<div class="floatleft">(http://i1067.photobucket.com/albums/u423/Danny_Maesepp/portrait_zps9hrd6ael.png)</div><hr/><strong>Name</strong>: Damian Wayne<br/><strong>Nom de Guerre</strong>: Robin<br/><strong>Affiliation</strong>: The 'Bat Family'<br/><strong>Time</strong>: Fridays the 2nd of June 2017, 20:10<br/><strong>Location</strong>: Gotham Sewers<br/><strong>Tagging</strong>: Everyone<hr/><br/>The darkness wasn't an issue, but the smell most certainly was. Chasing down the criminals of Gotham brought with it a myriad of exotic locales, from the skyrise apartments of corrupt officials, to the casinos and nightclubs owned by the 'untouchable' crime families. In this case, it had led to the sewers. It took a moment to adjust to the overpowering stench of the tunnels, and to determine the direction in which the fleeing footsteps were disappearing. The sound echoed all around and for a fleeting moment, the shadow that hung suspended upside-down from its grapple line seemed to hesitate.<br/>"<em>Tony...!</em>" a voice echoed from the east, distressed and short of breath. The shadow dropped without a sound, and disappeared down the eastern tunnel, the darkness swallowing him.<br/>"<em>Oh, tell me you weren't followed...</em>" another voice groaned.<br/>"<em>No, I swear I lost him</em>".<br/>"<em>Him?</em>"<br/>"<em>I think it was the Bat, but... I dunno, Ronnie. We gotta move the stash. Tonight.</em>"<br/>"<em>We can't just move it Tony, look how much there is! Boss ain't gonna be happy...</em>"<br/><br/>Nestled in the shadows of the accessway, Robin narrowed his eyes at the stockpile of drugs that had lazily been covered with a ripped tarp. Sealed in cellophane, there was enough heroin to flood the streets of Gotham for months. Usually he wouldn't bother with such small-time criminals, but things had been slow over the past few weeks. He'd decided to follow up on a loose end that Batman - Dick - had been investigating, and it hadn't taken long to locate and intimidate one of the dealers. It was a blessing that this particular dealer, Tony, wasn't the brightest candle on the proverbial chandelier; as soon as Robin had allowed him to give him the slip, he'd headed straight for the base of their seedy little operation. All Robin had had to do was stalk him from the shadows. It was child's play, a waste of his skills, and he doubted that the resolution would grant any satisfaction.<br/><br/>Deciding he'd given them long enough to argue, he primed an explosive birdarang, and from his sanctuary in the darkness, sent it whistling across the tunnel. The sudden thud as it embedded itself in the stash stopped Tony and Ronnie in the middle of their squabble, and both turned just in time to witness their payday explode into a cloud of dust.<br/>"<em>The stash!</em>" Ronnie cried out, covering his face and coughing, while Tony tried in vain to stem the flow of the white powder from cascading into the sewage.<br/>"<em>What happened -</em>"<br/>"<em>The Bat!</em>" Ronnie choked, pointing to a lone figure that suddenly swung from the shadows. Tony turned to face his swooping stalker, but was swallowed in the depths of an unfurled cape and bowled over. Turned inside out and upside down, he squirmed for a moment, and then lay still when a hand grabbed him by the head and slammed it into the ground.<br/>"You're going to wish it was Batman," Robin snarled, peering out from under his hood. By the dim glow cast from the overhead service light, he could be seen crouching over the unconscious dealer, the muted reds and greens of his gear stark against the dark sewer tunnel.<br/>"<em>The boy wonder?</em>" Ronnie laughed, shaking his head with disbelief. "<em>Got some nerve kid, comin' down here on your own. Gotta make you pay for what you just did to my payload.</em>" A gun emerged from Ronnie's concealed holster, and it was all the signal Robin needed to go on the attack.<br/><br/>Before a shot was even fired, Ronnie found himself screaming and clutching at a bladed shuriken-like birdarang embedded in his wrist. The next moment, Robin was on him; punching at him with birdarang's clutched between his fingers, gouging his face deeply and beating him bloody, until the conspirator crumpled to the floor. In seconds, the tunnel had fallen silent again, but for the steady flow of waste and water and the occasional drip echoing through the darkness.