Kannagara Application
PLAYER INFO
Name/Nickname: Arwen/FC
Age: 22
Journal: frickin-cheng
AIM/MSN/IM: frickincheng (aim, gtalk and plurk)
Email: frickincheng@gmail.com
CHARACTER INFO
Character Name: Jason Todd
Canon: Batman/DCU
Point taken from canon: After the events in “Battle for the Cowl” (A three issue limited series set after Batman’s apparent death at the hand of Darkseid)
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Appearance: Jason’s about six feet tall, and 225 pounds, all of it muscle. Keeps his thick dark hair short so it’s out of his way. Has bright green eyes, and strong facial features, sharp cheekbones. Expression is usually closed, wary, holding himself. His smiles are sudden, sharp, and razor-edged.
Dresses simply, jeans, boots, motorcycle jacket, black leather gloves. When he goes out on patrol will either be wearing a red domino mask, or the red helmet that covers his entire face, and is reminiscent of a motorcycle helmet. Usually armed to the teeth, carries a kris (long, wavy bladed dagger), a matching pair of Walther pistols, and his jacket is full of goodies like explosives, his version of Batman’s utility belt.
Considering what he does for a living, Jason’s covered in scars, knife wounds, bullet gazes all the natural hazards of being a vigilante. But besides those random scars, he has a lot more deliberate ones. There’s a ring of burns around his left wrist from cigarettes, and across his chest there’s some deep lines of scarring, almost surgical and straight. Both the burns and the straight lines of scarring are self-inflicted.
http://m1.ikiwq.com/img/xl/W7I0qckJLoartvek4R9EJc.png (Jason sans mask)
http://media.comicvine.com/uploads/6/62150/1159515-300px_jason_todd_400_super.jpg (Jason with mask, and Red Hood getup)
http://30.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lih12i1i0I1qi4ab0o1_500.jpg (this image of Jason when he’s much younger and still Robin, but I think it really gets his character across.)
*Note on appearance: Since Jason is a character from DC comics, and has been drawn by about many different artists, his appearance has varied over the years. What I’ve detailed out is the specific version I plan on using.
Background: Jason Todd was Batman’s second Robin, after Dick Grayson left to become Nightwing. He was quite different from Dick during his stint as Robin. He was nothing like the perfect golden boy Dick was. For example, the way Bruce found him was as kid stealing tires from the batmobile in crime alley. Jason was a little more impulsive, and more violent. During his tenure as Robin, it was possible that he pushed a serial rapist off a roof to his death, though whether he did or not was never completely clear. Bruce said that Jason was driven by rage, and that if he hadn’t picked him up, he was sure that he would have become part of the criminal element.
However, when he was about fifteen, he and Bruce went to Sarajevo, chasing after the Joker. Jason went on ahead, and got captured. The Joker hid Jason away in a warehouse, then beat him near to death with a crowbar. He finished off the job by blowing up the warehouse after he left. Bruce raced over, but was too late, arriving as the warehouse exploded.
Unbeknownst to them, the Joker was being used as a cover by Ra’s Al-Ghul as he attempted to overthrow the European financial system. Ra’s felt guilt over getting Jason killed though, because the Joker was a complete wild card, and uncontrollable. He didn’t want that. So he switched out Jason’s body and put his corpse in the Lazarus Pit (a rejuvenation pit Ra’s uses to stay young) to bring him back to life. It worked, but Jason ran off, and Ra’s thought he died again.
Jason hadn’t and returned to Gotham as the “red hood”, an anti-heroic vigilante with no qualms about killing criminals, and the idea that crime couldn’t be stopped, only controlled.
Personality:
There’s a lot that goes into Jason, a multi-faceted personality bordering on contradictory at times.
