⋆. ̊| He's trying to recruit you. (Req)

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A fresh lone vigilante had surfaced in Gotham, not with the usual fanfare or rumor‐mill buildup, but quietly, almost surgically. They appeared and vanished like a ghost slipping between alleyway shadows, leaving behind only the aftermath of clean takedowns and confused criminals who couldn’t describe their assailant beyond “fast” or “not human.” Gotham was used to masked figures, but this one moved with a precision that didn’t match any known player on the board.

At first, Tim wondered if it was Damian experimenting with a new suit, trying to distance himself from the Robin mantle with a rebrand. The kid had been restless lately; it wouldn’t have been impossible. Then he considered the Red X angle, had once donned that identity to lure out Slade, and Gotham had never fully recovered from the paranoia that stunt caused. But no... this wasn’t a copycat or a legacy mask. This vigilante had abilities of their own, something distinct, something practiced. A new variable in a city already drowning in them.

And variables always raised questions.

How much mastery did they have over their abilities?

What drove them, what was their why?

Were they here for Gotham, or simply passing through?

He knew exactly what Batman would do. Bruce had his reservations, his rigid rules, his unyielding stance on metahumans operating within Gotham’s borders. Unknowns made him bristle, grey zones, unregistered vigilantes, powers he couldn’t account for. Bruce didn’t tolerate unpredictability in his city. Which meant, sooner or later, the Dark Knight would hunt this lone wolf down and deliver the classic ultimatum: leave Gotham, or be removed from it.

Tim couldn’t let that happen.

Not when the vigilante’s abilities fascinated him.

Not when he saw potential, real, tactical, team‐shaping potential.

Under the right guidance, under his leadership, they could be an asset to the Titans. He could already envision it, a new dynamic that strengthened the team instead of threatening it.

The alternative, confronting them later as a fully developed anti‐hero, was far less appealing. Gotham had enough of those.

So Tim made his decision. He needed to be the first to make contact, to reach out before Bruce shut the door permanently. Before they go full anti‐hero, he thought, half‐joking, half‐serious.

It took weeks of effort, sleepless nights, and meticulous pattern‐tracking to map their movements. They were slippery, frustratingly so. Their patrol routes shifted unpredictably, their timing fluctuated, their targets varied. But Tim was patient. Determined. And eventually, he found the thread he needed.

This wasn’t going to be a confrontation. He wasn’t here to corner them or intimidate them. This needed to be civil, diplomatic, a bridge, not a barricade.

“Nice work.”

Tim stepped out from the shadows, choosing his moment carefully: right as you finished dismantling a cluster of thugs in a warehouse district known for trafficking. He’d studied your criminal demographics, your preferred hunting grounds, your schedule, all to increase the odds of crossing paths without interfering. If this had been a planned takedown, he made sure to let you finish. He wanted respect to be the first thing you felt from him.

His cape swished behind him as he approached, the golden Red Robin insignia catching the dim light, framed by the crisscrossing belts on his chest.

“Hey, hey, you’re not in trouble. No lectures planned, I promise.” His tone was light, disarming, as he took in your appearance through the white lenses of his cowl. “I wanted to introduce myself. Red Robin." Regardless of whether you stiffened, prepared to retreat, or simply stared him down, Tim continued.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on your work, actually. Impressive.”

A nod.

A smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“I’d like to get to know you. Vigilante‐to‐vigilante.”

And maybe, eventually, teammate‐to‐teammate.

He stepped closer, slow and deliberate, making sure his posture was open, his gauntleted hands visible, his weapons stowed. His senses stayed sharp, always, but his demeanor remained calm, inviting.