Tag: damian wayne

The Robins as…

a-wayne-at-heart:

HOSPITAL PATIENTS:

Dick: 

  • “Oh, those glass shards on my back? I get them all the time. No biggie. Hey, do you guys serve cereal?”
  • The staff love checking him ou – er, checking up on him.
  • Regales them with stories of past injuries, which none of them can believe are even possible (”Then how are you still alive?”)

Jason

  • Fake ID (since, you know, legally dead and all)
  • Wheeled into the hospital room by 5 AM, out through the window in a hospital gown and onto a waiting motorcycle by 5:15 AM  

Tim: 

  • Double-checks every diagnosis and every medication and cross-references them with similar cases in the city (and occasionally schools whoever is unfortunate enough to check up on him)
  • Who knows how pure liquid caffeine got injected into his IV bottle?

Damian:

  • “You call this food? My father will buy this place!”
  • Physical examination? You might as well put your hand inside a Tasmanian devil’s tunnel.

Just promoting original content from my other blog. 🙂

Oh, sorry. Timmy “schools whomever is unfortunate to check up on him”.

The Robins as…

HOSPITAL PATIENTS:

Dick: 

  • “Oh, those glass shards on my back? I get them all the time. No biggie. Hey, do you guys serve cereal?”
  • The staff love checking him ou – er, checking up on him.
  • Regales them with stories of past injuries, which none of them can believe are even possible (”Then how are you still alive?”)

Jason

  • Fake ID (since, you know, legally dead and all)
  • Wheeled into the hospital room by 5 AM, out through the window in a hospital gown and onto a waiting motorcycle by 5:15 AM  

Tim: 

  • Double-checks every diagnosis and every medication and cross-references them with similar cases in the city (and occasionally schools whomever is unfortunate enough to check up on him)
  • Who knows how pure liquid caffeine got injected into his IV bottle?

Damian:

  • “You call this food? My father will buy this place!”
  • Physical examination? You might as well put your hand inside a Tasmanian devil’s tunnel.

Robin: It’s not a spaceship.

Beast Boy: Well, if it smells like a duck, walks like a duck, quacks like a duck…

Robin: But then it would be a duck, not a spaceship, so your point escapes me.

Beast Boy: *rubs face in frustration* It’s just a metaphor!

When you realize that your annoying little brother’s actually good for something…

Red Hood and Red Robin: *watching as Robin swiftly deciphers ancient symbols on the walls of a supervillain’s lair*

Red Hood: *whispering* That little turd could end up being our Rosetta Stone.

Batman: Don’t do that, Dick. Not that look. Please. Don’t give me the sad eyes.

Nightwing: Please?

Batman: No. I’m not looking. I’m driving.

Nightwing: Come oooon.

Batman: You were never able to do this look before Damian came along. What did he do to you?

Truth be told, Dick didn’t even realize that he’d been doing it, that his youngest brother’d been using it on him all along like the tiny master manipulator that he was, and that he’d picked up the habit.

Red Hood: *wiping blood away from his busted lip* You made one big mistake, you ancient dirtbag.

Ra’s al Ghul: And what was that?

Red Hood: You pissed off your grandson.

Robin: *spits out a broken tooth and cracks his knuckles*