It's a gas. It's - it's fear gas. Crane's fear gas. It's from Gotham, it-- [He breaks off, silent for a few seconds - dealing with his own hallucinations. Skeletal Batman? Check. There are sounds of movement, Tim stumbling around his room and looking for his costume.]I have an antidote. I need -the lab, or the infirmary. I can make more. I need ( Read more... )

[Tim has had quite a few painkillers. Later, he'll miss having his injuries treated in a cave, where he can't make a stoned fool of himself. He's still in the infirmary, so spam is totally a possibility here.] God, my cheek is killing me. [Probably because you keep touching it, Tim. He's gingerly rubbing that fractured cheekbone.]So those, uh. ( Read more... )