One of the things that dominates him is his death and resurrection, and the events surrounding it. His death was violent, brutal, and utterly unnecessary, he didn’t save anyone, wasn’t some kind of grand sacrifice. He was a pawn in a twisted man’s game, tortured and killed for amusement and for a message. Then after coming back from this, after being given this impossible gift, he finds out that his mentor has left his death unavenged, would not kill this maniac. This sparked a deep seated fury and pain in Jason, not to mention resentment. He carries this fury and pain, and honestly, it’s the root of many of his problems.
Jason, at first glance, is tough, arrogant. His expressions are closed off, or mocking, smiles sharp and cutting. He’s not afraid to cause pain, to hurt, or kill, but not without reason. Whatever will get the job done to control or restrict crime, then so be it. If he needs to gets his hands bloody, then so be it.
But with this brutal nature, he’s still kept his humanity, or rather, shows moments, and glimpses of it. When he was Red Hood, and controlling the drug trade of Gotham, he told the dealers to do their thing, but as long as they didn’t sell anything to children, or he would kill them himself.
Jason tries to act like he doesn’t care, that he’s tied down to nothing, and is only dependent on himself, but that’s simply not the case. He’s obsessed with Bruce Wayne, the man who brought him into this world, and the man that he feels like abandoned him. While on the one hand, he does nearly everything that Bruce taught him not to do, on the other he seeks both approval and closure from the man. He forgave Bruce for not saving him, but cannot understand why he’s not avenged because the Joker “took me away from you.”
Abilities/Strengths:
Jason trained with Batman from about the age of 12 to around 15. He learned a variety of martial arts, various acrobatics, basically how to beat up criminals to a bloody pulp with your bare hands, and not kill them. After being brought back to life, he traveled the world, learning the killing part of fighting, as well other related fields like poisons and bomb-making. Jason is very very competent at killing people, both individuals and larger groups. Highly skilled in hand-to-hand combat, he also uses a kris, or dual wields two Walther semiautomatic pistols.
Beyond the physical abilities of .being a vigilante, Jason also has the mental toughness. He’s been doing this since he was 12, going out on the streets, risking his life fighting crime. He has no shortage of bravery, or courage, and has been forced to keep in control in dangerous and volatile situations since he was young. He doesn’t crack in high pressure situations.
Jason isn’t a leader or a strategist, but he has an intense focus on things that catch his interest, a focus that is basically obsession. In the parameters of his interest, or obsession, he can come up with brilliant, complex plans, then perfectly execute them. For example, in Under the Red Hood, he comes back to Gotham as the Red Hood, hiding his true identity. He quickly takes control of the drug trade, pulling the business away from the local crime kingpin, the black mask. The black mask, desperate, then releases the joker in an attempt to dispatch Jason . Which was Jason’s plan all along, to hammer the local crime kingpins until they got desperate enough to release a madman, and so then Jason could then have his own showdown with the Joker and with Bruce.
Weaknesses:
Jason is a strong, tough, brutal individual. However, that strength is like iron, hard, unyielding, but brittle. You hit him in just the right spot, and he’ll shatter. He’s a very unstable person, and inconsistent. He’ll act with extreme brutality in one moment, and then in the next, act like how a hero might.
Most of problems stem from his resurrection. Frankly, coming back to life messed with Jason’s head. Foremost, the silent, gnawing fear that he really isn’t Jason Todd. He was just revived from the Lazarus Pit, one moment dead, one moment alive, with the memories of a dead boy in his head. But there’s no real proof that he was ever actually Jason, the body could be fake, the memories could be implanted. And everyone around him, tells him that the way he acts now, that what he’s doing is wrong, and not how he would have acted as Robin.
It’s a quiet, background fear that flares up at time, nearly paralyzing him. The way he copes with it, usually, is by hurting himself. It helps ground him that tells him that despite all that, he’s here and he’s alive now, because he can feel the pain. There’s the cigarette burns, and the cuts on his chest for more important events, because they also help him keep track, to know those memories are his, since you can’t lie with flesh.
Along with this mental instability, Jason can be impulsive. He’ll react violently and not think about the possible ramifications. Essentially, he’s often ruled by his emotions. Bruce Wayne often said that Jason was driven by rage, even when he was Robin. But rage and anger are inherently unstable, and since that’s his driving force its reflected in his actions.
