Oh roses and cigarettes
Pillow case that remembers you
the scent of you still lingers on my fingertips
Till I think I might go insane
When will I see you again
Category: Uncategorized
The Fall of the House of Todd | Oner
After the perishable food ran out at the Todd apartment, after the smell of her body had leaked out of the bathroom, permeating to the other rooms, Jason left. He put on the last clean clothes he had (blue jeans, a white t shirt, and a red long sleeved hoodie), packed a bag (peanut butter and a loaf of bread, a blanket, one picture of his mother, from when she was in high school, and a wallet full of money pilfered from the many, many men that Catherine had brought over in the last two years), and was gone before the landlord came knocking.
The first night, he slept in a drainage ditch behind the grocery store. The second, a stoop in midtown. After a week, when the temperature dropped into the low 40’s, he’d convinced a nice lady that he was just lost, thank you, and could I please use your phone? He’d cut the line before he’d knocked, anyway. After that, he moved from neighborhood to neighborhood, perfecting his grift by the fifth house.
All too soon, true winter was upon him. He needed shelter, and soon. No adult would take his money, so he learned to break into cars. He’d use the heater for a night, and leave just after sunrise. This got him through several hard weeks, although not before he was discovered three times (two times, an early commuter; once, an overzealous guard dog). He’d managed to escape, but those neighborhoods were unusable after that.
After five weeks, he met a drug dealer named Johnny Zip, one who didn’t care that he was six years old. Johnny took Jason in, with the caveat that Jason helped him pull off scams and cons. He agreed, if for no other reason than he was hungry and cold. Soon, they moved up to stealing car tires, using Jason as a lookout. Who’d suspect a six year old in a crime, right? In any case, it worked, and Johnny Zip got rich, at least by his standards. Enough to move on, and leave Jason alone again-reinforcing his need for self reliance.
Zip had taught him enough to survive, however, as Jason now knew how to remove tires and steal cars. Soon enough, he found an unscrupulous chop shop that didn’t care where the cars came from, and Jay was in business. He brought them five cars a week, and they let him sleep in the garage, after closing time. The room wasn’t warm, but it wasn’t cold, either. The man who ran the shop didn’t like using a kid, but why should he care what happened to Jason? The kid was useful, that’s it.
Like all good things, however, it came to an end. The garage was raided the second week of spring, and Jason escaped into the night, his jeans tattered, hoodie torn, and wallet still ensconced in his bag, albeit lighter.
Now that it wasn’t winter, he found himself able to sleep on the streets again. With no source of income, he again resorted to pickpocketing and stealing food, having mastered these skills before most children could read. Soon enough, with three weeks until summer, he found himself again working for a stolen parts garage, this one in uptown. Nicer cars here, and nicer people. Many of them left the cars unlocked, even! It almost wasn’t fair.
Jason had grown by now, able to jack up the cars, loosen the bolts, and remove the tires by himself. This too, worked for him, although he demanded a 15% cut for the profits. They gave it to him, mostly because they felt sorry for him.
They shouldn’t have. At seven years old, Jason was stronger, faster, and smarter than any other child his age. When the garage shorted him $250, he tipped off the cops. All fifteen employees were caught, and sentenced. After they had left, he used his (stolen) key to open the office.
Hello, housing.
It was almost the end of fall when Jason ran out of money. He’d known it was coming, planned for it. Again, he was forced to steal cars to live, a decision that did not please him. The first car he took, this time, was a Rolls Royce, a silver model. He was already under the dashboard when a strong hand pulled him out, tossing him against a brick wall. Without thinking, he raised his fists, looking unflinchingly into the eyes of a tall, willowy woman with olive skin. Her expression was not of pity; this alone was why Jason didn’t strike at her.
The woman was Talia al Ghul.
Anger | Deadly Sins Oner
Jason Peter Todd was 6 years old the first time he hurt another human being.
The man was inbetween him and the food he needed to steal to keep his druggie mother alive, and Jason wasn’t going to let a 5’11” old man stop him from helping his mommy. The man, Tom, was a security guard at the corner store, working nights. He always let Jason in by himself, when his mother was on a bender.
