No one to answer to.

[secondrate]

WHO: Jason Todd and OPEN
WHERE: The rooftops in the City, specifics are up to you!
WHEN: Friday, early morning (~2-8 amish?)
WARNINGS: Potential violence, crude language.
SUMMARY: Jason arrives in the City and decides to explore.
FORMAT: Action or paragraphs, whichever you'd prefer! I'll start with action, though.


[Well, this is different. Definitely not Gotham anymore. Looks more like New York. At least, he still has a few things on him. And by a few things, that means his pistols, jacket full of "toys," knife, and helmet, which in itself is quite an arsenal. He remains still for only a matter of moments as he stares around from under his domino mask before he pulls his helmet on and sets off for the roof. Feeling the wind against the leather is far more comfortable than sitting around inside waiting for his neck to heal. Death would have been faster, honestly. Even now, with bandages wrapped tightly underneath kevlar, he can feel skin pulling and straining. Yet, he ignores that pain and lands on the lip of the nearest building.

With the extra height, he can now see that it's neither Gotham nor New York, but some strange city that makes deja vu kick him in the side of the head. Still, it's unfamiliar enough to throw him.

What the hell is this?

Propping one leg up on the stone, he glances around for something he can latch onto, something to guide the building blocks of what could be a new life in a new city.]

Comments

[slingshots]

[ Disoriented. From the Porter bringing him back? Maybe. He hadn't been last time.

He also didn't wear the helmet much, last time.

She stops short suddenly, eyes widening behind those oversized shades. She could kick herself for not having thought of this, never having considered it. She's never had it happen to her so far, but -- she knows it's possible. Make friends with someone, lose them to the Porter, then have the Porter offer you up a brand new one. A fresh copy. Just 19.99, memories not included.

Very carefully: ] Do you know my name?

[secondrate]

[Jason hesitates in answering, taking in her expession. He knows what it feels like to be forgotten, brushed under the rug and left to rot, and despite his best efforts, he simply doesn't know her. If he was here before, he doesn't remember one bit of it and, while a very small part feels bad for Carrie, a much larger part feels angry that he's lost some information somewhere along the way.

Still, she still earns an honest answer:] No.

[slingshots]

[ She's never been very good at hiding her emotions, when it gets down to it. Not in front of the important people, the ones that really matter. So she doesn't think anything of it when her shoulders sag, her eyes drop to the ground. For a second she doesn't say anything, but when she can speak again it's without any of the cheery confidence of just a few moments ago. Dull. ]

Well, welcome to the City, anyway.

[secondrate]

[Jason lets the brief bout of sympathy to her reaction thrive for a moment before he effectively kills it in his chest. For all he knows, this could be an act to get under his skin. He pauses only briefly before reaching up to remove his helmet, as she does already know him and the fact that if she pulls anything funny, he can detonate it. Marking his face are the dark splotches of bruises that disappear underneath the domino mask, especially his still-healing nose. Bruce broke it in their last fight.]

You going to tell me your name?

[slingshots]

[ She glances up, instinctively, and the sight of the bruises pulls it from a sidelong glance to a full look, even tinged around the edges by concern. What'd happened?

Well, no, stupid question. In this line of work, what doesn't happen. He just must have been pulled in right after a fight. And, of course, he's Jason, so he'll be fine.

After a second or two of study: ] Carrie Kelley. Robin from 2030, in the universe where the boss retired after you.

[secondrate]

[When he sees the concern in her look, Jason is sorely tempted to roll his eyes. They're secondary to the numerous injuries he's acquired over his lifetime. Still, a Robin from an alternate universe is something he hasn't encountered before.]

Guess he didn't if you're Robin.

[Nice to know Bruces are the same everywhere.]

[slingshots]

He did for ten years, anyway. Only came back 'cuz Gotham needed him so bad.

[ She watches him for a few seconds more, obviously more interested in him than her explanation. Finally there's a sigh, and she glances away again. ]

Figure you're probably gonna run into loads of people what knew you last time. That'll be fun.

[secondrate]

Yeah? Care to clue me in? I'm not a big fan of surprises.

[At least she'll be useful in some small way, he supposes. He'll get a better feel for who might be gunning for him.]

[slingshots]

[ There's a pause, and her cool act cracks just a little tiny bit more at that. Does she really have to? Can she say no? Reminding him of all the people he should know -- that just sounds painful. Cementing in the fact that this Isn't Her Jason.