As for physical weaknesses, well Jason is just a human being. He might trained to peak physical condition and have a high tolerance for pain, but he’s still human. He can be shot, cut up, and can be killed. He knows about that last one in intimate detail.
Defining Quote(s):
Something filled up
My heart with nothing
Someone told me not to cry
But now that I'm older
My heart's colder
And I can see that it's a lie
-Arcade Fire, “Wake Up”
Don't look at me rejected
Conclusions, delusions
Look at you standing all alone
All alone, all alone, all alone
-Calla, “Swagger”
Just how deep do you believe?
Will you bite the hand that feeds?
Will you chew until it bleeds?
Can you get up off your knees?
Are you brave enough to see?
Do you want to change it?
What if this whole crusade's
A charade?
-NIN, “The Hand That Feeds”
“Why? I’m not talking about killing penguin, scarecrow, or Dent. I’m talking about him, just him. And doing it because-because he took me away from you.”
-Jason to Bruce about killing the Joker.
“Oh you got to talking with Ra's, huh? Does it make it easier for you to think my little dip in his fountain of youth turned me rabid? Or is this just the real me?”
-Jason to Bruce about coming back as the Red Hood
Other:
The deliberate scarring on Jason is completely from my interpretation of him. He’s also violently claustrophobic, a psychological artifact from the idea of being stuffed in a coffin.
Action Writing Sample:
[The table’s cold against his skin, a searing brand against every inch of exposed flesh, which is everything, and it greedily sucks all the heat from him, leaving him shivering and shuddering. He doesn’t know where it’s going, because the table certainly isn’t getting any warmer from him. It just feels colder. Straps are holding him down as well, thick leather restraints that bind him even as he squirms against them.
Bruce’s hand is burning hot, stripped of gauntlets, just bare, calloused skin on his belly, sending a thrill heat through him to combat the cold. He trembles with it, with the sheer intimacy of it, just bare skin on bare skin, nothing between them, nothing hidden.
Jason sighs, a soft, blurred sound as Bruce’s fingers sink into him, right at his solar plexus, right under his sternum. Blood wells, slipped over, staining his skin crimson, but when Bruce pulls his fingers back, they’re clean. He sighs again, eyes fluttering half closed, and just watching as Bruce slips two fingers back into the split, widening it, more and more. More blood spills, and the smell of warm viscera hit the cold air of the room. He looks down and can see his organs steaming in the cool air.
He’s trembling, panting softly, but then one of those big, broad hands is at his cheek searing hot and soothing, calming; he leans into it, needy for a moment. Soon his breathing is back under control and the hand goes back down. Jason reaches up, and strokes the backs of his knuckles against the finger shaped burns over his cheek.
Bruce is cleaning him out, pulling out handful after handful of guts, liver and other unrecognizable viscera, letting them spatter carelessly on the floor, until he’s empty, until he’s just muscle and bone, and perfect, bleeding cavity. He shudders, the coldness hitting even harder now, now that he’s empty, now that he’s clean. He’ good though, good as he watches Bruce’s pristine hands pick up the Robin uniform, folded into a tight, neat square, and gently place it inside his gaping belly. It fits perfectly, the red blending in with the raw flesh, but Jason doesn’t like the way it sits, the way it chafes, and he begins to squirm.
Bruce pays him no heed, as he carefully lays the domino mask on top of it, and then draws his hands along the seam of Jason’s split body, sealing him closed, flesh knitting back together. ]
“Stop it.”
[Jason gasps. It burns now, felt like there is a fire inside him, like he’s stuffed to the bursting when he really is so very very empty. ]
“Please, Bruce, please, you’re hurting me.”
[There are tears streaming down his face now, pathetic, weak, but Bruce doesn’t stop, doesn’t stop until it’s all neatly sealed, and with just a simple wipe of his hand, it’s gone, the blood, all of it, and there’s certainly no scarring. ]
“It’s okay. “You’re Robin now.”
