Jason Todd is the Red Hood. (renegade_robin) wrote in wariscoming, @ 2012-01-25 00:59:00 |
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Entry tags: | jason todd/red hood, kon-el/superboy |
WHO: Jason Todd, Kon-El, NPC!demons.
WHAT: The Joker is back and it's throwing Jason off his game.
WHEN: 2AM.
WHERE: Downtown. Warehouse storage facility.
RATING: High for violence.
Scratch, scratch, scratch.
Hiding it had been easy at first. A few sly comments here, a bit of expected grumbling there. Of course he would grumble. Of course he would glare. Why would he not? It was no secret that Jason Todd and the Joker had a notable history between one another. To do anything less - to sit back and pretend that he was perfectly content with watching the man who had taken everything from him saunter through the seal like it was the most casual thing in the world would have been horribly out of character for one such as the Red Hood. He played the role. He acted the part. The audience surveyed his flash of annoyance, they acknowledged his displeasure, and they turned their heads the other way as the main event twirled on into the limelight in his purple and green costume and began to spew his madness onto the stage. The Joker had arrived. They knew they were in danger. They just didn't know how much.
Scratch, scratch, scratch.
Jason screwed his eyes shut and jerked his head to the side, the sharp taste of copper trickling through the open space in his mouth, escaping from the broken curve of his split lip. White knuckles were crushed against the pavement, dirt and blood smearing the edges of the torn black gloves that covered his shaking fingers.
The sound of a high-pitched chuckle shadowed from overhead, echoing all too smugly throughout the alleyway that ran along the outer edge of the warehouse. It was an old building, run down from years of use, designed to store shipments of agriculture supplies for some of the surrounding farming areas that expanded beyond the city. By day, the place was a busy one, filled with business that was undeniably successful in a place such as Kansas. When night came around, however, the only activity that the old warehouse saw was that of a particularly patient group of demons that Jason had been tracking for well over a month now. They were clever. It had taken a lot of time and effort for Jason, who had something of a talent for finding people, to figure out exactly how, when, and where their operation worked. They had scattered in groups. A few demons here, a few more there. Always circling the city, watching the unsuspecting victims of the seal go about their daily business with a great deal of focus. They were subtle, of course, but it had become increasingly obvious over time that they were limiting their stealth approach to a certain extent. They wanted someone to notice. They wanted someone to follow up. Furthermore, they wanted someone to get caught.
To snatch someone up would have been far too obvious and, judging from the conversations that Jason had eavesdropped on in the past, far too difficult. The complex was too well protected. Past experience had taught them that much. What they needed was to lure their enemy outward and trap them in their own territory, where they knew they would have stood a fighting chance. With a little more time, Jason knew that they would quickly pick up the attentions of those who didn't have the same intel that he did.
What the demons didn't know was that someone had already found them out. It had been by pure luck that Jason had noticed - he had been working a drug case to occupy his time, only to discover that one of the major players on the dealer board was, in fact, a demon. It only took some following up to learn the rest on his own.
He had planned to share the information with everyone. To put aside his tactical differences long enough to convince them that they needed to take down the demon horde, because even with his skill, Jason knew that there was no way that he'd be able to take them out alone.
Then the Joker decided to make his grand appearance. He had kicked his way into Lawrence with a bang and Jason knew that the old clown would be damned if he didn't make it in point to put on one hell of a show. He'd kill people. He'd poison, corrupt, stab, shoot, explode, and destroy. It was what the Joker did best. He set things on fire and watched them burn just so he could see how long it took for people to stop screaming before they were finally dead. And when that wasn't enough? He found whole new ways to manipulate and screw everyone over. Little things that spiraled into something bigger - something unforgettable. The tiniest of itches that could never be ignored.
Scratch, scratch, scratch.
At first, Jason had only wanted to escape. To get out, to do something of importance, because the itches that the Joker had buried beneath Jason Todd's skin were all too many to forget. He'd only planned on a stakeout. Nothing complicated. He'd sit on the roof opposite the warehouse, keep tabs on the comings and goings of the possessed management that occupied the facility, and then he'd turn heel and head back home once he was good and ready.
What Jason hadn't expected was the company. As it turned out, the demons were a lot more intelligent than he had anticipated. They had picked up on him a few days ago and had been waiting for the right moment to take him down. With his eyes on the target, his mind occupied with the Joker, and his back turned to the rest of the world, it had been all too easy for the demons to get the drop on him.