This night was different. He didn’t have any money this time. The grocery money had been spent for the last two weeks, courtesy of Ms. Todd. Gone, to satisfy her fix. Jason had been left to fend for himself, as he so often was.
And that brought him to the corner store at half past eleven o’clock on a cool autumn night, penniless and hungry. Tom nodded his head at the approach of the roughshod boy, knowing all too well that he had to shoulder more than any child should.
Beans, bread, milk, turkey slices, and gourmet cheeses-these and more went into his basket. He didn’t have to skimp on the good stuff this time. He knew he was going to steal it. For the first time in his life, Jay picked the name brand products, the things he’d only ever seen, not tasted.
He was barely able to lift the handbasket after he was done. Tom was waiting behind the register, frowning at the child’s payload. “You sure you can pay for this, son?” Dark eyes looked up at him. “I’ve got it, mister.” With that, he was headed towards the door. Tom called after him, unsure how to handle the situation.
Jason took this opportunity to walk through the automatic doors, moving as fast as his small frame could carry him. He heard Tom following after him, knew he’d have to act. Dropping the basket, he swiveled and brought his pocketknife up and around, catching the older man in the thigh. He twisted it around three times before pulling it out, picking up his stolen food before hurrying back to the apartment his mother was two months behind the rent on.
The door swung open on loose hinges.
The smell hit him first. Vomit. Fresh. This wasn’t that unusual; Catherine Todd had overdosed enough times to be in the Guinness World Records book. With a lump in his throat, Jason opened the refrigerator, placing all of the precious foods inside with a loving hand, knowing that it would have to last for a long time.
After the last items were safe in their homes, he went to take care of his mother. She was in the bathtub, naked. Vomit caked her pale skin. A blue tint covered her lips and eyes.
“Mommy, wake up.” Jason shook her shoulder. “Mommy, I got us food. You need to eat. You’re sick again.” She didn’t move.
With a stretch and a jump, Jason grabbed the shower wand, turning the water to hotter than he usually did. He washed her hair and body, rinsing the contents of her stomach off of her mottled skin.
She still didn’t move. “Mommy, you need to get up. You gotta eat, you gotta!” He shook her more violently this time. She felt cold, even after the hot shower.
Jason began to cry.
“Mommy, please, I got you food. I had to hurt Tom, he wasn’t gonna let me go with all the food I got. Mommy, please!”
Tears fell down his small face, splashing on her skin as he held her. She wasn’t breathing.
He knew not to call the ambulance. He had done that when he was four, and she had yelled at him for it. “Too expensive,” she had said. “You can’t trust the hospital, Jason. They’re greedy whores. You gotta trust Mommy to take care of herself when she’s sick.”
He shook her one last time, knowing that she wasn’t going to wake up this time.
“Mommy, I’m sorry I couldn’t take better care of you. I love you, Mommy.”
He stood, his eyes red with tears. Walking to the kitchen, he forced himself to eat, though he wasn’t hungry. As he ate, a new emotion filled his young heart.
Anger.
Anger that he couldn’t save his mother.
Anger that he couldn’t keep Tom from getting hurt.
Anger that he was unable to control what happened to him after this.
Anger that he was too weak to make a difference.
He promised himself that he’d never fail again. That’d he grow up big and strong, and make sure that none of the nasty pill men that his mommy always had around would ever bother people again.
He cried his last tears that night, alone on the kitchen floor.
The next morning, he wrapped his mommy on her favorite blanket, and shut the door. He knew he’d have to stay at the apartment until the nasty landman came to collect rent. He could live off the food he’d stolen for a week or so. Then, he’d have to leave.
He didn’t know where this new feeling would take him. All Jason knew was that he’d never, ever be vulnerable again.
Lazarus | GCS Origins Oner
A ten year old Jason Todd stood, hands clasped firmly behind his back, facing Ra’s Al Ghul. “Yes sir. I understand.”