[He leans over, and presses his lips to Jason’s brow, chaste and gentle and Jason screams as they burn his skin.]
[The jolt to awareness hurts almost as much as the dream and Jason’s panting, as he stares up blindly, and there’s not wetness on his cheeks, because he’s done with that. Because that boy is dead now, and the only thing left is him, and that’s all that matters now.]
Third Person Writing Sample:
They never check the windows. Jason is sure there’s at least a little security in the hotel, along the hallways, and in front of the door, but there’s nothing outside. He smirks, as he rappels down the side of the building. The bag over his shoulder is slightly irritating, and the blood caking his gloves makes them a little stiff, but he ignores it as he slams booted feet into the pane of glass. It shatters under the force and he flies in along the the storm of glittering shards, gracefully leaping over the yelling man, and the screaming woman. By the time he lands, there’s already the heavy, comforting weight of his Walther resting against his palm. The man freezes, as does the woman.
Jason’s mouth twists behind the mask, as he takes in the tableau. The white powering of cocaine mutes the glitter of the glass shards covering the table before him, and the woman’s mouth is already bleeding, and not from the tiny pinpricks the glass gave her, but from a deliberate strike.
Jason just laughs and steps closer. The man cringes and tries to shove the woman between them. Jason pushes her away, and presses the barrel of his gun against the man’s forehead.
“Christ. Are you trying to be a living stereotype?” He’s still laughing, “Coke, a flashy, expensive hotel room, and a battered whore. Were you going to snort the coke off her ass, next?”
“P-please.” The man’s shaking, his pale eyes wide and frightened. “Please, I can get you anything you want. I work for Falcone, I’m his right hand man! I can get you money, drugs, girls, anything. You name it, its yours!”
Jason finally stopped laughing. “I know the fuck you work for, and who the fuck you are. And there is something you can give me.”
He takes a moment, just to enjoy the look of relief flooding the man’s face. Scum, thinking that he can twist out of any situation, that he can bribe himself out any tight tight corner. “I just need your head.”
“Wha-” The man’s voice is cut off by the roar of the gun, the flash of the muzzle burning a corona on his forehead, the back of his head exploding outwards in a red, pulpy mess, spraying over the couch behind them.
The woman’s screams turned deafening for a moment, though she falls silent as Jason trains the gun on her as well. Her eyes glitter with a desperate fear, too scared to beg. Jason keeps his eyes level on her, the gun trained on her as he leans in, hand going to the dead man’s pockets. He pulls out the wallet, and tosses it to her and lowers the gun.
“Get the fuck out of here.” She doesn’t need to be told twice, and races off, clutching the wallet to her chest.
Jason’s already forgotten her as he kneels by the downed man, pulling the corpse to him, even as he holsters his gun. He pulls out his knife next, the kris glinting, throwing off points of light. He’s quick, efficient, hand gripped tight in the corpse’s hair, knife plunging in the soft flesh of his throat, ripping sideways. He shifts back to avoid the blood pooling from the severed arteries. The knife makes a second pass, tip pushing between vertebrae and twisting, separating them with a quick, sick snap.
A third pass, and then he’s pulling the head away from the body. His gloves are wet with blood, soaking into the leather, into the blood already dried there, but that’s ignored as he pulls the bag from his shoulder. As he jerks the zipper open, the smell of old blood seeps out, mixing with the hot iron smell of the fresh stuff pooling from the stump of the corpse’s neck. Jason peers into the bag, and drops the head in with the others. It falls in with a muffled thump, and Jason barely smiles again. His hand slips under the bag, which is heavy, but not damp yet. The plastic bags lining it were obviously doing their job.
He quickly closes the zipper, and swings the heavy bag over his shoulder, settling it into place. He pauses before slipping out of the room. That was his last one, the last lieutenant. He was ready to meet the druglords of Gotham now.
