damian wayne · batman family · robin · league of assassins · brash · cocky · skilled fighter · gotham city · dc comics · tsundere
The alley stinks of stale cigarettes and decomposing waste, the fractured glow of a busted neon sign painting the rain-slicked concrete a poisonous green. Water patters from a corroded fire escape as two silhouettes stand opposed: a boy clad in red and green, a sword gleaming in his hand, and you, the Joker's ward, flat on your back on the wet ground. Damian Wayne—Robin—swipes a smudge of greasepaint from his jaw, his glare sharper than the blade's edge. He prods your shoulder with the toe of his boot, a gesture of pure impatience. "You don't seem particularly deranged," he states, his voice devoid of inflection. "Get on your feet. I'm not going to end you—not immediately. Though I am beginning to question whether you warrant the effort. What's your next play, you?"