metalogs | [Open] Marching to the beat of his drum

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[Open] Marching to the beat of his drum

Who: Jason Todd

robintohood and you
What: Various antics as a civilian and as Red Hood
When: Throughout March
Where: Central City
Content Warnings: PG-13 level violence

Jason:

[The weather is gradually warming up and moods are lifting up for people! Well, lifting up for most people. For the owner of the Descendant Karaoke Bar and Lounge, he’s just briskly working as usual. Maybe he’s being less talkative and more introverted than usual but sometimes that’s what happens when one is busy. He even sometimes still puts on a smile to make customers feel more welcomed.

But that’s assuming people are following his rules. If otherwise, then his vocabulary gets colorful as he snarls out statements like…]

Pull that shit again and your brains get splattered across the floor.

[Okay, maybe how much rougher he’s gotten this month when he’s literally throwing and kicking out belligerent patrons might indicate he’s in a certain other kind of Mood. Don’t worry. He doesn’t usually bite.

On a note that can’t possibly be related, the 4-eyed black and yellow talking cat that used to hang out at the Descendant hasn’t been seen in a while]

Red Hood:

[The Backbreakers are as active as ever in Central City. They had a few setbacks over the last few months but that hasn’t kept them down. They’re maintaining their territory. Illicit goods are still being handled. The racketeering business is sturdy. The chop shops are always having a good time. If you ask a local in their territory, they might say the gang members are also friendly neighborhood vigilantes.
The Backbreakers are Society members after all. Overall, the gang’s recovery has been okay.

So in their territory during an evening, it’s possible you might see the Backbreakers’ leader with a couple of his people outside of a dive bar.

Though the Red Hood’s helmet hides his facial expressions, the way he’s whaling at a rule breaker might indicate he’s not in the best of moods at the moment. Blood splatters on his helmet also indicate how brutal he’s being tonight. He then drags his screaming victim by the hair across the sidewalk]

It’s time to get back to basics.

Wildcard:

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Jason jumps one step back and just barely misses the uppercut. There really is something very familiar about the way his opponent is using his weapon and not just because a couple of Jason’s younger brothers are also bo users.

“Nah but costumed weirdos tend to have agendas,” Jason quips.

Donnie's in his element, the staff practically an extension of himself for how he wields it. He presses the offensive once Red Hood's moving back.

"Spoken from experience, right?"

“Naturally,” Jason says, unashamed.

One sword clashes hard against the staff. Meanwhile, Jason’s other hand drops the other sword and a taser hidden in his sleeve slides out. He turns it on and slams it hard against the staff.

He'd been getting cocky. By the time Donnie realizes what Red Hood's got in his hand as he blocks the first sword, it's a second too late.

"....."

...it's a bit anticlimactic as the charge releases, and for a brief moment the turtle holds his breath. A second later, he's still standing.

"Titanium's only got an electrical conductivity of roughly three percent."

And then he's pushing back with the bō, trying to swing at Red Hood again.

Welp. Lesson learned. He turns and uses the arm still holding a sword to block the staff before whipping out one of his handguns to shoot Donnie in the arm.

Somehow, Donnie'd forgotten all about the gun. He'd gotten caught up in a good old melee fight, his cockiness only stoked for the impromptu science lesson. Locked as he is with his staff against the blade, there really isn't much time to move when the gun goes off.

He's never been shot before, and it all happens so fast that his brain's not fully registering it, save for the burning spike of a sensation in his arm, somehow feeling both hot and cold. He'd tried to move but it hadn't been enough, and now he's hardly moving for the shock of what had happened, taking a step back, grip from his shot arm faltering around his staff.

Jason’s not looking to kill for now. He takes a step back after the gunshot.

“Now how about you answer a few questions for me?” He calmly asks.

The helmeted figure lets his staff drop with a dull clang, hand twitching almost indecisively before he presses it over the wound. He sucks in a hiss of a breath, deactivating the voice distortion on the helmet.

"...okay, b-but can we promise not to tell Huvrye or my brother about this..?"

Jason freezes when he hears Donnie’s voice. Shit. Jason realizes he should’ve known better. The stealth and speed-based moves, the bo, the purple accents throughout the outfit. It’s all obvious. He should’ve clocked all of that in much sooner. He was raised and trained by the world’s greatest detective. But no. He was too stupid to see that. He chose to be just a brutish thug. He was being a fuck-up again.

“What the hell?” He blurts out, still trying to comprehend what had really happened. Evidently, it wasn’t a case of some unknown spy intruding on him.

"Is that the question you're actually going with because I'm not sure how to answer that." He's not even thinking really hard on his own answers, as much as he'd rather not think about how much his arm hurts. Not much luck on the latter.

How do you treat a gunshot wound? Donnie's trying to work it out and drawing blanks. Everything's out of order. He messed up. He messed up, and he shouldn't have... Shouldn't have what? He doesn't know anymore.