Not bad for two hours of work.
Name/Nickname: Arwen/FC
Age: 22
Journal: frickin-cheng
AIM/MSN/IM: frickincheng (aim, gtalk and plurk)
Email: frickincheng@gmail.com
CHARACTER INFO
Character Name: Jason Todd
Canon: Batman/DCU
Point taken from canon: After the events in “Battle for the Cowl” (A three issue limited series set after Batman’s apparent death at the hand of Darkseid)
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Appearance: Jason’s about six feet tall, and 225 pounds, all of it muscle. Keeps his thick dark hair short so it’s out of his way. Has bright green eyes, and strong facial features, sharp cheekbones. Expression is usually closed, wary, holding himself. His smiles are sudden, sharp, and razor-edged.
Dresses simply, jeans, boots, motorcycle jacket, black leather gloves. When he goes out on patrol will either be wearing a red domino mask, or the red helmet that covers his entire face, and is reminiscent of a motorcycle helmet. Usually armed to the teeth, carries a kris (long, wavy bladed dagger), a matching pair of Walther pistols, and his jacket is full of goodies like explosives, his version of Batman’s utility belt.
Considering what he does for a living, Jason’s covered in scars, knife wounds, bullet gazes all the natural hazards of being a vigilante. But besides those random scars, he has a lot more deliberate ones. There’s a ring of burns around his left wrist from cigarettes, and across his chest there’s some deep lines of scarring, almost surgical and straight. Both the burns and the straight lines of scarring are self-inflicted.
http://m1.ikiwq.com/img/xl/W7I0qckJLoartvek4R9EJc.png (Jason sans mask)
http://media.comicvine.com/uploads/6/62150/1159515-300px_jason_todd_400_super.jpg (Jason with mask, and Red Hood getup)
http://30.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lih12i1i0I1qi4ab0o1_500.jpg (this image of Jason when he’s much younger and still Robin, but I think it really gets his character across.)
*Note on appearance: Since Jason is a character from DC comics, and has been drawn by about many different artists, his appearance has varied over the years. What I’ve detailed out is the specific version I plan on using.
Background: Jason Todd was Batman’s second Robin, after Dick Grayson left to become Nightwing. He was quite different from Dick during his stint as Robin. He was nothing like the perfect golden boy Dick was. For example, the way Bruce found him was as kid stealing tires from the batmobile in crime alley. Jason was a little more impulsive, and more violent. During his tenure as Robin, it was possible that he pushed a serial rapist off a roof to his death, though whether he did or not was never completely clear. Bruce said that Jason was driven by rage, and that if he hadn’t picked him up, he was sure that he would have become part of the criminal element.
However, when he was about fifteen, he and Bruce went to Sarajevo, chasing after the Joker. Jason went on ahead, and got captured. The Joker hid Jason away in a warehouse, then beat him near to death with a crowbar. He finished off the job by blowing up the warehouse after he left. Bruce raced over, but was too late, arriving as the warehouse exploded.
Unbeknownst to them, the Joker was being used as a cover by Ra’s Al-Ghul as he attempted to overthrow the European financial system. Ra’s felt guilt over getting Jason killed though, because the Joker was a complete wild card, and uncontrollable. He didn’t want that. So he switched out Jason’s body and put his corpse in the Lazarus Pit (a rejuvenation pit Ra’s uses to stay young) to bring him back to life. It worked, but Jason ran off, and Ra’s thought he died again.
Jason hadn’t and returned to Gotham as the “red hood”, an anti-heroic vigilante with no qualms about killing criminals, and the idea that crime couldn’t be stopped, only controlled.
Personality:
There’s a lot that goes into Jason, a multi-faceted personality bordering on contradictory at times.
One of the things that dominates him is his death and resurrection, and the events surrounding it. His death was violent, brutal, and utterly unnecessary, he didn’t save anyone, wasn’t some kind of grand sacrifice. He was a pawn in a twisted man’s game, tortured and killed for amusement and for a message. Then after coming back from this, after being given this impossible gift, he finds out that his mentor has left his death unavenged, would not kill this maniac. This sparked a deep seated fury and pain in Jason, not to mention resentment. He carries this fury and pain, and honestly, it’s the root of many of his problems.