Getting shoved off the edge of a three story building, dragged into an alley, and jumped by their bitch of a boss hadn't exactly been in the playbook, but Jason was managing well enough.
...if being sprawled out in an alleyway with a dislocated shoulder, two cracked ribs, and a bloodied up face was managing.
It was totally managing.
A pair of hands with strength beyond that of the average human lunged out of the dark and found the collar of Jason's leather jacket, easily hauling him off his feet. The red helmet that the Red Hood often wore had been long since torn from his head, leaving Jason bare-faced and bloody as he glared at the black-eyed woman who was holding him up as though he were nothing but doll. Jason could've handled that. The doll thing was no biggie, really. It was the smug, self-satisfied look on the demon's face as she kicked his helmet aside and whistled back to her partner that really sent Jason off the edge.
Her partner, a demon with a hideous neck beard, came sauntering out with a crowbar clutched in one of his ugly, over-sized hands.
Scratch, scratch, scratch.
Blue eyes flashing, Jason spit blood into the face of the demon that had him in her iron-tight grasp. As she fumbled in a shock of rage, he launched his legs up, planted his feet against her chest, and sent her stumbling into a row of rusty trash cans with a well placed kick. Using the leverage he gained from the action to launch himself back a few feet, Jason landed in a crouched position in a dark corner, his good hand immediately going to his side as his shattered ribs screamed in agony. Swallowing hard, Jason turned his head and bit back the pain. He didn't have time to worry about his injuries. He had Captain Neck-beard stomping his way with - his jaw tightened - that damned crowbar, Smug Bitch clambering back onto her feet, and two more demons breaking free from the back entrance just ahead. Four in total, with a headcount of - the last Jason checked before he'd gotten slammed - at least ten on the inside.
He was outgunned and he knew it. While Jason wasn't exactly a fan of skipping out on a party early, he knew that this was a fight that he couldn't win. At least not yet. Not like this.
"I'm a little offended," Jason started through clenched teeth, hoping to distract them long enough so that he could pan the area out and find a quick escape route, "you go all out, throw me this great surprise party, and then you don't even have the decency to let me express my thanks? That won't do at all."
He'd have to take the big guy down. He was too close and he was rounding out to the outer side of the alley, where the ladder that led up to the roof awaited him. Jason wouldn't be able to get to it without having to tackle him - which he wouldn't be able to do without taking down Smug Bitch first. The others were far back enough to the point where, if he was quick enough - and he knew he could be - it wouldn't matter.
Neck-beard lifted his crowbar.
No scratches this time. No, a new noise. Maniacal laughter. All too familiar.
All in his head.
Jason dodged the blow, pulled a hand out of his jacket, and smashed the vial of holy water he'd been carrying against the demons face. Neck-beard immediately dropped the crowbar and reached upward to grasp at his burning flesh, giving Jason just enough time to pull out a second vial. He tossed it at Smug Bitch and it missed her by an inch ; glass shattering, holy water puddling at her feet, Smug Bitch did what she did best - flashed Jason a smug, bitchy, little grin - and gleefully declared, "you missed."
Jason returned the smug look with one of his own. Another item appeared from inside his jacket - a taser that Jason had modded himself - and before Smug Bitch could process what it was for, Jason locked it on and tossed it into the puddle. Jason turned his back and started for the ladder, her screams pushing him in the right direction.
The taser had been tactical. He wasn't supposed to shoot the demons. They were possessing innocents, who would die if he went too hard on them. Jason only hoped that the body Smug Bitch was wearing was tough enough to ride out the electrocution.
Or maybe it would've been better if Smug Bitch had already killed the woman herself.
Bloody hands wrapping around the metal rungs of the ladder, Jason started to painfully haul himself upward. He was quicker than the demons scuffling toward him from below, even with his injuries in consideration. By the time they found the foot of the ladder, Jason was already swinging his way toward the very top. He reached out, took hold of the edge of the roof, and then...
Then a new set of demons appeared. Demons that had been waiting for him on the roof.
Again, Jason had underestimated them. They had studied him just as much as he had studied them. They knew he liked to climb.
And he was beginning to understand that they liked to watch him fall as a boot covered foot slammed into his face and sent him toppling off the ladder, body free falling toward the alleyway below.