"It's not," Tim said brightly. Even if he had been intending to camp here, seeing another Tribute is the first and only sign that he needs to know that it's time to move on. "I was taking a minute to enjoy the scenery on my way through. It's a nice patch of sand. Very beige."
He was being sized up, and Tim held his ground for it. She might have more weapons, but that was as encumbering as it was helpful. Good luck holding onto the scythe while wielding a crossbow, or vice versa. Whichever she dropped, he would smash. There were other points in his favor, as well. The clothes hid most of the damage he'd taken in the fight with the Grand Highblood, and his shoulder had been popped back into socket by an ally. It wasn't perfect, but it wasn't his dominant arm anyway. He looked healthy enough, for the Arena.
And - Batgirls and Wonder Woman be damned - he was male, and Tim knew that psychologically that counted. No matter how much stock a person put into the women's liberation movement and equal rights, there were millions of years of evolution behind men being seen as dominant, threatening fighters.
If he took control of the situation, maybe they could both head off without other injuries. "I still want you to keep your distance. We circle around at 20 yards, and I'll let you go your way. I'll go mine. This never happened."
The tone. It's all about how things sound, and Tim hits that Red Robin voice on all cylinders: low in pitch and strong in volume, without resorting to shouting. There's a firmness that implies that acquiescance is not only expected, but recommended. The bo never so much as quivers in front of him.
no subject
He was being sized up, and Tim held his ground for it. She might have more weapons, but that was as encumbering as it was helpful. Good luck holding onto the scythe while wielding a crossbow, or vice versa. Whichever she dropped, he would smash. There were other points in his favor, as well. The clothes hid most of the damage he'd taken in the fight with the Grand Highblood, and his shoulder had been popped back into socket by an ally. It wasn't perfect, but it wasn't his dominant arm anyway. He looked healthy enough, for the Arena.
And - Batgirls and Wonder Woman be damned - he was male, and Tim knew that psychologically that counted. No matter how much stock a person put into the women's liberation movement and equal rights, there were millions of years of evolution behind men being seen as dominant, threatening fighters.
If he took control of the situation, maybe they could both head off without other injuries. "I still want you to keep your distance. We circle around at 20 yards, and I'll let you go your way. I'll go mine. This never happened."
The tone. It's all about how things sound, and Tim hits that Red Robin voice on all cylinders: low in pitch and strong in volume, without resorting to shouting. There's a firmness that implies that acquiescance is not only expected, but recommended. The bo never so much as quivers in front of him.