<br/>Robin took a moment to calm down and slow his breathing, using the sight of the bloody and battered dealer on the ground at his feet to center himself. He'd gone overboard; he knew that, but he didn't much care. As small-time as these dealers may be compared to his usual fare, it was people like them that kept the city drowning in crime and corruption. He couldn't afford to be selective in his treatment of the unjust; as his grandfather had once told him, equality should not be confused with equity.<br/>Movement; he picked out the quietest of scrapes from behind, a boot on concrete, and reflexively he ducked into a turn and flicked his wrist. The three birdarangs he'd been wielding soared free, taking Tony in the knee, the gut and the temple. Once again, the dealer fell to unconsciousness - and, Robin suspected, a bruised gut and a fractured knee - and Robin decided he was done here. Two more thugs taken out of Nightwing - no, Batman's - investigation. He supposed Dick would forget to thank him.<em>Screw Dick.</em><br/><br/>Hopping lithely over Tony's awkwardly-draped form, Robin scooped his fallen birdarangs from the floor, and then disappeared up the service ladder that led up to the surface.<br/>"<em>Master Damian?</em>" his earpiece nagged, as Robin emerged from a manhole in the back of a darkened alleyway. Instinctively, he drew his grapnel launcher, and ascended to the rooftops where he could look down upon the city. "<em>Master Damian?</em>"<br/>"Alert GCPD that two more drug runners have been caught in the sewer access tunnel in the Bowery, behind the Gotham Merchants Bank," Robin droned into his earpiece. He was already on the lookout for a better nights work, something more fulfilling and worthy of his talents.<br/>"<em>Master Damian...</em>"<br/>"And if you see Batman, tell him he can thank me for doing his job for him."<br/>"<em>Master Damian! If you'd let me speak for a minute you'd realise that the police department is quite busy with something much bigger at the moment. Or didn't you see the big bloody signal in the sky?</em>"<br/>Robin turned his attention skyward, and swallowed hard. There, among the clouds, the Batsignal shone bright. A cry for help, a beacon of hope, a relic of times gone by. Things must have gotten dire, if Gordon had ordered that old thing lit up again.<br/>"Of course I saw the signal!" he lied, indignantly, while his hopes flourished at the thought of a challenge worthy of his attention. "I'll take care of it." With that, Robin tapped his earpiece, and disconnected from the Batcave. He didn't need Alfred listening in on his every move, and he certainly didn't need Dick tracing his location so he could swoop in and steal the glory. If there was work to be done, then he, Damian Wayne, would be the one to do it. Batman wasn't Batman anymore - not with Dick so uneasy in the role - and so, Robin had taken it upon himself to haunt Gotham at night, instilling fear the only way he knew how; by the methods taught to him by the League of Assassins.<br/><br/>It didn't take long before Robin realised the cause of the disturbance. Swooping from rooftop to rooftop, the sounds of explosions and sirens reached him long before he sailed into the museum quarter. By the time he landed gracefully atop a gargoyle overlooking the Gotham Central Museum, the situation had escalated beyond his wildest predictions.<br/>"What the..." Robin muttered to himself, and from his elevated position, took stock of the scene before him. It was, for want of a better description, a firework show, and it seemed every hero within reach had received an invitation. He didn't recognize the woman at the center of it all, but she was clearly a proponent of magic, and that, to Robin, smelled like a<em>true</em>test of skill.<br/>He fired a line from his perch, and swung down low, zipping over Shazam's head before his line retracted and drew him up to the museum roof. He landed long enough to loose a cluster of flash-bangs at the woman below, the one he'd heard Shazam name as 'Enchantress', then drew his katana and fired another grapnel to the ground. Whether Shazam's magical ministrations or his own flash-bangs had had any effect on the woman, he'd soon find out, as his line launcher pulled him to the ground in a trajectory that put the Enchantress beneath him, just in range of his blade...<br/><br/>