The man nodded curtly. “You will be on this assignment on your own, no help. Failure is not an option. If you are to succeed, it will be your last test before attaining the highest rank in the League of Shadows, the youngest to ever achieve such a feat. However,” He turned, facing the boy. “This does not mean you are special. Arrogance will get you nowhere in this organization.”
“Yes sir.”
“Go then. The task begins at dawn.”
The boy turned and practically ran towards his quarters, an enormous smile upon his face. “This is the best day of my life!”, he yelled, punching the air.
Ra’s sat for a moment, clearly worried about the boy’s safety. He looked down at the file on the desk, the words Red Hood Gang in neat block print across the top. He reread the description for the hundredth time. “The Red Hood gang. Thought to be the leader of the gang, Red Hood One is a master criminal, and incredibly violent. Known for his domed red helmet and crimson cape. Wanted in every country in North and South America. He is considered armed, dangerous, and utmost caution is advised.” Ra’s kneaded his temple. “Good luck, Jason.”
The boy packed his gear, preparing for his task. It was customary in the League, sending acolytes after high profile criminals. Once they completed the kill, they would become fully fledged members of the League, arbiters of justice in a world of corruption. The boy smiled as he slid his sword into its sheath, cinching the belt tight around his waist. He pulled his gloves on, doing a last minute check to make sure all his items were carefully packed. He grabbed his black hood, stowing it in a pocket before grabbing his bag, rushing towards the main hall of the temple. Ra’s nodded once at his arrival, handing him a set of coordinates and $10,000 in American dollars. After bowing, Jason was off, not noticing the GPS transponder that had been slipped into his bag.
The trek across the mountain was dangerous, even for a ten year old master assassin. He had grown up on this mountain, and after the first half dozen falls into the icy depths, he had learned to appreciate his footing. He made his way down the frozen slope slowly, but confidently. He reached the bottom of the slope by nightfall, and made his camp in a small cave near the frozen lake. The next morning, he found a merchant willing to take him to the largest surrounding village, letting him off at the small harbor there. Jason grinned. “One step closer, Jason.” He stowed his weapons in his bag, and cash in hand, looked for a boat to America.
The cargo ship he bribed passage onto was harsh, and more than one man made the mistake of bullying the small child. After Jason had broken three crewman’s various bones, the captain set him up in private quarters, more for the safety of the crew than Jason’s own. He preferred the silence; but he appreciated the time he got to spend with the captain. He learned to pilot the vessel, and he was almost disappointed when the ship docked, leaving him in Brazil. He set off to find an airport. Destination: Gotham City. Thousands of miles away, Ra’s Al Ghul watched a small computer monitor, a red signal pulsing slightly at the boy’s location. It had been five weeks since Jason left the temple.
The private plane that Jason had managed to locate took him to an airstrip approximately fifty miles outside of Gotham City. He paid the man the promised $1000, and began heading on foot to the last known location of the Red Hood. At a rest stop, he snuck onto an 18-wheeler, disembarking near the waterfront section of Gotham. He found himself with a base of operations, an old warehouse near the docks. He stashed his gear, taking only the surveillance equipment necessary to find his prey. Tracking down the villain would be difficult; but there was no time limit on his task. He used as little of the money as he could, using $20 and $50 dollar bills to get what small information he could, posing as everything from the Hood’s long lost son to a child of the Mob.
After two weeks of intense legwork, he finally had a location: LaffCo Toy Factory. It was long shut down, but all leads pointed to this being the Red Hood’s headquarters. He moved his gear to an abandoned apartment complex a few blocks away, and waited. Jason haggled a telescope from a local hobby shop down to a few hundred bucks, leaving him with well over $5000 still remaining for his assignment. Once he had it trained on the factory, he marked any activity around the building, who came and who left, at what times, and what they were doing. After four grueling days of constant observation, he finally allowed himself a break, falling asleep on a ragged mattress he had stolen from next to a dumpster. It had been two months since beginning his mission.
The day had come to finally make his move. He laid his gear out, finding for the first time the transponder. He grinned. “So Ra’s does care.” He clipped it to his belt, pressing the small button on it to alert the League he was mounting his attack.
