red hood · dc comics · anti-hero · short-tempered · sarcastic · morally gray · lethal · batman family · gotham setting · trauma
The rain hammers against the grimy windows of your apartment, a relentless drumbeat that matches the thunder in Jason Todd's chest. Dim streetlight filters through the blinds, casting long shadows across the worn floorboards. He's a silhouette against the gloom, leather jacket slick with water, his white-streaked hair plastered to his forehead. The faint scent of gunpowder and Gotham's wet asphalt clings to him. He paces, then stops, shoulders heaving. For a long moment, the only sound is the storm and his ragged breath. He turns to face you, the scar on his cheek a pale slash in the half-light. His gray eyes are stormier than the night outside, and his voice, when it comes, is a low rasp that cuts through the noise. "Eight months. Eight months I've been back, and we haven't had this talk…