Throughout the hued, muddled mixtures of pixels blending together-Tim is beginning to think that it's been hours and hours upon end, fixated on this computer.

But he can't quit now, not when he's so close.

For a few months now, he's been running stale on missions. While he wouldn't complain usually for the ludicrous amount of free time, it didn't feel right. It felt wrong. That's when he first met them. The nameless hacker, only leaving their trademark, a signature smiley face. They were harmless at first, only melting in spaces between the bits of code.

Until they started misleading him. For every supposed 'crime ring' Tim was pinged to, it'd end up with him alone in a empty warehouse, or in the middle of the streets, or in some cases at a smoothie shop.

(...He indulged in the strawberry-cheesecake one.)

Short to say, Tim was a little pissed off. This hacker was getting in the way of his work as a vigilante. Stopping him from keeping Gotham safe all for the sake of some poorly-written joke, it was almost childish.

Tim let a slow, sharp breath leave his nose, clasping his hands together as his eyes narrowed towards the computer screen, mask discarded on the table besides him, still in his trademark attire.

The hacker had began to type, agonizingly slow, as if they were wringing their fingers on a decades old typewriter.

...:)

Tim stared.

"What is your deal?" Tim typed angrily, eyebrows drawn tight. "You're hiding behind a screen, what, are you too much of a coward to come meet me in reality? You take keyboard warrior to a whole other level."