He dressed in his usual garments; black pants, brown utility belt, a black tunic, and his hooded mask. The boots were laced up to his calf, and he tucked his favorite knife into the sheath there. He remembered the nickname he had been given by the older boys: Shadow. They called him this due to his innate ability to sneak up on anyone; he had more than once even surprised Ra’s himself. Jason shook his head, clearing his mind of anything but the task at hand. He chose to use his hanbo staff instead of his sword, citing that the staff would be better suited for defense as well as offense. He filled the pouches in the belt with the standard gear; explosive decoys, small balls that emitted thick smoke upon impact, and several other such diversions. The next item was a personal favorite of Jason’s: a retractable two foot length of titanium cord, wrapped in a carbon fiber and silicone weave. It was an excellent tool for disarming and strangling. He strapped it onto his wrist. The last item he selected was a bandolier of small, lightweight knives, shaped like small hawks. He picked one out, flicking his wrist to send it flying across the room, pinning a moth against the wall. He pulled it out, the moth falling lifeless to the dusty floor. He stuck the shadowrang, as he had labeled them, back into the bandolier, buckling it across his chest.
He did a final check, making sure all his gear and weapons were in order, before descending the fire escape, dropping noiselessly to the ground. The night sky was cloudy, moonless. The streets were dark, the wind idly moving the leaves and trash in an aimless voyage. Jason Todd smiled, hidden under the hood. “Time for glory, Shadow.”
The factory had one significant defensive flaw: the warehouse that adjoined it had open ceiling vents, making it a simple task for Jason to enter unannounced. He perched in a metal rafter, silent as the shadows around him. Watched as the murderer waltzed in, muffled whistling coming from under the dome he wore over his face. He took in every detail of the hideout, from the massive jack in the box, clearly meant for an old advertisement campaign, its face now painted in an exaggerated clown’s face, the red lips extending to the cheekbones, the hair a shocking green. He grimaced. After he had mapped his descent from the beam, he took a deep breath, locating his chi, as the League had trained him to do.
After a few minutes, the sound of a door slamming, along with the voice of the Hood, roused him from his meditation. He opened his eyes. Red Hood One stood, seemingly unaware of his diminutive assassin, almost directly underneath Jason. With a last steadying breath, Shadow dropped, free falling the thirty feet to land squarely on his target. He somersaulted off of the man, landing in a three point stance, hanbo held firmly. The crimson domed man laughed, an eerie, unsettling action that chilled Jason to his very soul.
He suppressed a shudder, leaping into action. The staff was a web of oak, both ends of the staff leaving substantial bruises where they landed. Still, the laughter continued. The boy backed away, circling the man.
“Come on, Kid! It that all you got?”
Scowling, Jason vaulted towards his antagonizer, a cry of anger escaping his lips. He never saw the crowbar the man held, swinging upwards, connecting against Jason’s ribcage. The blow knocked the wind out of him, and he collapsed onto one knee. The Hood cackled, dancing around the assassin, raining blows down on him.
“Thought you were a match for me, did you?” Jason lay on the ground, bleeding and wheezing. “Well you should have practiced harder, ninja boy!” He unbuckled his cape, tossing it aside. “It’s been a pleasure, though!” The crowbar came flying down, striking Jason on the forehead. The last thing the boy saw was a red gleam, drawing closer and closer to his face before he passed out. His last thought was of his mother, and how he too, would die in Gotham. The man never stopped hitting him. Cruel steel connected with soft tissue again and again, bending and snapping bones long after the body was dead.
As the blows continue to rain down on the lifeless boy, the door opens with a bang. A tall, elegantly dressed man enters the room, sword drawn. “Step away from the boy”, his voice says. “Leave now, or perish.” The domed figure hesitates for a split second, then charges the taller man. Before he can get close, the tall man flicks his blade outward, sending the crowbar skittering across the rough floor. The accented voice rolls out again.“Leave.” This time, the voice is obeyed, and metal boots echo loudly as their owner flees the scene.
The tall man gently lifts the child’s body off of the floor, sweeping blood and hair away from his face. With a delicate hold, he carries the boy away, placing him on a litter with care. The litter is placed in the back of a Rolls Royce, and the man gets into the driver’s seat. After a short drive, they arrive at the private airport hangar, and soon, they depart.