Jason, at first glance, is tough, arrogant. His expressions are closed off, or mocking, smiles sharp and cutting. He’s not afraid to cause pain, to hurt, or kill, but not without reason. Whatever will get the job done to control or restrict crime, then so be it. If he needs to gets his hands bloody, then so be it.
But with this brutal nature, he’s still kept his humanity, or rather, shows moments, and glimpses of it. When he was Red Hood, and controlling the drug trade of Gotham, he told the dealers to do their thing, but as long as they didn’t sell anything to children, or he would kill them himself.
Jason tries to act like he doesn’t care, that he’s tied down to nothing, and is only dependent on himself, but that’s simply not the case. He’s obsessed with Bruce Wayne, the man who brought him into this world, and the man that he feels like abandoned him. While on the one hand, he does nearly everything that Bruce taught him not to do, on the other he seeks both approval and closure from the man. He forgave Bruce for not saving him, but cannot understand why he’s not avenged because the Joker “took me away from you.”
Abilities/Strengths:
Jason trained with Batman from about the age of 12 to around 15. He learned a variety of martial arts, various acrobatics, basically how to beat up criminals to a bloody pulp with your bare hands, and not kill them. After being brought back to life, he traveled the world, learning the killing part of fighting, as well other related fields like poisons and bomb-making. Jason is very very competent at killing people, both individuals and larger groups. Highly skilled in hand-to-hand combat, he also uses a kris, or dual wields two Walther semiautomatic pistols.
Beyond the physical abilities of .being a vigilante, Jason also has the mental toughness. He’s been doing this since he was 12, going out on the streets, risking his life fighting crime. He has no shortage of bravery, or courage, and has been forced to keep in control in dangerous and volatile situations since he was young. He doesn’t crack in high pressure situations.
Jason isn’t a leader or a strategist, but he has an intense focus on things that catch his interest, a focus that is basically obsession. In the parameters of his interest, or obsession, he can come up with brilliant, complex plans, then perfectly execute them. For example, in Under the Red Hood, he comes back to Gotham as the Red Hood, hiding his true identity. He quickly takes control of the drug trade, pulling the business away from the local crime kingpin, the black mask. The black mask, desperate, then releases the joker in an attempt to dispatch Jason . Which was Jason’s plan all along, to hammer the local crime kingpins until they got desperate enough to release a madman, and so then Jason could then have his own showdown with the Joker and with Bruce.
Weaknesses:
Jason is a strong, tough, brutal individual. However, that strength is like iron, hard, unyielding, but brittle. You hit him in just the right spot, and he’ll shatter. He’s a very unstable person, and inconsistent. He’ll act with extreme brutality in one moment, and then in the next, act like how a hero might.
Most of problems stem from his resurrection. Frankly, coming back to life messed with Jason’s head. Foremost, the silent, gnawing fear that he really isn’t Jason Todd. He was just revived from the Lazarus Pit, one moment dead, one moment alive, with the memories of a dead boy in his head. But there’s no real proof that he was ever actually Jason, the body could be fake, the memories could be implanted. And everyone around him, tells him that the way he acts now, that what he’s doing is wrong, and not how he would have acted as Robin.
It’s a quiet, background fear that flares up at time, nearly paralyzing him. The way he copes with it, usually, is by hurting himself. It helps ground him that tells him that despite all that, he’s here and he’s alive now, because he can feel the pain. There’s the cigarette burns, and the cuts on his chest for more important events, because they also help him keep track, to know those memories are his, since you can’t lie with flesh.
Along with this mental instability, Jason can be impulsive. He’ll react violently and not think about the possible ramifications. Essentially, he’s often ruled by his emotions. Bruce Wayne often said that Jason was driven by rage, even when he was Robin. But rage and anger are inherently unstable, and since that’s his driving force its reflected in his actions.
