Owner	Pose
Dick Grayson	The digital time link on the inside of Nightwing's wrist continues to creep forwards, the numbers flipping over silently as the minutes tick past. It's moving slowly enough that that might very well be the reason of consternation on the young vigilante's features. Then again it might be something else entirely different.     He's crouched on the edge of a building, a warehouse that is partially filled with old crates and a myriad of pipes that hang low on the ceiling. Definitely not one of the better ones on the river side of Gotham, but it has its place in the history of the city. It's where the old DA had a shootout with the prohibition era gangsters who had been using the place as a speak-easy. It's where a German submarine was captured in the forties during an elaborate plan to infiltrate the city. And tonight it'll be the ground Nightwing chooses as the place where he'll stand his ground and fulfill his due obligations.     "Annoying how time can move both too slowly and too quickly at the same time." He says to himself, perhaps just to have the thought captured on the recording equipment in his mask's HUD. Or perhaps to calm his nerves just a touch.
Damian Wayne	Nightwing had made it clear he wanted to be away from the others. Damian of course was going to oblige his elder, right?   Wrong. After performing some sleuthing over locations in Gotham, and after narrowing down locations, he reached the conclusion that Richard would choose the river side.   Soon enough, Damian had perched on the edge of the warehouse as well. "This is beyond a shadow of a doubt, the most foolish thing you have done, Nightwing." He drapes the golden lined cape around him, nearly concealing all of his colorful costume. "There is one thing that can be done, however."
Dick Grayson	Despite Damian's efforts, Nightwing might well have heard a subtle scuff, a twist of movement. Something that led him to realize someone else had arrived, for he turns on one foot and then rises from his crouch. But when he lays eyes on the other Robin his lip twists upwards a little at first, but then he affixes his stern look into place and tells him. "You shouldn't be here, Robin." That tone of voice is the one he uses when he's trying to sound more like the man who is Damian's father, the one he uses for informants.     But then he waves a hand to the side, "It's still an hour away, but there's no point in you being here." He doesn't want an audience, or interference, or to know that the youth might have to see something he shouldn't despite his upbringing. But then his tone softens and he tries the other angle of actually asking Damian to follow his wishes, "Things are going to be tough enough doing this as it is without you skunking around."     It's a small jab, but it brings a smile to Nightwing's lips.
Damian Wayne	Damian may have let himself be heard despite his training. Call it mutual respect for Nightwing. "Lady Shiva is one of the most difficult opponents you could face on the planet."   Robin lets down his hood, the trim crew cut of his head is shown fully. "But I'm deadlier. Allow me to take your place." He says in all seriousness. "I'm the best assassin in the League. I will not allow myself to lose to Lady Shiva." He even withdraws his sword, holding the tip down to the roof, but showing his readiness.
Dick Grayson	A small exhalation is heard, not quite a snort or a chuff, but enough to sound a touch dismissive. But not for any reason of doubt or impugning his ability. More... that he just shakes his head and steps to the side, leaning against the old air conditioner that hasn't worked in ages yet seems to still trickle a few droplets of water now and again. "Robin..." He says at first, but then seems to take a few moments to consider his words.     "I appreciate your willingness to do that. To put yourself in harm's way for me. But do you think I could still do any of this... or look Batman in the eye... or heck look at myself in a mirror? If I let you take my place?" He lifts a gauntlet to the back of his neck, rubbing there as if pained at this notion.     Then he looks back to the even younger vigilante and adds, "Besides. I've been training over the time she has given me. Dragon has tested me and I have passed. I know you don't want me to do this. But... well I gotta do this for myself, too."
Damian Wayne	And with that, Robin's sword is placed back in the scabbard. The hood raised back up, and all of the barriers Damian can put up in front of himself are raised.   He would never admit his fear of losing Nightwing, but he would express his favorite emotion. "Just don't fucking leave me alone with the other two. I would have their heads on stakes." He comments, sounding more than a bit grumpy.
Dick Grayson	Chuckling faintly, Nightwing shakes his head and looks away, hiding the smile that twists his features. But then he looks back and extends a hand towards the grimmest of the Robins and says with a touch of sincerity. "Deal." And should Robin take his hand he'll give a firm shake, business-like in its execution. Three pumps and done.     But once that's set he says, "Now you do me a favor?" He asks of the other disciple of the Bat. "You go and run interference for the others if they start to get their nose into this. I gotta do this on my own terms, not theirs. Alright?"
Damian Wayne	Robin shakes three times, full of business. "Fine, but father will see through the ruse. The others won't." Damian offers, before taking out hus grapple and shooting it away from their location. "Anything else?"
Dick Grayson	For a moment Dick takes a breath and holds it as if he were about to say something, then he shakes his head. "Nah... not really." Then he says as the grapple line fires and connects, drawing taut with that low whir from the mechanism. "Just figure, whatever happens. You're gonna be okay. Robin." He says the last with some hesitation, as if wanting to use his actual name. But they are on the job. So he's Robin.     He turns and walks across the rooftop, waving over his shoulder. "Get outta here, I gotta get prepped." And that said he lets the younger vigilante beat feet.