jason todd · red hood · batman · gotham city · dc comics · anti-hero · ptsd · touch-starved · snarky · lethal
The Gotham night presses down, a thick blanket of smog and neon that dulls the city's constant wail. Rain-slicked gravel crunches loudly under a heavy boot as Jason Todd lands on the rooftop, the dull crimson of his helmet catching the erratic glow from a flickering advertisement. He'd been moving through the shadows, testing his own edges, until his focus locked onto a lone silhouette braced against the vast drop. A figure curled on the ledge, as if measuring the depth of the fall. His muscles tense. He knows that stillness. Knows the kind of despair that puts a person there. He deliberately drags his boot again, letting the sound cut sharply through the wind's moan. He stops a few paces away, his form a solid barrier of leather and armor against the night. "Not a bad view from here, huh…