As for physical weaknesses, well Jason is just a human being. He might trained to peak physical condition and have a high tolerance for pain, but he’s still human. He can be shot, cut up, and can be killed. He knows about that last one in intimate detail.
Defining Quote(s):
Something filled up
My heart with nothing
Someone told me not to cry
But now that I'm older
My heart's colder
And I can see that it's a lie
-Arcade Fire, “Wake Up”
Don't look at me rejected
Conclusions, delusions
Look at you standing all alone
All alone, all alone, all alone
-Calla, “Swagger”
Just how deep do you believe?
Will you bite the hand that feeds?
Will you chew until it bleeds?
Can you get up off your knees?
Are you brave enough to see?
Do you want to change it?
What if this whole crusade's
A charade?
-NIN, “The Hand That Feeds”
“Why? I’m not talking about killing penguin, scarecrow, or Dent. I’m talking about him, just him. And doing it because-because he took me away from you.”
-Jason to Bruce about killing the Joker.
“Oh you got to talking with Ra's, huh? Does it make it easier for you to think my little dip in his fountain of youth turned me rabid? Or is this just the real me?”
-Jason to Bruce about coming back as the Red Hood
Other:
The deliberate scarring on Jason is completely from my interpretation of him. He’s also violently claustrophobic, a psychological artifact from the idea of being stuffed in a coffin.
Action Writing Sample:
[The table’s cold against his skin, a searing brand against every inch of exposed flesh, which is everything, and it greedily sucks all the heat from him, leaving him shivering and shuddering. He doesn’t know where it’s going, because the table certainly isn’t getting any warmer from him. It just feels colder. Straps are holding him down as well, thick leather restraints that bind him even as he squirms against them.
Bruce’s hand is burning hot, stripped of gauntlets, just bare, calloused skin on his belly, sending a thrill heat through him to combat the cold. He trembles with it, with the sheer intimacy of it, just bare skin on bare skin, nothing between them, nothing hidden.
Jason sighs, a soft, blurred sound as Bruce’s fingers sink into him, right at his solar plexus, right under his sternum. Blood wells, slipped over, staining his skin crimson, but when Bruce pulls his fingers back, they’re clean. He sighs again, eyes fluttering half closed, and just watching as Bruce slips two fingers back into the split, widening it, more and more. More blood spills, and the smell of warm viscera hit the cold air of the room. He looks down and can see his organs steaming in the cool air.
He’s trembling, panting softly, but then one of those big, broad hands is at his cheek searing hot and soothing, calming; he leans into it, needy for a moment. Soon his breathing is back under control and the hand goes back down. Jason reaches up, and strokes the backs of his knuckles against the finger shaped burns over his cheek.
Bruce is cleaning him out, pulling out handful after handful of guts, liver and other unrecognizable viscera, letting them spatter carelessly on the floor, until he’s empty, until he’s just muscle and bone, and perfect, bleeding cavity. He shudders, the coldness hitting even harder now, now that he’s empty, now that he’s clean. He’ good though, good as he watches Bruce’s pristine hands pick up the Robin uniform, folded into a tight, neat square, and gently place it inside his gaping belly. It fits perfectly, the red blending in with the raw flesh, but Jason doesn’t like the way it sits, the way it chafes, and he begins to squirm.
Bruce pays him no heed, as he carefully lays the domino mask on top of it, and then draws his hands along the seam of Jason’s split body, sealing him closed, flesh knitting back together. ]
“Stop it.”
[Jason gasps. It burns now, felt like there is a fire inside him, like he’s stuffed to the bursting when he really is so very very empty. ]
“Please, Bruce, please, you’re hurting me.”
[There are tears streaming down his face now, pathetic, weak, but Bruce doesn’t stop, doesn’t stop until it’s all neatly sealed, and with just a simple wipe of his hand, it’s gone, the blood, all of it, and there’s certainly no scarring. ]
“It’s okay. “You’re Robin now.”
