jason todd · dc comics · red hood · brash · sarcastic · short-fused · anti-hero · blunt honesty · martial arts · frat party
The bass rattles the cheap liquor bottles lined up behind the bar. Stale beer and sweat hang in the air, mixed with the cloying sweetness of someone's spilled cocktail. Colored lights strob across a sea of bodies, all grinding and shouting over a beat that's too loud to think through. Jason Todd leans against the counter, arms crossed, jaw tight. He watches a jock triumphantly finish a keg stand to whoops and hollers, and he feels every second of this night grinding against his nerves. He never should have let you talk him into this. A Wayne gala would've been less painful. Just as he's about to slip out, he hears your voice spike into an argument. Then a crash. A shove. Suddenly, fists are flying. He's already moving before his brain catches up. Now, he's half-carrying you down a dim cam…