Deep underground, Ra’s al Ghul is feverishly preparing a Lazarus Pit. Mysterious ingredients, added to a bubbling pool of green liquid, hiss and pop as they take effect. The boy, his body washed and naked, is on a small bed next to the Pit. White Ghost and Talia al Ghul are standing on either side of Ra’s, both looking apprehensive. This is the first time an outsider has been allowed to use the Pits since their discovery over two thousand years ago.
Ra’s has finished his preparations. As he lifts the boy, Talia leans in and kisses him on the forehead, her olive skin dark against the lifeless alabaster of Jason Todd. Her father, nearly prostrate, lowers the child into the bubbling liquid. With agonizing slowness, the body sinks to the bottom of the pool.
The minutes pass slowly. White Ghost, adamant that the Pits remain exclusive use of the al Ghul’s, grins in triumph. Tears streak Talia’s face. Ra’s remains stoic, watching for the slightest sign of life.
It has been thirty minutes. Talia has her head on her father’s shoulder, her arms wrapped around his bicep. She is no longer holding back her sorrow. Dusan speaks up. “It is not an exact science, Sensei. Perhaps you have overestimated the powers you have for so long controlled.” Ra’s does not answer, save for a scowl that silences the younger man.
At the bottom of the pool, the boy shudders, then thrashes. Talia lifts her head, her mouth open in wonder as the body jerks on the pool floor. Dusan is visibly upset. Ra’s bends down on one knee, peering into the depths as the boy continues to writhe, submerged. Talia falls to her knees. The boy begins to make his way, with difficulty, to the surface.
His head breaks the surface, and Ra’s has his hand around the boy’s upper arm like a vicegrip. Lifting him up, he ignores the boy’s blows that bounce off of his chest and head. The al Ghuls are familiar with this process now; Pit madness. The boy’s eyes are still closed, and his mouth struggles to form screams of protest as he is hauled through a hallway towards his new quarters.
The door is opened, and Ra’s places the boy inside. His eyes, still shut, leak tears. Dusan lingers, still offended. Talia alone enters with the boy, attempting to calm the madness inside him. He does not strike her. She soothes him, cradles his young form. Clothes him. Ra’s watches from a window outside, his expression unreadable. Talia does not shift her gaze from the child. Hours pass. She waits.
His eyes snap open. They are violently blue, and appear to burn with an energy not of his own. There is no recognition in them. Talia looks at her father, and he nods.
Jason Todd is alive once more.
New Faces | Zero Year Flashback | Red Hood and Batgirl
To say Barbara was hesitant was the understatement of the year. Follow him? This is a bad idea, Babs. Before she could second or third guess his motives though, she was turning on heel, nodding, and running after him. This was naive. Idiotic. She should have been heading in the opposite direction, but instead she was running after a man she only knew as possibly a very violent sociopath.
This was one of the stupidest things she had ever done.
Even so, there was a rush. Barbara was running on pure adrenaline as she bounded after him, weaving in and out of alleyways and then up to a building she was unfamiliar with. He gestured for her to go ahead of him and there was the fleeting feeling deep in her gut that this was bad, but her feet keep propelling her forward. Eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed together in a scowl, but she wasn’t stopping.
“Now all we have to do is wait for them to move on, and get our bikes and split up. Are you hungry?"
Barbara didn’t register his question. Instead, she canted her head to the side, puzzled. Hungry? No, she was definitely not hungry. In fact, just a fleeting ten minutes ago she was sure she was going to throw up all over this guy’s shoes. She swallowed hard, knowing her apprehension was obvious. No, she did not want what ever poisoned food he was going to try to get her to ingest. Crossing her arms over her chest, she shook her head.
What happened next was completely out of left field. A man opened the door and looked…happy to see the hood? Happy? That couldn’t be right. Barbara inched forward just a little closer to see if she could read his face better. This man was definitely happy to see the hood. She was flabbergasted. Her vision narrowed and her jaw slacked. “Were you just speaking Mandarin? Wait, of course you were.” Barbara threw up her hands in exasperation and turned around. What the hell was going on? Who was this guy? “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Shaking her head, she walked to the edge of the building and rubbed her temples. This had to be the weirdest night she’d had in a long time.
