gonna be out on a mission. What he didn't tell her was how he'd be coming back through the balcony. He's made an effort not to spook or surprise her too often anymore, but now's kind of an emergency. ]
Yeah, look.
Takeout was an ordeal.
[ Sure, Tim. Let's start with that. He's desperate for a way to take the edge off, and Ann's not even at the door yet. ]
...I also promise I'll explain. No leaving you in the dark or whatever.
[ Yet another thing he's working on. Something that clearing his palace helped with, while really only kickstarting his more sustained efforts. ]
Which only compounds matters, because Tim has to admit to himself: coffee would be good right now. He becomes a bit too fixated on the notion of coffee as he clutches his abdomen, from which he'd been bleeding. Elsewhere, across his arms, chest, and legs, he sustains plenty of cuts and bruises... cuts varying all too concerningly in length and depth, bruises in surface area. The altercation itself wasn't anything surprising in his experience, but he just escaped a greater challenge than anything he'd anticipated from the cult he'd been following here out of Gotham. At least he kept a first aid kit in his utility belt-- before boarding his equivalent of the "Batplane," he really had to stitch up the wound below his ribs, wrap a bandage around it, and yet do it so hastily that he continues to bleed just a little bit if he bends forward too much.
He's in Japan. He probably looks a little more worse for wear than Ann's ever seen him... never mind that he's still in his costume.
Probably gonna be a surprise, then, when he drops out of the sky in costume, gliding down to the edge of Ann's balcony. Far above him, his plane waits - stationary in the air - cloaked by the kind of stealth Wonder Woman would appreciate in her own aircrafts. Hidden, you might say, in plane sight.
Tim looks over his shoulder and up at the sky to confirm to himself that this is indeed the case. The last thing he wants is to attract more unwanted attention. With that reassurance, at least, he steps down from the balcony railing with the intention of knocking on Ann's door. Or, more accurately, the glass sliding door separating her room from the balcony proper.
He winces, however, and clutches his stomach to blunt the sting of his wound. Turns out he can't parkour as liberally as he did before all his injuries, because even his muscles ache and sting from where he's been cut and bruised. Neither were as essential to tend to as the stomach wound: stuff he could wait for Ann's help to deal with... especially without Alfred in town. ]
I promise I'm not a burglar. That's more your department, anyway.
[ He told her he was gonna be out on a mission. What he didn't tell her was how he'd be coming back through the balcony. He's made an effort not to spook or surprise her too often anymore, but now's kind of an emergency. ]
Yeah, look.
Takeout was an ordeal.
[ Sure, Tim. Let's start with that. He's desperate for a way to take the edge off, and Ann's not even at the door yet. ]
...I also promise I'll explain. No leaving you in the dark or whatever.
[ Yet another thing he's working on. Something that clearing his palace helped with, while really only kickstarting his more sustained efforts. ]