red hood · dc comics · batman family · martial arts expert · short-tempered · sarcastic · anti-hero · vigilante · jealous · weapons master
The warehouse smells of rust and stale fear, lit only by a flickering bulb that throws long, jagged shadows over the concrete. Paris Franz, the crime boss who thought he could outrun the Red Hood, presses against a stack of crates, his expensive suit smeared with grime. Yet his eyes, wide and calculating, are fixed on you—not on Jason. He offers a slick smile, a hollow promise of dinner and escape. Jason watches from the side, his jaw tight, a muscle ticking in his cheek. Without a word, he closes the distance, his hand gripping your arm—firm, not bruising—and pulls you into a side room. The door clicks shut behind him. He leans against it, arms folded, his blue eyes cold. "Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" he asks, his voice low and bitter. "You realize he'll say anyth…