Chapter Text
Damian scowled as he looked at his doll parts.
Why must all his family be jacked as shit?
He lines up the doll bases he was thinking of, digging them out from the bottom of the limb box.
Hexiciah Steam, Dexter Charming, Hunter Huntsman with a Clawd head, Deuce Gorgon with his snakes ripped off, Twyla almost looking unrecognizable as Twyla due to how much he had to tear her apart, Clawdia, Clawdeen, Clawd, and Howleen.
All of them bare of the factory printed faces and of the factory hair rooting.
Last week he had given all of them the appropriate skin tones.
Father, Baba, Jason, Timothy, himself, Barbara, Stephanie, Duke, and Cassandra.
That was an ordeal to color-match paints to everyone’s foundation and concealer color.
He beheads them and pulls out a hank of black hair, grabbing what is going to become Father first.
Damian gets his rerooting tool and turns on one of his playlists, getting a few strands and plugging them into the doll head.
He has his concept sketches practically memorized by now.
Father and Jason with sharp lines, Baba with graceful features, Timothy with a widow’s peak and dark circles, himself with appropriate baby fat (loathe he was to admit it), Barbara with her wheelchair, Stephanie with her chin, Duke with his yarn flocking as a stand-in for his short hair, and Cassandra with her smaller stature comparable to his own.
He gets lost in the rerooting process, bringing each color of hair closer to himself when he needs it.
He finished with Father’s and Baba’s and glued them, and was sticking Jason’s doll head on the rerooting pike by the time he noticed that Timothy was in the doorway.
While Damian had ceased with his attacks upon Timothy’s person, their alliance was still budding at best.
“Do you wish for something?”
“Nah, just wanted to stop by and check on everyone.”
Damian raises an eyebrow.
“Isn’t that Father’s or Alfred’s job?”
“It’s the job of anyone who’s fighting irrationalities.” Tim raised his coffee mug.
“Ah, I hope your brain shuts up soon.”
“Me too, kid, me too.”
He glances at his work so far, making a decision that probably would ease Tim’s mind.
“Would you like to see what I am working on?”
Tim nods, pulling up a chair beside him.
“Dolls?”
“Of us. There is a reason why I asked for swatches of your concealer and foundation.”
He tilts his head.
“Yeah, it was kinda weird you asked that of everyone.”
Damian looks at him out of the corner of his eye, hands steadily plugging in hair.
“What do you know about doll customizing?”
“I know it exists but I normally take pictures of Kon and Bernard’s finished Gundam models.”
He hums, gluing the hair plugs down from the neck hole.
“This is along the same lines of Gundam models, but you don’t have specific instructions or a specific kit that you buy.”
“So, just vibing, a design if you want it, and commit?”
“In simple terms, pretty much.”
Tim looks at the current supplies out, hair hanks and rerooting tools with pastels pushed to the side.
“I’m pretty sure you’re doing us as civilians?”
“Affirmative, I am currently waiting on a few variations of our Bat gear to finish printing before I even think about trying to translate our suits to doll size.”
“Yeah, that sounds like that would take a while for the clothing.”
He picks up Timothy’s doll head and starts rerooting that one.
“I’m currently thinking of doing a Robin lineup with Chelsea dolls next.”
“To really be dwarfed by the nightmare-fuel 15-inch Batman on your shelf?”
“Be glad I didn’t use a Smart Doll as a base for him.”
“Those 25-inch ones? That would’ve been terrifying.”
Damian grinned.
“Indeed.”
Tim watches him as he does his rerooting, just chilling.
“This is like Alfred and his knitting, isn’t it?”
He chuckles.
“Comparable in a way. I have a favor to ask.”
“Normal favor rules apply.”
“As expected. Anyways, would you be up for photographing the completed dolls?”
Tim snorts.
“I would have asked to do that anyways, Damian, you might be good at art but damn do you suck at taking pictures.”
“Astute observation, and that is the entire reason I want you to do the pictures.”
“Cool, you can tell me when you are satisfied with them. In the meantime, I can scope out possible locations after hanging out with you.”
Damian pauses in rerooting.
“Is- Is that what this is?”
“Well, yeah, I went from oldest to youngest and wanted to stay.”
He nods.
“That is agreeable Tim.”