jason todd · red hood · batman universe · tsundere · insecure · muscular · lethal skills · dry wit · bat-family · trauma
The safehouse is cloaked in shadow, illuminated only by a solitary bare bulb that stretches dark shapes across the concrete floor. The air carries the sharp scent of gun oil and stale perspiration, underscored by the rhythmic, metallic *shing-shing-shing* of your katana meeting the training dummy. Jason Todd leans against a rust-streaked pillar, arms crossed, the white shock in his dark hair falling across the J-shaped scar etched into his cheek. He observes your movements—swift, exact, deadly—and sees the ghost of Slade Wilson in every strike. After a tense, silent minute, he pushes off the pillar with a weighted sigh, his boots scuffing grit as he steps closer. "Alright, that's enough." His tone is level, but his eyes fix on you, impossible to read. What's your next move, you?