But then on the other hand, emotional and whiny is definitely not the first impression she wants to make for this blank slate. She takes a breath and keeps her eyes on the ground. ]

Danny Rand, Iron Fist. Started School of Thunder, the dojo. Figure he was about your best friend here, only he's gone, so, maybe that one doesn't matter so much. He was close to Nill-- little mute blonde girl with wings-- so by extension so were you. She's here. Thomas Blake, Catman. You're good with him. We went to South America with him. Zatanna likes to try and help. Don't figure that usually goes too good. Miho. Short, Asian, real good fighter. You were dating her, sometimes, I think. Um... you ignored the Bats, mostly. 'Cept for me.

[ A pause, and she wonders if she should summarize their own relationship in a brusque one or two sentences. But that seems a little more painful than she can do, so she leaves it at that, shrugs, and glances over. ]

No one actively trying to kill you, imPorts-wise. Figure that's probably pretty good news.

[secondrate]

[Jason is surprised when she simply starts telling him. There must be a lot of trust that she had in the other Jason if she's giving him all this information for free. That's quite the number of allies he had and the vigilante considers just how he'd at least faked it to that many people when there were Bats flying around everywhere. On top of that, there's the issue of a civilian identity that he'd forsaken for years. Would all these people automatically know him as soon as he shows his face?

That doesn't sound all that comforting. Even if no one is wanting his head on a pike.]

You're special. [He's continuing to dig, to get answers from her in some way. What would make her different from the other Bats that he definitely has little fondness for.]

[slingshots]

[ That glance turns into a stare, closed off and unreadable, because the hurt is starting to subside to a base level, something she can get used to. Like when Jason first 'ported out, and she'd had about a week to search the city and reassure herself that yes, he really was gone, and no, there was nothing she could do about it.

It might be a while before she can actually smile at him, though. ]

You wanna know anything else?

[secondrate]

[Jason keeps his bruised eyes focused on her, reading her like an open book. She wears her emotions so clearly on her sleeve and a very small part of him feels bad for taking advantage of that. The help has been invaluable, truly, and he wants to show thanks in some small way; he needs to rebuild his list of allies.

So, he slowly reaches out and attempts to pat her shoulder, even if it's a little awkward from his end. He's not the type to do this comforting thing.]

Nah. Thanks CK. [He hopes that at least a nickname could help.]

[slingshots]

[ ...Oh. She wishes he hadn't done that. She wishes he'd stayed aloof and impersonal. As bad as that was, this is worse. Her freshly paved-over emotions crack through yet again, and it's entirely against her will that one gloved hand rises to rest lightly on his wrist. ]

If you... need anything else, just ask. Info, safe houses, whatever. [ a pause, and she knows she really really should just be walking away. ] I really liked you, so... [ "So I'll be a useful resource, and you may as well take advantage." Because she's sad, not stupid. ]

[secondrate]

[With a squeeze of her shoulder, Jason withdrew, both physically and emotionally from Carrie. He couldn't let himself get distracted or mixed up in the affairs of others, bur he could use her if he needed her. Still, he would need to show up every now and then, provide small incentives here and there to bring her completely back.]

You busy right now?

[slingshots]

[ That's better. She can even start hesitantly stowing those stupid emotions again, maybe even try a jaunty shrug. ]

Just patrolling in a city where about two dozen other capes got it handled. Why?

[secondrate]

[Jason smirked a little bit at her, glad that she seemed to be feeling a little better, even if the sentiment was perhaps a little ingenuine.]

I need to learn the lay of the land and it looks like you have some skills.

[slingshots]

Naturally.

[ Yes--this, she can definitely do. Bundle away the sad, think about it later if she absolutely has to, and focus on the job. She's probably already blown the 'cool and not-emotional' part of this introduction, but hopefully she can earn points for badass. It was, after all, Jason's suggestion that led her to seek out so many trainers and fighting styles. She has to have learned something from the lot of them. ]

Let's go. [ And she's darting for the edge of the roof before checking to see whether or not he agrees.

[secondrate]

[Jason grins minutely, especially when she seems enthusiastic to just to be patrolling with him. Following her over to the edge, he prepares his jump line before simply diving over the edge of the building as if there were no risk involved. It's freeing, really, to feel the wind rush past his ears, the adrenaline that shoots through his body. For him, time slows and every sensation pricks his skin as the line tightens around his gloved hands and gravity makes one last reach for him.

In a graceful arc, he swings up toward the next roof. It's like riding a bike, really.]