[He leans over, and presses his lips to Jason’s brow, chaste and gentle and Jason screams as they burn his skin.]
[The jolt to awareness hurts almost as much as the dream and Jason’s panting, as he stares up blindly, and there’s not wetness on his cheeks, because he’s done with that. Because that boy is dead now, and the only thing left is him, and that’s all that matters now.]
Third Person Writing Sample:
They never check the windows. Jason is sure there’s at least a little security in the hotel, along the hallways, and in front of the door, but there’s nothing outside. He smirks, as he rappels down the side of the building. The bag over his shoulder is slightly irritating, and the blood caking his gloves makes them a little stiff, but he ignores it as he slams booted feet into the pane of glass. It shatters under the force and he flies in along the the storm of glittering shards, gracefully leaping over the yelling man, and the screaming woman. By the time he lands, there’s already the heavy, comforting weight of his Walther resting against his palm. The man freezes, as does the woman.
Jason’s mouth twists behind the mask, as he takes in the tableau. The white powering of cocaine mutes the glitter of the glass shards covering the table before him, and the woman’s mouth is already bleeding, and not from the tiny pinpricks the glass gave her, but from a deliberate strike.
Jason just laughs and steps closer. The man cringes and tries to shove the woman between them. Jason pushes her away, and presses the barrel of his gun against the man’s forehead.
“Christ. Are you trying to be a living stereotype?” He’s still laughing, “Coke, a flashy, expensive hotel room, and a battered whore. Were you going to snort the coke off her ass, next?”
“P-please.” The man’s shaking, his pale eyes wide and frightened. “Please, I can get you anything you want. I work for Falcone, I’m his right hand man! I can get you money, drugs, girls, anything. You name it, its yours!”
Jason finally stopped laughing. “I know the fuck you work for, and who the fuck you are. And there is something you can give me.”
He takes a moment, just to enjoy the look of relief flooding the man’s face. Scum, thinking that he can twist out of any situation, that he can bribe himself out any tight tight corner. “I just need your head.”
“Wha-” The man’s voice is cut off by the roar of the gun, the flash of the muzzle burning a corona on his forehead, the back of his head exploding outwards in a red, pulpy mess, spraying over the couch behind them.
The woman’s screams turned deafening for a moment, though she falls silent as Jason trains the gun on her as well. Her eyes glitter with a desperate fear, too scared to beg. Jason keeps his eyes level on her, the gun trained on her as he leans in, hand going to the dead man’s pockets. He pulls out the wallet, and tosses it to her and lowers the gun.
“Get the fuck out of here.” She doesn’t need to be told twice, and races off, clutching the wallet to her chest.
Jason’s already forgotten her as he kneels by the downed man, pulling the corpse to him, even as he holsters his gun. He pulls out his knife next, the kris glinting, throwing off points of light. He’s quick, efficient, hand gripped tight in the corpse’s hair, knife plunging in the soft flesh of his throat, ripping sideways. He shifts back to avoid the blood pooling from the severed arteries. The knife makes a second pass, tip pushing between vertebrae and twisting, separating them with a quick, sick snap.
A third pass, and then he’s pulling the head away from the body. His gloves are wet with blood, soaking into the leather, into the blood already dried there, but that’s ignored as he pulls the bag from his shoulder. As he jerks the zipper open, the smell of old blood seeps out, mixing with the hot iron smell of the fresh stuff pooling from the stump of the corpse’s neck. Jason peers into the bag, and drops the head in with the others. It falls in with a muffled thump, and Jason barely smiles again. His hand slips under the bag, which is heavy, but not damp yet. The plastic bags lining it were obviously doing their job.
He quickly closes the zipper, and swings the heavy bag over his shoulder, settling it into place. He pauses before slipping out of the room. That was his last one, the last lieutenant. He was ready to meet the druglords of Gotham now.
Not bad for two hours of work.