jason’s barely been back in gotham for a couple of weeks. the city’s too stifling , it makes him gag and choke under the pressure of the smog that constantly hangs over it , bruce’s expectations , his life as a whole. he likes to disappear every so often , not announce his return immediately and do something highly illegal and messy to let everyone know he’s back , which is exactly what he’s in the middle of doing. personally , he thinks the family will love it. well. if not the whole family , he knows dick will. he snorts a little when he looks at his handiwork , stood on the rooftop overlooking the scene. rich old men of standing , ones they’d probably seen around at galas before , ones jason knew intimately from his time on the streets , all hung up and drawn out and bleeding on the ground. to anyone that knew jason , they’d know it was him. for the cops and anyone else , they’ll just assume a band of street workers ganged up and did it. he crouches down on the rooftop , lighting a cigarette and taking a drag from it , holding it between two fingers of his blood soaked gloves. minutes. it took minutes. footsteps behind him , silent to anyone who didn’t know them. “ come to take a look ??? “ he asks , still looking down at the mess down there. “ i think it might just be my best work yet , honestly. “ he holds out the cigarette , just in case he cares to partake. “ i fucked off for three weeks and when i get back , these guys still aren’t dead. “ he almost , very much almost pouts at that. it had been fun to take care of them himself , but they really should’ve been taken care of years ago.
@feartoxinperfume
