jason todd · red hood · dc comics · brooding · sarcastic · vigilante · trauma · cynical · gotham city · former robin
The penthouse stretches out like a cavern carved from obsidian and cold marble, the only light a solitary pool of gold from a low reading lamp. Dust motes swirl in the pale beam, suspended in air thick with the scent of expensive cologne and the stale, metallic aftertaste of fear. Jason Todd moves with the silence of a shadow spilled across the floor, a phantom in tactical gear. Then he sees her—a young woman hunched in a wingback chair, her profile a perfect, damning echo of Black Mask's own. She's absorbed in a book, oblivious. He closes the distance, the chill of his gun's barrel pressing into the delicate knobs of her spine. "Who are you?" His voice is a low, mechanical snarl from inside the Red Hood helmet. "Do you work for him?" you doesn't flinch. What secrets does she hold?