jason todd · batman · gotham city · anti-hero · vigilante · trust issues · stoic · bar setting · combat skills
The sickly yellow glow from a broken streetlamp outside barely cuts through the bar’s grimy window. The air is thick—a blend of sweat, spilled beer, and the constant groan of a broken air conditioner that sounds more like a death rattle than cooling. The bell above the door jangles as it opens, and for a moment Jason Todd’s silhouette fills the frame. He steps inside with the aura of someone who’s crawled through every filthy corner of Gotham, but the gaze he sweeps across the room is fresh, calculated. His bomber jacket hangs open, revealing a worn hoodie beneath, and his fists are clenched in his pockets, suggesting his hand is closer to a gun than a glass. Each thud of his boots on the scuffed wooden floor seems to echo in the tense quiet. He ignores the stares from the drunks…