Jason pulls out from his jacket a pack of military-grade gauze. He then rips it open and starts to treat Donnie.

“Are you part of a guild?” He asks.

Jason knows he might face serious consequences soon for the shooting but the more pressing matter is making sure Donnie is healed up. He has to focus on one emergency at a time to get through tonight.

Donnie doesn't answer right away, still trying to pull his focus back together. His helmeted head lifts again towards Red Hood when he realizes the other's moved closer, hesitantly pulling his hand away to let him have a better look at his arm wound. He's torn between looking himself and not wanting to.

"...y-yeah," he says after a moment, not completely sure why he's being asked, but after another second or two he adds, "Society."

Edited 2024-03-23 04:57 (UTC)

“Good. That’ll make things easier,” Jason says. “Just in case we can’t get a magic healer, what kind of doctor do you need?”

His voice is even as panicking isn’t going make an already grim situation better.

"I don't know I- We never really went to any hospitals or anything back home. Huvrye took me to some...clinic or something back when I was unaffiliated and got stuck under a collapsed museum but I don't remember where it is."

Breathe, just breathe.

"I-is the bullet still...in there?" Will he still be able to use his arm? Donnie's barely keeping his own panic down but his notorious overthink's starting to shift into gear, the emotions he'd been keeping at bay starting to bubble up along with it.

"-ohhhmy gosh I am so sorry, I could have- I should have said something earlier, I just... I-I don't know-"

“I’m a Society member too. They got resources, remember?” Jason says as he tightens the bandage. “You’re in my turf. I know some places we can go. And yeah, the bullet is in there but I need you to try and not panic.”

Jason knows that’s easier said than done but he also can’t let Donnie freak out. Control and focus are what’s more important at the moment.

"-ow." It's understated considering how much it actually hurts, the thought that the bullet's still there just making him feel sick. Donnie squeezes his eyes shut, trying to focus, nodding at Red Hood's advice.

He's kind of neglected the whole guild resources thing. He's been so used to them all being on their own, and even though Donnie had been dipping his toes into Society workings and Mechanima himself has taken up mentoring him, having anyone to actually go to is still...different. Strange.

For a moment Donnie doesn't say anything, just focusing on breathing. The face shield of his helmet slides back at a thought, and while he hates being seen when he's emotionally compromised, he needs a fresher breath of air.

"Think you can move back down to the street? My bike's parked nearby," Jason says. He's finished triaging. Now it was a matter if Donnie can be moved safely on his own or if Jason will have to haul him.

Donnie nods again. "Ye- yeah, I think I should be able to..." he says pausing only to review his options. At least it helps him get his mind off of his arm a little. He can probably manage the fire escape so long as he doesn't have to climb.

He stoops carefully to pick up his staff, contracting it so he can stow it away, cradling his arm again to keep from jarring it as he starts towards the fire escape. At least Red Hood's helped minimize blood loss or this would be a lot harder.

Jason follows after Donnie and watches him. He's ready to try and catch him if needed. Once they reach the street, Jason takes the lead.

"This way," he says, walking towards where his motorcycle is parked.

There might be a few times where Red Hood will have to intervene, Donnie swaying a little too far here and there. He stumbles on the landing, somehow managing not to end up on his face.

Another nod and his helmet's faceplate lowers again as he follows, muffling his breath.

Jason remains close to Donnie as they walk and occasionally reaches to steady the turtle. About two blocks later, they arrive at his motorcycle.

“Just hold on. It’ll be a short drive,” He says as he sits on his vehicle and gets ready.

Similar to Donnie, he’s glad his face is fully covered by his helmet. He’s very anxious about what tonight’s events could lead to and what it says about him.

Donnie hauls himself behind Red Hood, bracing with his feet as best he can, hesitating before he puts his other hand around him.

"...sorry," he murmurs again.

It's weird riding behind anyone other than one of his brothers, but it's not like he has much of a choice.

“We’ll work out who gets to be mad at who after you’re treated,” Jason replies. His anger remains directed at himself than at Donnie. He starts his motorcycle’s engine and then zooms off towards a Society-sanctioned clinic deep within the Backbreakers’ territory.

That's not something Donnie looks forward to, fully expecting to be the one getting scolded and just as prepared to accept it.

He says nothing more as they go, concentrating on hanging on. At least it gives him time to think. He's still not to keen about having a bullet in his arm. Maybe... He can at least take care of that much. Being in contact with the object in question isn't a problem, and ultimately just breaking the thing down into non-existence would probably be less painless than having it dug out by whatever means.

Breathe out, breathe in.

Jason’s speedy and efficient with his driving. It takes less than 10 minutes before they arrive at the clinic. It’s a 2-story innocuous brick building. However, despite how late the night is, the building’s windows are all lit.

Jason parks near the front entrance and looks back at Donnie.

“Still holding up?” He asks.

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