Sometimes there's a part of me/ Has to turn from here and go.
Who: Jason Todd and OPEN!
When: Late night, July 9 into 10th
Where: Sector 9! Random rooftops and/or rundown buildings.
Summary: Jason likes to hang out with the type of people he knows best. With bonus guests!
Warnings: None that I know of? But there may be mentions of death/violence/etc.
Well. Tonight wasn't going well. Showing up on a baseball diamond with no sight of Talia or even anything resembling his hideout was not part of the plan. His cell couldn't reach her either, which was strange. Sure, getting a hold of her was sometimes hit and miss, but not this hit and miss. As he leaned against a brick wall, he took a moment to catch his breath. People were easy to fight, they were predictable, easy to maneuver around if one really wanted to avoid them. Whatever these things were, the vigilante had little experience with. An entire year of training in close combat, weaponry, and the like still left him flat-footed on occasions. This wasn't like fighting some run-of-the-mill dirtbag with some campy outfit and catchline, or even russian gangsters.
As he wiped blood from the side of his face, Jason mentally noted to actually wear the helmet Talia had given him the next time he went out; the domino mask provided little protection from the claws, jaws, and tongues of the night. The jacket, though, was holding so far and the kevlar underneath had helped cushion some of the more deadly strikes he'd been stupid enough to open himself up for.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Get moving.
And he's off on his feet again.
When: Late night, July 9 into 10th
Where: Sector 9! Random rooftops and/or rundown buildings.
Summary: Jason likes to hang out with the type of people he knows best. With bonus guests!
Warnings: None that I know of? But there may be mentions of death/violence/etc.
Well. Tonight wasn't going well. Showing up on a baseball diamond with no sight of Talia or even anything resembling his hideout was not part of the plan. His cell couldn't reach her either, which was strange. Sure, getting a hold of her was sometimes hit and miss, but not this hit and miss. As he leaned against a brick wall, he took a moment to catch his breath. People were easy to fight, they were predictable, easy to maneuver around if one really wanted to avoid them. Whatever these things were, the vigilante had little experience with. An entire year of training in close combat, weaponry, and the like still left him flat-footed on occasions. This wasn't like fighting some run-of-the-mill dirtbag with some campy outfit and catchline, or even russian gangsters.
As he wiped blood from the side of his face, Jason mentally noted to actually wear the helmet Talia had given him the next time he went out; the domino mask provided little protection from the claws, jaws, and tongues of the night. The jacket, though, was holding so far and the kevlar underneath had helped cushion some of the more deadly strikes he'd been stupid enough to open himself up for.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Get moving.
And he's off on his feet again.