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

[batmantled.livejournal.com]

[ Maybe in all those nights he's spent thinking - agonizing - over this again and again this scenario occurred to him once or twice. That by the time he got close enough to see the spark again he'd be too late. Too slow.

Blocking that first strike feels like moving in slow motion. He twists a little and aims instead at using the forward motion to throw him. Pin him. Get that knife out of his hand. ]

[secondrate]

[Jason goes right over Dick's shoulder, feeling stupid for having rushed at this... this stranger. He lands hard on his side, but focuses on getting to his feet again, knife clenched tight still in his hand.]

Impostor.

[batmantled.livejournal.com]

[ And he should be pressing the advantage. Pushing that edge and ending this before it has to turn bloody. Instead he's holding the stance where he is, watching Jason pick himself back up. Something's not right here. ]

Yeah, that schtick's getting a little old.

[secondrate]

[Old? Jason is tempted to lose his temper again. The world seems to constantly be changing and just when the vigilante thought he had a good hold of it, things slide out from underneath him, the old world order no longer as concrete.]

But I do love stating the obvious. [He'd rather roll with the punches than be knocked on his ass any day.] You don't deserve the cape.

[He still doesn't know who's wearing the cowl, but it doesn't matter. He leaps again for Batman.]

[batmantled.livejournal.com]

[ It's finally beginning to occur to him that there really is no way to win this on the defensive. Yet still he's moving a little slower than he might have otherwise.]

Yeah, we've been over this. And over this. [-and dropping the affectation:] Guess I gotta give props to the big guy where it's due.

[secondrate]

[Jason notes the fact that whoever it is expects the vigilante to know who he is. Something weird's going on. Something very weird. So, he steps back, attempting to feint away from attacker.

Hold on, he knows that voice and for the second time that night, he's lucky the helmet hides most of his surprise. It can't be. Bruce gave Dick the cowl?]

Can't say the same.

[batmantled.livejournal.com]

Should've figured. [ When the open space gives him the opportunity he slides out by Jason, moving out of the feint and putting a little more distance between them. Breathing space. ]

...So do I need to start taking guesses or were you gonna clue me in on this 180?

[secondrate]

You gonna pull your head out of your ass?You're not Bruce. You're not Batman.

[Jason uses the space to try and get a better look at the stranger, trying to put two and two together. They know him, and they have to have been close to Bruce in some way. Jason's first guess would be Grayson, as Drake's too short and weak, but the vigilante isn't about to underestimate someone new.]

[batmantled.livejournal.com]

[ And a few of the missing pieces here are starting to fall together. The body language. The words he's using. The way he's being looked at.

It's time for a stab in the dark, so he launches a quick kick towards Jason's side - fast enough that he'll need to block if he wants to avoid taking damage.]

-You don't remember. [his hands are sweating in his gloves.] Do you.

[secondrate]

[Jason's anger ignites at Dick's words and barely blocks the kick, cursing at himself for becoming distracted. A little flat-footed, the vigilante attempts to use the opening to slash at the stranger's chest with his knife, to slice through that symbolic bat symbol, even though he knows it's reinforced.]

Y'know. [Grunt.] I'm really starting to hate hearing that.

[batmantled.livejournal.com]

[ That's one question answered, at least. He can't move fast enough to avoid the knife this time, and he feels the blade slice through a few layers of Kevlar. He's fighting distracted, fighting weak. ]

Then you pick the topic.

[secondrate]

[Jason swivels back toward Dick once the knife makes contact and forces the knife toward the side of Dick's neck, attempting to slice that cowl off and reveal the face underneath. He has to know.]

How about who the hell you are and what you think you're doing pretending to be the Big Bad Bat.

[batmantled.livejournal.com]

[ and of course it's the cowl he's going for. There's no way he can twist enough to avoid the blow completely, so he lets the mask go and aims a kick at the nearest kidney instead. It's on, now. ]

[secondrate]

[Jason sacrifices the crippling blow to his kidney, trying to just breathe through the pain as the cowl comes off. He's about to celebrate, despite the pain and the fact that he's landing flat on his back, when the recognition dawns almost instantaneously. Grayson. The Dickie-bird. The good son. After everything Jason had done for Gotham, after everything he'd proven to Bruce, Dick was wearing the cowl? No. No.

His rage blazed savagely through his chest as he abandoned the knife for one of his pistols and made an attempt to aim it at his 'brother.' The raw anger seared across his face as he grit his teeth underneath the helmet, gnashed them together.]

[batmantled.livejournal.com]

[no time to think it through this time, he's diving for the gun and throwing his whole weight behind the lunge, aiming at taking him in a bear hug straight down to the roof. If Jason won't pull the punches he can't afford the luxury either. ]

[secondrate]

[The hug took him down to the roof as planned, knocking the pistol from Jason's hands. It skittered across the concrete and for a brief moment, the vigilante was truly pinned.]