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video | un: Mason

I'm not spending any fucking money on a bracelet, so, just as a warning, don't tag me or you will regret it. [ She may not look particularly intimidating but what she lacks in physical prowess, she more than makes up for by being filled with rage and an impressive amount of teenage passive aggressiveness. She gives a rough shake of her head, annoyed, rolling her eyes. ] This shit just seems like a good way to get punched.

[ Huff puff. Debbie Downer here is not into this shit, ok.

She may or may not be bored at work, as well, so if you're in the neighborhood for some alcohol in a dimly lit dingy bar (that didn't bother with getting a sign, so markers away), please come annoy the new bartender. She can be found leaning on the scuffed counter, scrolling through her phone with a perpetual sour expression on her face. Please don't ask for anything too complicated because she'll just make it up and you won't be happy. ]

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Who says it's not both?

[he takes another sip, crooked smile hidden behind the glass. it's a joke, but also not a joke, because it happens to be true. ha.]

So ... if I promise not to tell, can I ask what you lied about to get the job?

[ She watches him a moment, still grinning lightly. Both, huh? Yeah, he seems the type. ]

You do know that if you break the promise, I will have to kill you, right? [ She may be capable of being threatening on the rare occasion but her words lack any of that. Though, if he ends up having a big mouth, she won't feel too bad punching him, even if the punches she throws are... shit. Kind of like her skill when it comes to tending a bar. ]

Well, they say third time's the charm, right? Maybe this time it'd actually stick. [he shrugs lightly and sets his drink down. yes he's been killed twice. nbd.] Seriously, I won't tell. Breaking a promise is a dick move.

[ Her grin dims slightly, turning a touch more skeptical. ]

Aren't you just the joker? [ Womp womp ]

Nah, that'd be the guy who killed me the first time.

[he says it like it's no big deal, as easily as he might comment on the weather. it's a coping technique, or an attempt at one - act like it doesn't matter, and it can't hurt you. but it really is laughable; jason's death at the joker's hands is one of the things that has hurt him the most in his short, brutal life. he takes another sip of his drink and quietly studies sharon's reaction.]

We met one time before, right? In the park, the day of that bombing? I was covered in blood and kinda out of it.

[ Her smile fades into a look of uncertainty, jaw tight as she tries to read his expression. It sounds like it could be bullshit. A part of her would prefer bullshit. ]

Ha. Ha. [ That's not funny, she wants to tell him as she starts to wipe down the counter, busying herself to avoid excess eye contact. She doesn't think he's joking now and that chills her a little. ]

You did look pretty fucked up then. [ She acknowledges, glancing up at him briefly. That had been one hell of a hectic day and she'd had no idea what put him in that state. ]

[it could be bullshit, but unfortunately, it's not. jason can tell it's making her uncomfortable - he knows very well how to weaponize his words, especially on this subject - and he's not actually trying to get under her skin, so he leaves that part of the discussion behind with a light shrug, which can totally be interpreted as a just kidding.]

Yeah, there was a bit of nastiness where I was right before I got dumped here. [like getting a combat knife shoved through his throat and dying a second time. jason's life is super fun.] I think I remember I was kind of an asshole to you, though, and I'm sorry about that.

[ She's not sure how to interpret that shrug and files the information away to chew on anxiously later. But now it's her turn to shrug, brushing the apology off. ]

You kind of get a free pass when you look that bad. [ It hadn't even occurred to her to even hold it against him. Chaos rarely brings out the best in people and it's easy for her to fit his appearance into that chaos. But, still, his previous statement decides it's not fit for being filed away. Her brain is a dick.

She hesitates. God dammit. ] It wasn't the bombing that fucked you up, was it?

[jason takes a long sip of his beer, contemplating how to answer that question. maybe it would be kinder to lie and say yes, it was the bombing, but that kind of lying isn't in his nature. he sets the glass down and folds his hands on the surface of the bar as he looks up at her with his answer, entirely serious, no bullshit whatsoever.]

No. I showed up like that. I wasn't even near the park when the bomb when off - I was still up on the hill, at the Temple.

...That's shitty. [ She's not entirely sure what to say and frowns. That was really poignant, Sharon, good job, you're doing great, sweetie. She tosses the bar towel over her shoulder and leans on the counter, elbows propped.

She wants to know what happened as much as she doesn't. That was a lot of blood. ]

They fixed you up pretty well. Probably should've given you a change of clothes.

Yeah ... barely a scratch left on me. [not entirely true; there's a thin, barely visible scar in the center of his throat, about the same width as the combat knife that killed him.] New threads definitely would've been nice, though. I got picked up by the cops not too long after I saw you, so it was a while before I could change.

[he shrugs. yeah, it was shitty. was it the shittiest thing he's ever experienced? nah. just another day that ends in y for jason peter todd.]

Y'know, I'm surprised no one's set up a T-shirt stand by the Temple. Bet they could make a killing off the new arrivals who turn up needing new clothes.

Hey, maybe you should jump on that? You could be the poster-boy with your story. [ He's an example of all the reasons you should most definitely purchase that janky looking tourist tshirt. ]

"Buy my shirt or the cops might book you!"

[jason laughs warmly behind his glass.]

Thanks, but I think I’ll leave that to someone who’s a little more enterprising. I’ve already done plenty of time as a cautionary tale.

[it sounds like it could be a joke, but it’s not. he gently sets his glass down on the bar and looks up at her with a wry smile. might as well do this conversation properly.]

I’m Jason, by the way.

[ Heather has told enough jokes that aren't jokes to recognize someone else's and, just as she's supposed to, she lets the conversation continue as if she doesn't. They're all just empty bodies to be filled with whatever suffering life feels like dealing out and he's clearly had his share. Probably more.

It's always more. ]

Heather Mason. [ She lies easily without any pause or twitch, second nature to her. Names don't really matter, she reminds herself. If she really believed it, she wouldn't need to remind herself of it so often. ] It'd be pretty personal shit to sell, I guess, can't blame you.

Nice to meet you, Heather - when I'm not covered in blood, that is. [he gives her another of those halfway-smiles and a light shrug.] Apparently, my life's a comic book in some places, so I guess the personal shit's already out of the bag.

And I thought I had a reason to have existential issues. [ No lie, she probably wouldn't be able to handle it if she learned of something similar. She's had enough existential causing issues to last her two lifetimes. ] How'd you find that bit of horror out?

[ How he doesn't feel the need to bleach his brain is beyond her. ]

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video | un: Mason

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