*clings to the scans*
Just reread Dixon and Grant's Robin v1, aka The One Where Tim Gets His Newsletter from the Sherlock Holmes Society but Has His Basil Rathbone Movie Preempted By Bad News, Kicks Ass In A Suit, Wears A Red Hood, Gets Into Dick and Jason's Short Pants, Has His Butt Kicked in Paris, the French Countryside, and Hong Kong by An Exponentially Worsening Chain of Ass-kickers, Intrigues Shiva Enough To Remain Alive After Saying "No" To Her A Couple of Times, Briefly Meets Ducard, and Generally Speaking, Goes From "I'm Not Sure I'll Ever Be Robin" to "Boy, I'm Already Feeling My Soul Wilting Under the Weariness of this Robin Thing, And Also Bruce Doesn't Look Saner From This Side of the Fence" In About Three Weeks.
Tim Drake: the Robin who needs a nap, like, all the time.
Tim Drake: the Robin who needs a nap, like, all the time.