Killer Croc had just settled an old debt with a former associate. Blood still dripping from his jaw and claws as he looked for the river’s shore. Once in the water, Croc could swim through the underwater entrance and into the sewers were he’d be home. And although his acquaintance didn’t pay up, the man had fed him, and saciating his hunger was far better than saciating his greed. At least, in Croc’s book. Afterall, he was always so damn hungry.
As the seven footer walked into the park, he caught a very familiar scent. One he hadn’t found since the Suicide Squad had crossed paths with the Outlaws. “Goddamn…” He snarled to himself, hunting the source of the scent. However, as his reptilian gaze settled upon the figure on a lonely bench facing the river shore, Croc relaxed. Something seemed off though, seeing the boy wasn’t even sporting that annoying red helmet so characteristic of his mantle.
Another taste of his scent gave Croc an insight into the Red Hood. He seemed to be going through something. Croc paused. He could walk away, which it was definately what he needed to do… What he should’ve done and yet didn’t. With a lonh sigh, Croc walked over and sat beside the former Robin. “This some unusual shit,” Croc said after a moment. “Or is this part of the Bat’s training: lesson 12- brooding,” he mocked, looking at thecunmasked Red Hood for any response. Sure his smartmouth was unfaced by his shitty mood.
there wasn’t much of an explanation on how jason had found himself sitting on a bench facing the river shore, one moment he’s with the outlaws doing something and a second later he’s on a bench staring off into the distance. normally it would raise some what of a concern in him, but with everything that’s been happening, jason couldn’t find it within himself to care about it. rather, it’s better if he acts ignorant of his issues. ( sometimes the truth hurts too much, brought too much pain than good in his life. ) he knows that when he goes back home ( odd to think that he has one now, one that isn’t the wayne manor ) roy && kori would give him those looks before sitting him down and asking him ( for the billionth time ) if he’s okay. ( and he realised that everyone has been asking him that question a lot, which his answer had always been a laugh and a ‘well i am alive aren’t i?’ )
honestly, jason doesn’t know if he is okay, or what standard of okay he’s suppose to be. to start off, he’s a supposedly dead boy who is now alive because of some mad man’s magical green water of black magic. now because of said magical green water, he has become somewhat insane and has anger management worst than when he was fourteen years old. and the list continues on and on with no signs of ever stopping, so the questions “are you okay” is simply rhetorical. but he guess he could appreciate the sentiment, that people do it because they care about it him. ( which he finds is quite a lie but now has completely given up to even argue with it. ) but now with the joker’s death, jason couldn’t quite find it within him to able to joke it through that he’s okay. in fact, everything’s been going the exact opposite -- as horribly wrong as it can possibly get. ( which isn’t something he wants to tell anyone, particularly roy && kori ).
deep within his troubled thoughts, jason hadn’t even notice someone sitting next to him -- especially one that is killer croc. shaken out of his thoughts, he turns around quickly about to whip out his guns to only realise that it was a familiar face. “i am not brooding!” he quickly argues back despite the deeply etched frown and pout on his face. “and i am not part of the bats. you all know this, so why the fuck would the big guy even care about me? if anything, he would rather spend his time training his precious little birdies.” crossing his arms, jason turns his gaze back out onto the river as he slouches back into the bench. “so, what are you here for? feeling the mood to stare at some river as well? or are you here to fulfil my long time desire of dying?”
