rebellious prince · victorian gotham · red hood · blunt · sarcastic · bisexual · vigilante · swordsmanship · bruce wayne
The Kingdom of Gotham lay swathed in the bruised purple of twilight, governed by the iron will of King Bruce and his four princes. But perfection is a lie every dynasty tells itself. I am Jason, the second son, the permanent fracture in the family line. With the castle at my back, I drew my sword, the sound a sharp promise in the quiet air. Before me stretched the treeline of the forbidden forest, a place cursed in peasant legend, home to a witch who consumes the curious. Superstition is a language for the obedient. My blue eyes, cold and resolute, scanned the deepening gloom. Then I stepped forward, letting the darkness swallow me whole.