[ Helps to have already witnessed C.C.'s words in action. Or more accurately, to have brought said words to life himself. The Red Hood descended upon Gotham's underworld as a total anomaly, a non-sequitur in the well-oiled machine that was its criminal ranks. While wild cards like the Joker reigned supreme on their debuts, they were eventually folded into what would become Gotham's status quo. For all the mayhem caused by the likes of the Joker and Two-Face, their brand of villainy came to be expected after a while. Red Hood, on the other hand... is a non-sequitur. Far too principled to let the exploitation of children and the poor slide under his watch, yet just violent enough to rock the boat. Keep Gotham's rogues in line.
The work's in reeling in those who disobey. Who see to it to challenge Red Hood. But fighting back... that kind of work requires refueling. Like the kind Jason's getting from all this pizza, which he happily continues wolfing down. He cracks an amused smile at her facetious critique, C.C. pointing out the obvious flaws in his plan to treat her like a human shield. ]
Ha. One way or another, I'm supposed to use protection.
Besides, you never know. I could have all the armor and planning in the world, but I might still have to rely on your body.
[ Well that came out wrong. He thought better than to say it at first... but said it anyway. Like he's all too fond of poking hornet's nests, even at his own expense. ]
As a shield. For protection. From enemies.
[ Y'know what? He's just gonna focus on finishing the crust-- what's left of this slice in his hand. His concentration's clearly divided. Then she says the thing about the water. ]
Right. Can't have that, can we?
[ Given the care with which he'd been eating all this pizza, he'd actually only been using a single hand to do so. The other hand, clean of any foodstuff, is free to dip its fingers in the bath, gauging the temperature. "Getting cold" my ass, he thinks. Maybe it still will in ten or more minutes, but the warmth to the touch suffices. Which is why, when he's finished the last of that crust, he rises to wash his hands on the nearby faucet. It's then that he proceeds to disrobe further, losing the grey sweatpants... and then the boxers underneath.
Again, it's nothing they both haven't seen already. This behavior between them isn't new. But that doesn't make Jason less... stiff. Tense. Never quite sure where he really stands, but sustained nonetheless by an excitement he can't quite articulate. ]
Nothing we can't heat up sooner or later.
[ The water bill's among the least of their concerns, to be sure. So finally he takes the plunge, one foot in before the other, as he takes a seat in the soapy bath. With his added mass, the displacement of the water threatens to have it spill over the tub's edge, but he's cognizant of this. He reaches to open the drain for a few seconds, shutting it once the water's at a safe volume. ]
That's more like it. Big spills are the worst.
[ He remembers how much of a mess he made climbing out of that Lazarus Pit.
Now, at least, he can finally relax, leaning back on his side of the tub. Both arms extend to either side of him, on the tub's rim. Beneath the water, he sits cross-legged, not wanting to take up too much space. The tub's really only spacious enough for, say, 1.5 people? But maybe, for them... a lack of space isn't a problem. ]
Y'know, after all the shit from tonight, I kinda needed this. I'm just really damn sore.
no subject
[ Helps to have already witnessed C.C.'s words in action. Or more accurately, to have brought said words to life himself. The Red Hood descended upon Gotham's underworld as a total anomaly, a non-sequitur in the well-oiled machine that was its criminal ranks. While wild cards like the Joker reigned supreme on their debuts, they were eventually folded into what would become Gotham's status quo. For all the mayhem caused by the likes of the Joker and Two-Face, their brand of villainy came to be expected after a while. Red Hood, on the other hand... is a non-sequitur. Far too principled to let the exploitation of children and the poor slide under his watch, yet just violent enough to rock the boat. Keep Gotham's rogues in line.
The work's in reeling in those who disobey. Who see to it to challenge Red Hood. But fighting back... that kind of work requires refueling. Like the kind Jason's getting from all this pizza, which he happily continues wolfing down. He cracks an amused smile at her facetious critique, C.C. pointing out the obvious flaws in his plan to treat her like a human shield. ]
Ha. One way or another, I'm supposed to use protection.
Besides, you never know. I could have all the armor and planning in the world, but I might still have to rely on your body.
[ Well that came out wrong. He thought better than to say it at first... but said it anyway. Like he's all too fond of poking hornet's nests, even at his own expense. ]
As a shield. For protection. From enemies.
[ Y'know what? He's just gonna focus on finishing the crust-- what's left of this slice in his hand. His concentration's clearly divided. Then she says the thing about the water. ]
Right. Can't have that, can we?
[ Given the care with which he'd been eating all this pizza, he'd actually only been using a single hand to do so. The other hand, clean of any foodstuff, is free to dip its fingers in the bath, gauging the temperature. "Getting cold" my ass, he thinks. Maybe it still will in ten or more minutes, but the warmth to the touch suffices. Which is why, when he's finished the last of that crust, he rises to wash his hands on the nearby faucet. It's then that he proceeds to disrobe further, losing the grey sweatpants... and then the boxers underneath.
Again, it's nothing they both haven't seen already. This behavior between them isn't new. But that doesn't make Jason less... stiff. Tense. Never quite sure where he really stands, but sustained nonetheless by an excitement he can't quite articulate. ]
Nothing we can't heat up sooner or later.
[ The water bill's among the least of their concerns, to be sure. So finally he takes the plunge, one foot in before the other, as he takes a seat in the soapy bath. With his added mass, the displacement of the water threatens to have it spill over the tub's edge, but he's cognizant of this. He reaches to open the drain for a few seconds, shutting it once the water's at a safe volume. ]
That's more like it. Big spills are the worst.
[ He remembers how much of a mess he made climbing out of that Lazarus Pit.
Now, at least, he can finally relax, leaning back on his side of the tub. Both arms extend to either side of him, on the tub's rim. Beneath the water, he sits cross-legged, not wanting to take up too much space. The tub's really only spacious enough for, say, 1.5 people? But maybe, for them... a lack of space isn't a problem. ]
Y'know, after all the shit from tonight, I kinda needed this. I'm just really damn sore.