Who: Jason and Dick When: 7/30 (technically) [forward dated] Where: Bludhaven What: Brotherly bonding over a dead body! Or...something like that. There's family news to exchange/ignore. Rating: Not too high, probably
There was something that was very ironic about all of this, in the literary sense of the word: when he tracked someone to a meet, they ended up dead, sure, but dead because of him, not dead well before he showed up on the scene.
Dead long enough for the cops to have been called, filling the street with the flashing red and blues, cordoning off the building even though Jason, lurking in the shadows of an alley with his bike, could see the dead bodies through the shot-out windows. It looked, even from this distance, like a classic meet gone ugly; a squabble over weight of drugs or briefcases used or, hell, just what shoes some mope was wearing. The end result was about what he'd want, except for the fact that drugs and money had appeared to have walked off with another party, and that always made a mess.
Now he probably had to figure out who'd killed them. Jason scowled and yanked off his helmet, shoving it into the compartment beneath the seat, making room by removing the battered leather jacket he kept inside just for these occasions. Pulled over his shoulders and zipped up, it hid the body armor and even the guns, at least well enough to pass for a civilian in the dark and among tired people gawking at a police cordon - even in this disreputable neighborhood, there were always those who were curious as to why the police had been called and if someone they knew was dead.
He slipped into the crowd, drifting rather than pushing, letting the gawkers nudge him closer towards the front as they tried to get a better view. That was okay; he wanted to be closer, needed to get a better view of what was beyond the police cruisers and yellow crime scene tape.