[ his mission's complete, but now it's an absolute shitshow, and after the first dead body, he really wanted to find his brother, make sure he was okay. more than anything else. he'd been a dick to, well, dick. but that didn't mean he wanted him to actually get hurt. not that he thought he would, but there was a paranoid fear wracking his brain that "just maybe." he wanted to pass it off as just another symptom of madness.
but whatever, he could let that drive him forward to start protecting others.
when he wants to draw attention to himself, he fires his gun, striking attacking spirits in the back, the shoulder, the leg. when he needs to take something down quickly, he pulls swords from seemingly no where, and they rend through spirit flesh with relative ease.
and then when a spirit knocks him in the head and he starts to fall, he redirects his movement to undercut the spirit, finishing with stabbing it in the shoulder, pinning it to the ground.
he didn't come here to play. ]
ii. time to burn it all away
[ later, once the dust has settled, he's seated at the bonfire. he's reading something, before coming to the end, and closing the notes in his hand. there's a sort of quietness, despite the sounds of the fire. and his shoulders are tense-- eyes vacant and distant. he pushes himself to stand up, awkwardly favoring one side over the other.
and then he tosses the notes into the bonfire, watching them burn. making sure there's no way to just save them or question him.
jason todd | dc | ota
[ his mission's complete, but now it's an absolute shitshow, and after the first dead body, he really wanted to find his brother, make sure he was okay. more than anything else. he'd been a dick to, well, dick. but that didn't mean he wanted him to actually get hurt. not that he thought he would, but there was a paranoid fear wracking his brain that "just maybe." he wanted to pass it off as just another symptom of madness.
but whatever, he could let that drive him forward to start protecting others.
when he wants to draw attention to himself, he fires his gun, striking attacking spirits in the back, the shoulder, the leg. when he needs to take something down quickly, he pulls swords from seemingly no where, and they rend through spirit flesh with relative ease.
and then when a spirit knocks him in the head and he starts to fall, he redirects his movement to undercut the spirit, finishing with stabbing it in the shoulder, pinning it to the ground.
he didn't come here to play. ]
ii. time to burn it all away
[ later, once the dust has settled, he's seated at the bonfire. he's reading something, before coming to the end, and closing the notes in his hand. there's a sort of quietness, despite the sounds of the fire. and his shoulders are tense-- eyes vacant and distant. he pushes himself to stand up, awkwardly favoring one side over the other.
and then he tosses the notes into the bonfire, watching them burn. making sure there's no way to just save them or question him.
see you later, dick. ]