Training sessions at the Batcave be like…
Batman: *powers off the villain generator*
Batman: *watches as his sons get up from the various places they ended up in, dust off their bloody and singed suits, and groan in pain*
Batman: …
Batman: Well, this simulated disaster is a total disaster.
Alfred: *goes upstairs to grab some tea and medical supplies*
And it’s this familiarity with homemade disasters that makes the Robins experts on the field.
Tim: *says he swears he sees Kon’s framed photo on his wall move by itself from time to time*
Jason: Your safe house isn’t haunted, bro. You’re lonely.
Red Robin: *crouching behind the giant coin in the Batcave*
Nightwing: *walks in*
Red Robin: *to his walkie-talkie* The Hug Machine is here. I repeat, the Hug Machine is here. Smiling on all cylinders.
The rest of the Batfamily: *temporarily stop brooding to find hiding places*
Dick tends to get in the way of angst and sadness.
At the Annual Justice League Talent Competition…
Robin: *watches his brothers performing onstage*
Robin: That is my band. I didn’t recognize them without me because I’m the only one that matters.
And this is why they kicked you out, Dami.
Undercover mission at a Gotham City home for the elderly…
Tim: *whispering* I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to have a weapon in a place full of old people.
Jason: *whispering back* Literally everything is a weapon, Tim. These dentures in my hand are far deadlier than that staff on your back.
In which Jason realizes what he just said, drops the dentures, and squeals like a little girl, almost blowing their cover.
Batman: *studying a case on the Batcomputer*
Nightwing: *parkour-ing from giant memento to giant memento in the Batcave*
Red Hood: *aiming at the bats with his guns (”What? For target practice!”)*
Red Robin: *rambles on about his Multiverse theories to Bruce while dragging around an IV stand with a pouch of pure liquid caffeine*
Batgirl: *taking a selfie while Spoiler braids her hair*
Robin: *approaching Alfred with Batcow in tow (”I need more pet food, Pennyworth.”)*
Lark: *Snapchatting everyone while ducking to avoid Dick (”Typical Tuesdays”)*
Batman: *finds it hard to focus, stops typing*
Batman: *looks at the chaos that is his children*
Alfred: *serves Bruce some tea*
Batman: Alfred, this is like a waking nightmare of happiness.
Alfred: *grins and walks away*
Orphan: *hugs Bruce’s neck from behind*
Batman: *grins as his daughter skips away to join the fray*
At a candy store…
Clerk: Oh, we don’t accept… *carefully examines bill* “Bat-dollars”, sir.
Damian: That is the most powerful piece of paper in the world! Of course you’ll accept it. Accept it.
In which it dawns on Damian that his brothers have been shi**ing him the whole time (and that Jason and Tim better hide – and hide well – if they want to stay alive).
GCPD Officer: I’m sorry, is your name “Timothy”? *writes it on his pad*
Red Robin: No, it’s “Tyymothyy” with four y’s. It used to be “Timothy”, but then I decided to re-brand myself. Oh, wait, it’s Xanax o’clock.
Just taze him to sleep, Officer. He needs it badly. His family will support you.
Undercover mission at a Gotham City home for the elderly…
Tim: *whispering* I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to have a weapon in a place full of old people.
Jason: *whispering back* Literally everything is a weapon, Tim. These dentures in my hand are far deadlier than that staff on your back.
Tim: Aaaarrrggh, you are such a sore loser, Damian!
Damian: I am not a sore loser, Drake. It’s just that I prefer to win, and when I don’t, I get furious.
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