[OPEN]

[terminates]

Who: terminates and YOU!
When: August 10th through the 12th.
Where: Various locations across the city.
Summary: A day (or days) in the life of an assassin. There will be separate threads for each day and locations detailed within them. Tag yourselves in, and name the time and location in the subject line!
Warnings: None.

Comments

August 12th

[terminates]

[ His target evaded him last night, so today, he'll visit the library for research purposes. He has breakfast, but doesn't bother with lunch, focused as he is on his business.

A light dinner is had, and then he goes out after sirens again. Tonight will be the night he apprehends his prey. ]

[under_thehood]

[Jason doesn't know anything about Re-l, but what he does know is that he and Bruce seem to be on worse terms than ever. Things briefly seemed to be going better before until the previous night when they broke out in another argument. If he can beat Deathstroke, Bruce would have to acknowledge him as the better Batman, the better fighter. So, after a few more moments of preparation, Jason swings down, attempting to land on Slade from above, knife out and ready to strike.]

[terminates]

[ If Slade knew Jason's particular train of thought (or his true identity for that matter), honestly it would make him laugh. As is, he only hears the whistle of impending impact, and there's a flash of cold, reflected light as metal crashes against metal. Sword in hand, his eye narrows at his assailant (Red Hood) before whipping the blade about.

If Jason wants to stay intact, he'd best move out of the way. ]

[under_thehood]

[Jason almost immediately knows he's outmatched when Slade is already countering his attack. Most of the dirtbags, minus his instructors, were poorly trained, but Slade is quite the opposite. He barely pulls out of the way and feels the blade scrape across his helmet as he swings the knife toward Slade's arm, hoping to knock the sword from his hand.]

[terminates]

[ There's a reason he wears armor, but given his opponent, Slade sees no reason to take any chances. Switching hands with a deftness that comes only from experience, he catches the offending wrist and twists.

Wrenching his would-be attacker's arm behind his back, the sword flashes near his throat. ]

Aiming a little high, aren't you?

[under_thehood]

[Jason almost doesn't even see Slade switching hands but once he does, it's far too late to reverse his momentum and in an instant he can feel a pop and hear an accompanying crack. Crap. Dammit Jason. In a moment, he knows he's outmatched but he's still not giving up, he can't. When the sword swings close to his throat, Jason attempts to simply ignore the pain in his wrist and arm in order to try and flip upwards and away from the assassin.

Egon said the same thing, too, about aiming for the wrong places and Jason feels stupid for not learning that yet.]

What're you going to do, give advice?

[terminates]

[ He allows it, watching the youngster (what other age group would take that kind of tone?) flip away from what he had to know would be his death. Well- if Slade actually cared. Truth be told, he has no investment in this encounter whatsoever, and to his knowledge, Red Hood shouldn't have much of one either. In fact, if memory served, Black Mask and others like him were more the other's speed.

Why, then, attack someone so far out of his league? ]

It crossed my mind.

[under_thehood]

[Jason doesn't even look down at his wrist, he knows it's turning black and blue likely but it's not important. His mind is 100% in the fight and he's assessing the situation and whether or not he should just plain run. No. No, he can't run. Bruce wouldn't turn tail like a coward. Bruce would fight until the end. So, after only a moment's reprieve, the vigilante attempts another approach, to feint an attack to the front in order to strike at Slade's spine with the knife.]

Save it.

[terminates]

[ Idiot.

Side-stepping the attack with fluid, inhuman grace, Slade brings the hilt of his sword around swiftly, aiming to slam it into the back of the vigilante's head.

For all that the ingrate has interrupted a work night, he's still not worth the cleaning he'd have to give his blade should his blood stained its length. ]

[under_thehood]

[Jason, again, barely manages to dodge the attack, rolling forward with a reflex that's simply engrained in him rather than thought of. Keeping his momentum going, the vigilante reaches into his jacket and pulls out one of his explosives, tossing it Slade's way.]

early morning, two hours before dawn

[in_starvation]

[ Jessica hasn't spent her time with the Darkness, mostly on the fact that she hasn't been all that interested in dealing with them. No, wait, that's a lie: she finds the monsters interesting, sure, but she rather get her bearings and figure out what to do with the island safely before going out and explore the literal nightlife.

So now she's on her own, looking down from a rooftop curiously. So far she has seen the monsters, but with her superior speed she manages to avoid them. She looks at a small crowd of them below, curling a strand of red hair with a finger. Even though the monsters and she are not even remotely the same, she feels a certain kinship with them: taken from life but distorted by unnatural states of death, only able to claim the world by the night.

It's by these musings that she's deep in thought, unaware of the world around her. ]

[terminates]

[ It wasn't his intention to stay out so late, but he's learned how to survive even in the deepest darkness. There are locations, small safe havens he's found in the months he's been in the city. He's careful to stay within a certain distance of them, though there are times he ventures to far.

This is not one of those time, though it has been a long night. He almost wonders if there's a point in sleeping since he could probably do without it.

Poised on a neighboring rooftop, he quirks a brow at the opposing figure but does no more. ]

[in_starvation]

[ She raises her head slightly, sensing a beating heart - not by smell, not quite by hearing, but something else entirely. Then she realizes that someone is watching her.

Without even thinking, the whispered fwip sound of her fangs makes itself known and she turns and sees the stranger. ]

[terminates]

[ A vampire.

He quirks a brow but doesn't react otherwise. He's seen enough bizarre things in his line of work to where very little surprises him anymore.

He doesn't approach (who would?), merely appraises the creature for a moment before turning to go on his way. ]

[in_starvation]

[ Fucking dick.

There's a strange, whooshing sound - like an angry whisper of a breeze. If he bothers to look behind, she's gone.

Five seconds later, she's on the other side of his rooftop, looking annoyed. ]

[terminates]

[ He hears it clearly and glances in her direction. If he's perturbed, it doesn't show, the opaqueness of his mask giving little indication of his thoughts. Truth be told, he doesn't see how his behavior was in any way offensive. Unless, of course, she's looking for a fight.

Poised with unnatural grace on the edge of the rooftop, he appraises her coolly. If she has business with him, let her state it. ]