Batgirl blushed furiously, then stumbled through a response. Jay turned back to the man-Chan Yan Tak was his name-and ran through a small list of food. With a last nod and a smile, Chan turned back inside, letting the door slam shut. Jason crossed the alleyway, leaning against a brick wall some six feet from Batgirl, who still looked adorable. No, confused. Adorably confused.
"Should be out in a few minutes.” He looked over her again, reading her body language like a book. She was nervous. Scared, and definitely out of her element. She wasn’t gonna trust him, not immediately. He sighed. “Wanna hear a story, Batsie?”
People die. This is the fact the world desperately hides from us from birth. Long after you find out the truth about sex and Santa Claus, this other myth endures, this one about how you’ll always get rescued at the last second and if not, your death will at least mean something and there’ll be somebody there to hold your hand and cry over you. All of society is built to prop up that lie, the whole world a big, noisy puppet show meant to distract us from the fact that at the end, you’ll die, and you’ll probably be alone.
David Wong, John Dies at the End (via xsarahx)
New Faces | Zero Year Flashback | Red Hood and Batgirl
Curiously, she watched as he swung the steel blade. He seemed more like a gun person than a sword person. Shrugging up her shoulders, she shook her head in confusion. This man was a complete mystery, but Barbara loved a challenge.
He had to have an angle, had to have a reason. This Red Hood had a reputation. He was brutal, violent. Yet he had helped her out of a tough spot, laughed at her, and hadn’t tried to kill her after she pushed him off a building. So either he had an ulterior motive for helping her or the media portrayal was horribly skewed.
Maybe this was one puzzle she couldn’t crack.
Barbara pursed her lips together in frustration as she followed him toward the exit, her mind spinning with questions that would likely never receive answers. Even if he had helped her, she had to keep her guard up. Rescue or not, he was a stranger and trust was hard earned.
Princess. Barbara scowled, shaking her head as she stepped through the alley door. “I’m definitely not a princess.” Once in the passageway, Barbara snapped her head left and right, satisfied that the area was clear, she waved him over. “Look, I appreciate the help, Darth, but I think I might be able to safely make it back to my bike.” Just a moment after she spoke, the sound of a helicopter rotor interrupted her. Looking up, she spied one of the GCPD’s Bell helicopters buzzing overhead. Letting out a heavy sigh, arms crossed over her chest.
“Want to give me a lift?”
The helicopters were close, and by the looks of it, angry. High powered spotlights raked the streets, and the whine of sirens echoed oddly off the dark alleyways. Jason turned to Batgirl.
“We’ll never make it in this mess.” He gestured without looking at the choppers. “I have an idea, though. Follow me?” Breaking into a jog, he ran south, following the alley for several buildings. Grabbing hold of a fire escape on High Street, he pulled himself up, extending a hand for Batgirl to do the same. After nearly twelve stories of careful climbing, they reached a walkway that stretched over 14th.
“After you?” He held out a hand, ignoring the scowl she gave him as she swept past his outstretched arm. Across and down they went, coming out just a short walk from Perl Street. The sirens and lights were far away from them now; their detour had shaken them. “Now all we have to do is wait for them to move on, and get our bikes and split up. Are you hungry?” She stared at him. He repeated his question, slower this time. “Are. You. Hungry?” Still nothing. He sighed, crossing the alley to knock on a decrepit looking metal door.
Forty seconds later, a portly Asian man emerged, looking tentative. Upon seeing the Red Hood leaning against his doorway, he smiled broadly, jabbering enthusiastically in Mandarin Chinese. Jason replied likewise, gesturing at Batgirl. The man nodded furiously, then yelled something at the open door. “Hey. Batsie. Order up. My treat.” He grinned under his helmet, knowing how this had to be freaking her out.
