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Dick was always great at small talk. It was one of the those things that just came naturally to him. Most people ramble when they are nervous, not Dick. Dick just liked to talk. Maybe it was his age, or just his personality, but he liked to chat and could often pull topics out of nowhere just to get someone to keep talking. When he was Robin he used it to his advantage. Chatting put civilians at ease and annoyed the hell out of criminals. It was the best of both worlds.
The quietest he had ever been was that first car ride to the Manor after his parents had died. He didn’t say a word, just stared out the window watching the raindrops cascade down the glass.
Bruce was terrible at small talk. He kept asking Dick yes or no questions, so Dick answered him with a yes or a no. If Dick had been in a better mood that night he would have teased the man at his lack of skill and given him proper instructions on pulling out information from people. The key was asking the questions in a way that would elicit a longer answer forcing the recipient to elaborate, instead of being stuck in a loop of yes and no. But Dick didn’t feel like talking.
Bruce wasn’t terrible at small talk, and neither was Batman. Sometimes the answers to important questions only needed one word answers.
Jason hated small talk. He felt people were at their most insincere when they were peppering others with idle chit-chat. It was a trait he saw in spades on the streets whenever a John would approach the workers on the corner. It was definitely something that Jason didn’t even try to be good at because he loathed it so much. The questions were always stupid. Not to mention it made it impossible to end the blather as one answer always produced three more questions. Jason functioned better in silent contemplation without having to hear or say constant nonsense out loud.
It was different with Dick. When they had first met Jason had warned him, “get to the point, Dick and don’t bullshit me." Jason knew that Dick needed to talk in order to get things out. Jason didn’t count this as small talk, it was conversation and Jason was all for it.
Tim didn’t mind small talk. It wasn’t a quality that generated naturally in him like Dick, but he could do it. Rather than allow the conversation to go in circles, he knew how to end it before it escalated to a thoroughly awkward encounter. It was a skill that his mother had taught him from the tender age of 7. They were old fashioned and came from the school of thought that “children were best seen and not heard”. While he had been seen in attendance at many galas, Tim had been silently learning the art of “working the room”, which is just a fancy way of learning the art of small talk.
He only used this conversational ability as an interrogation tactic for both witnesses and criminals. It served one purpose and it was simply to get information, not to be social. Dick was able to do both without any effort, but not Tim. Tim could be social, but that energy was saved for his friends and family only.
Cass loved small talk, but her limited vocabulary and difficulty speaking hindered her participation. Still, it didn’t seem to bother her or Dick. She would listen with rapt attention at his stories of the circus and life on the road with his parents. She would engage as best she could with two or three word responses. Depending on the inflection, Dick could always tell the difference between a question and statement. It was great practice even if after awhile she’d get tired and resort to signing.
Damian tolerated small talk, but hardly ever participated in it, at least not in the beginning during his time as Robin. He was raised by the League to think that unnecessary chatter was a useless strategy and a clear sign of weakness. After all, assassins were to remain silent at all times observing their targets from the shadows. It’s difficult, not to mention impossible, to acquire the proper stealth if one was constantly blathering on about nothing. It seemed like Grayson thrived on constant conversation, but the topics were always on point; always instructing, never condescending about the importance of Robin and what the mantle stood for with Batman in the war against crime.
Alfred was indifferent when it came to small talk. He could take it or leave it. Truthfully it wasn’t part of his post as the butler. Initiating conversation was not listed as part of his job description, though participation was encouraged. Since his role had changed when his charge was 10, communication became vital. It was now a necessity to practice if he was to help a grief stricken child in his care. But Bruce didn’t want to talk, and Alfred had never pushed him. Instead, he simply made himself available to listen should Bruce change his mind.
For years car rides had been generally silent. It is what Bruce had preferred, that is until Dick Grayson came along. Alfred learned quickly that the boy loved to talk, and he was certainly grateful for it.