Mornings at the Manor…
Bruce: Good morning, everyone!
Alfred:
Dick:
Jason:
Tim:
Damian:
Bruce: *sits down on the kitchen table, pours himself a cup of coffee, and picks up the Gotham Gazette*
Jason [to Tim]: *whispering* Ah, crap. He’s in love again.
Because a cheerful Bruce is a suspicious Bruce. (And that might have something to do with a certain, um, Cat.)
Mornings at the Manor…
Damian: *preparing his dental hygiene paraphernalia*
Jason: *standing in front of the mirror, peeling dead skin off himself*
Damian: Gross, Todd!
Jason: Hey, Little D! Want some double-dead beef jerky? *tosses the skin at Damian*
And the ensuing destruction of Wayne Manor property has forced Bruce to have two separate bathrooms constructed.
Mornings at the Manor…
Alfred: *decorating pancakes with whipped butter and blueberries*
Dick: *eating cereal while doing a one-armed handstand*
Jason: *throwing bacon bits at Dick’s face*
Tim: *enters the kitchen*
Damian: What’s that smell? *sniffs the room*
Everyone else: *stops to sniff*
Damian: Smells like sweat and anger and shame.
Tim: *with dark rings under his eyes*
Tim: *pours coffee onto the wrong end of his mug*
Tim: *sighs* Yep.
So, I’ve decided to add a new tag to some of my posts (see title above). I’ve been using it as a header quite a bit and figured I might as well make it into a tag.
In my mind, the Batfamily’s just as domestic as any of us in the AM (except for the fact that they’ve probably just gotten home a few hours before breakfast, bruised and bleeding, perhaps high on painkillers, after having taken down a vast criminal empire or threat from another planet or something).
So, yeah. “Mornings at the Manor”. My dream sitcom.
(Winter) Mornings at the Manor…
Damian: *takes a sip and grimaces*
Damian: What did you make this hot chocolate with? Crap?
Tim: *sighs* If you want me to make you another one, just say so.
Damian: I just thought you would make it with milk, Drake. Instead of crap.
Damian, here on Earth we say “Thank you”.
Mornings at the Manor…
Dick: *staring at his cereal bowl*
Dick: Timmy! There’s a message in my Alphabits! It says, “Oooooo”!
Tim: Dick, those are Cheerios.
~ · ~ · ~ · ~ · ~ · ~
Go back to sleep, Dick. You clearly need more of it.
Mornings at the Manor…
Tim: I don’t have post-traumatic stress! I have post-traumatic ennui! Post-traumatic defeatism! Post-traumatic “What’s the point?”!
Jason was just asking if you wanted more sugar for your coffee, sweetie…
Mornings at the Manor…
Dick: *scouring cabinets for the last box of Lucky Charms*
Jason: *sipping tea*
Tim: *working on his laptop, half a waffle hanging from his mouth*
Damian: *enters the kitchen looking solemn*
Damian: Drake. I need you to teach me how to be… a douchebag.
Dick and Jason:
Tim:
Tim: Let’s get started.
Tim and Damian: *walk out of the kitchen*
Jason: What is happening in the world?
Mornings at the Manor…
Jason: Lotus Bear Relax! I can smell it on you right now!
Tim: Stop smelling my hair!
Jason: You know how much that stuff cost?
Tim: I didn’t use your conditioner!
Jason: Then why does your hair look so baby soft?!
Mornings at the Manor…
Tim: *wakes up, yawns, stretches, sees “3:30” on his phone clock*
Tim: …
Tim: Uh. What are you doing here?
Roy: *bruised, bloodied, in a tattered Arsenal uniform, and perched on the window sill*
Roy: Your brother’s gonna wake up mad at me. When he does, be sure to remind him who his best friend is.
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