New Faces | Zero Year Flashback | Red Hood and Batgirl
If she could have rolled her eyes harder, she would have. “Have you actually seen Star Wars, Hood? Bad reference. Poor form.” She shook her head back and forth with mock disappointment. Barbara slowed her pace as they reached the end of the walkway. Looking left and right, she turned back to her companion, arms crossed over her chest. All she wanted to do was get out of this building, get back to her bike, and forget this night ever happened. It had been a disaster from start to finish and more than that, she was frustrated with herself. Everything had been an elaborate string of rookie mistakes. Slip-ups that should have never happened.
When the Red Hood had turned away from her, just slightly, Barbara saw her chance and took it. Without a second thought, she approached him and with one swift movement her leg was up and pushing him up and over the ledge. There was a split second of remorse, one moment of regret before she reminded herself not only would he be fine – he deserved it. Peeking over the edge, Barbara smirked before somersaulting off, looking like a cross between a ballerina and an Olympic diver. Her descent was tight and it wasn’t until the last moment that she slowed herself, landing like a feather on the ground below.
Waltzing over casually, Barbara rapped on his helmet with her knuckles. “First rule to becoming a Jedi Knight, young Padawan, never piss off the redhead.” Her lips upturned into a taut smile before she spun around to take in their environment. The air was thick and humid to accommodate the abundant plant life surrounding them. It was breathtaking. Like being somewhere tropical, somewhere far from Gotham.
The echo of police footsteps had stopped minutes ago and she took that as a good sign. Inhaling deeply, she relaxed her posture. It looked like they maybe, just maybe, they would be able to make a clean getaway. That was all she could hope for, that and the retreat of Gotham’s finest; she really didn’t want to fight with the police. In fact, she was almost positive she recognized at least one out of the group of uniforms that had been chasing them.
Awkward.
Crouching down, Barbara slid a gloved finger over the waxy, two toned leaves of a clump of bromeliads. This little oasis reminded her of the botanical garden back in Cleveland. Once a month she used to cut out of her archive class early and hang out there. Her favorite exhibit had always been the tropical greenhouse with the giant Amazon waterlillies. She would find a neighboring bench, spread out her books, study among the silence of the flora, trying to imagine the fantastic adventures in other countries that surely she would have one day.
Barbara’s smile bowed, forming a small frown at the memory. She had hoped to be a million miles away by now, in some other country with some other life. Instead, she was here. Barbara just hoped all this sacrifice would amount to something, that it would mean something. Someday.
He followed her to the ground, landing as easily as she had. Before he looked up from his three point landing, she knocked on his helmet, making her another Star Wars reference. He rolled his eyes. Unsheathing his sword from the scabbard on his back, he stepped past her, cutting through a particularly thick tangle of vines and ivy. The cold metal cut clean through it, opening up a clearing from which the pair could see the vast expanse of green surrounding them.
It only then dawned on Jason where their mad dash had taken them; they were in the Monte Carlo casino, a renovation project that had been weeks away from completion before the owner had been found missing. No one had purchased the lot, and so it had sat for almost a year now. Apparently, ground floor security was much tighter than upper level stuff. The interior was plush, decorated for a crowd that had more money than sense, and it showed. Gold inlay, red carpet, and elaborate columns supported the walls.
Jason located the rear exit, and motioned for Batgirl to follow him. “So, Batsie. If you’re such a wise Jedi Master, where’s your blade? I don’t see one, and everyone knows that a real Jedi has a sword.” He stopped, turning his head to cut off her immediate reply. “And yes, I know it’s not a lightsaber. Shut it.” With a hard kick, he forced the alley door open, breaking the chain that held it shut. “After you, Princess.”
Off to See the Wizard | Blackout | Cass and Jay
Cass was very impressed with the way the warden stood his ground as he yelled, red in the face, at the Red Hood while said vigilante looked like he was about to splinter the handle of the hammer he was holding. Where Jason got the hammer was beyond her but what was more unsettling was what Jason could do with that hammer and how that thought hadn’t crossed the warden’s mind as he yelled at Jason for the mistreatment of his inmates. She knew that she should be more concerned with exactly what had transpired here that had the warden is such a tissy but Jason had a point -the last thing the city needed at the moment was a hoard of escaped criminals and that was something everyone knew from experience. And even as she watched the diver submerge himself once again to continue looking looking for a body, Cass decidedly keptthat thought in mind.
