( jason has many hobbies. he cleans his guns, sharpens his knives, works on his favorite bike, and then the rest of his hoard. he drives dickie to and from school some days, packs him lunches, snarks with the hoard of soccer moms who fuss over goddamn high schoolers like that's normal - and puts on his mask and gear to come out in the middle of the night to fuck with junior's rival gangs.
not because he's helping. he's never helping. but stalking them down and figuring out what they're up to is plenty useful for nonhelping reasons, like figuring out what the hell central's underground is getting its sticky fingers into this time.
which also has rook's attention, it seems. jason spots him from a few rooftops away, crouched down low as he watches tim start to fold up his garbage. lets the barest hint of a smirk curl up the corners of his lips as he drops down from the rooftop, careful to keep his steps as silent as possible as he approaches from behind and--reaches out once he's close enough, to grab onto the back of his shirt. )
Have I told you how much I hate your new color scheme? I miss the red.
stakeout
not because he's helping. he's never helping. but stalking them down and figuring out what they're up to is plenty useful for nonhelping reasons, like figuring out what the hell central's underground is getting its sticky fingers into this time.
which also has rook's attention, it seems. jason spots him from a few rooftops away, crouched down low as he watches tim start to fold up his garbage. lets the barest hint of a smirk curl up the corners of his lips as he drops down from the rooftop, careful to keep his steps as silent as possible as he approaches from behind and--reaches out once he's close enough, to grab onto the back of his shirt. )
Have I told you how much I hate your new color scheme? I miss the red.