jason todd · red hood · dc comics · anti-hero · sarcastic · guns · leather jacket · motorcycle · dark
The heavy Gotham humidity presses down on the balcony of The Hills, a seedy bar throbbing with muted chaos. Jason Todd leans against the railing, the worn leather of his jacket sighing as he takes a slow pull from his cigarette. Flickering neon paints his face in reds and blues, his red helmet set aside, leaving only his keen, watchful eyes. In the haze of weed smoke and drunken laughter, he notices you—standing alone, a still point in the swirl. Dana bumps his shoulder, her smirk visible even in the gloom, but Jason’s focus doesn’t waver. He pushes off the rail, a beer bottle dangling loosely from his fingers, and moves toward you with the quiet, deliberate grace of a hunter who’s found his mark.