But even in their present predicament, Cass truly was glad to see Jason again and was happy to see the feeling returned in the affectionate tone he used for his nickname for her. “Couldn’t keep away. Not with…” trailing off, Cass simply waved her hand knowing he would understand that with all this mayhem there was no way any of them would have stayed put. And from his next words, she was right. Because as much as Jason tried to stay away, Cass knew he still cared -for the welfare of the people and their survival. And even past old allegiances and shared memories, this was the reason Cass felt comfortable around him even with all her misgivings about killing. He fought a purpose, he fought to help, and for Cass, that was enough.
Scrunching her nose at the thought of having to fight the slow moving, sickle wielding, one-armed villain, Cass shook her head, glad at having missed that. Although at the mention of the once conjoined twin, Cass suddenly became aware of whose hammer Jason was holding. But just as she was about to ask what had happened to Mister Hammer, she was distracted by the overwhelming beauty that was Starfire. Cass had never seen her in person, she had only heard stories of her from the days when the Outlaws still sported three members. Curious as to Jason’s vague description, Cass gasped as she saw the pink flame shimmer in Starfire’s hand.
Eyes flicking back to Jason as the spark disappeared, Cass smiled at his words. Don’t fuck with this one, indeed. But even as she continued to eye Starfire in curiosity, she was snapped back to attention at the mention of Jason’s brother.
Dick. She remembered the boy. Shaking her head, she wondered what could have possessed him to go out during the blackout, although she was glad to hear that he was no longer in the Narrows -there weren’t many worse places to be and hopefully this meant he was bunkered down somewhere safely.
“Wouldn’t say no. Not to Dick. And not to you.” Although Cass wasn’t entirely sure having them work together was a good idea. Just thinking of the last time those two were in the same room together was already giving her a headache and Cass knew that if they would get nothing accomplished if they went down that road again.
“Comms are back up. But you don’t want Bruce’s help. He’s not manning network.” Cass was well aware that this wasn’t a very good idea and that she’d probably be having words with several people later but if there was one person who could help them right now, it would be him.
“You should meet my friend.”
He was glad to see the short assassin, especially in these dire circumstances. She was the only other member of the League of Assassins that operated in Gotham, regardless of her new moral stance. She wasn’t just a friend, she was family. He resisted a fleeting urge to give her a hug, instead making the hand sign the young acolytes had used to describe Ra’s behind his back-a fist, pinky and index finger raised.
Red Hood nodded when she mentioned her friend, slightly relieved that Bruce wasn’t going to be at the Cave. The last time Jay had seen him, they’d nearly killed each other, and probably would have had Cass not intervened. He’d made the young assassin a foolish offer too, one that she hadn’t accepted. To join him, assassin to assassin, and become an Outlaw. She’d declined with all the grace she could, and Jason hadn’t held a grudge.
But now, this was a mystery. Someone other than Bruce running the Cave? How many Bats were there now? Man, Girl, Woman, Black, Beyond, and now a sixth one? Jesus Christ. He supposed it could be the old man, the one who had referred to Bruce as Master Wayne, but that seemed unlikely. He hadn’t picked up that vibe from him, brief as their contact had been.
“So, the Cave?” He slung the hammer onto his shoulder. Next to him, Kory tensed, although he doubted anyone but Cass or himself would have noticed. She didn’t like Batman; his approach had always come across as sanctimonious to her. Jay cocked his head slightly at her, and she shook her head. He swiveled back to face Cass. “She’ll be fine. She’s not a fan of…him.” Turning on his heel, he strode past the still angry warden, pulling himself up into the cockpit of the two bladed machine. Kory took the copilot’s seat, and Jason opened the hatch to allow Cass in.
“Buckle up. This thing is fast."
With a roar, it lifted into the air, banking west as they headed to the Palisades.
and all of this will never be the same again 