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Tim, talking to a new super: Yeah a lot of stuff happens to people in my family when theyre 17

Tim: When my dad was 17 he ran off to train with assassins

Tim: When my older brother was 17 he became a crime lord

Tim: When I was 17 I briefly led an assassin cult

Tim: And then there’s my little brother, I’ve always kinda considered him the black sheep of the family

New super, bracing themselves: oh god

Tim, hissing: When he was 17 he went to med school

Bruce has a strict 'no metas/powers (except duke) allowed in Gotham' policy in place but it has a clause, BYOR (Bring Your Own Robin)

No one is allowed entry untill and unless they can produce their very own certified robin-shaped identity card

Whenever someone with even a hint of supernatural powers in them arrives at Gotham, they're first met with Bruce standing at the city border with a notepad in hand

Bruce: State your name and purpose.

Kon: Kon-el, here to hangout!

Bruce: Your Robin?

Kon, flourishing Tim from behind him: Ta-Da!

Tim, waves: Hey Bruce

Bruce: Approved, you may enter

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce: Name and purpose?

Hal: Here to investigate a case, Hal Jordan

Bruce: Your Robin?

Hal: I.... don't have one?

Bruce: Denied

Hal: What?! But-

Bruce: Denied.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce: Yes, Wally, where's your robin?

Wally: Oh shit lemme just- *zaps away and returns with Dick, who was in the midst of brushing his teeth, in a bridal carry*- Here!

Bruce, grumbling a little: Fine. Approved.

Dick: You gotta stop using me as a key already, man

Wally: Blame Bruce.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce: Name and purpose?

Clark: Clark Kent, here for our monthly barbecue

Bruce: Robin?

Clark, producing an actual robin bird: Does this count?

Bruce:.....yes