It was an unnaturally bright day in Gotham; Murphy, of course, fated it to be a day Tim was leaving the city. Of course; the irony left him smiling wryly as he waited for his ride in Robinson Park. Spring was coming; it was unusually warm, and in this tree surrounded area,he could hear the birds that had returned to the city. Idly, he wondered if he was listening to Robins; it was hard to tell when they weren't making those threatening PEEK tut tut noises. Running a hand through his hair as the world-hopper arrived, Tim held his breath through the trip, ignoring the sickness it left in his stomach. It was uncomfortable, but nothing unbearable.

Miami. He wasn't sure he'd ever been to Miami; it wasn't some place a case had ever drawn him, and he'd never visited otherwise. It was nice - Tony's house(like it could really just be called a house) was nicer. Tim approached with an appraising eye; he was used to the architecture of the manor, old, classic. This place was new, modern; it felt alive in the strangest sense.

Plastering a smile on his face (it wasn't that hard today; must be the maybe-robins he'd been listening to), Tim made his way to the almost intimidating front door and pressed his index finger against the doorbell.