[ Shut up it's still high enough to kill you if you suck. ]
[ Sigma frowns at this definitely sassier than necessary list of suggestions, evolving into a scoff that almost cuts Jason off. It's true, he's got a hell of a lot of buttons, and the majority of them are wired to shit like this, you dick. ]
Yeah, sure. Game of tag. Just give me five.
[ Don't even close your eyes, dude, this is all he'll need!! He really shouldn't be undercutting himself in the face of this kind of confidence, but if there's one thing he can do, it's run. Surely horizontal speed will make up for whatever he lacks in vertical, right? Anyway, shaking himself out, he knocks Jason in the arm for affirmation before squaring up to the next building over and digging in his heel. There's no fire escape on this side but it's only a couple feet taller... ]
Alright, ready? [ No backing out (that's for him, not the comic book vigilante). ] One, two three—
[ And he's off. As advertised, acceleration and speed are on his side, and it brings him to the lip of the roof in the span of a few strides. The approach is a little dicey, but not too much momentum is lost as he catapults himself out over the alley. Which is lucky, because alleys are apparently significantly wider when traversed from above, as much as this building seems significantly taller up close. He gets about half of himself over the roof's edge, enough over the top to latch on but also enough hanging off to give his feet a hell of a time, scraping against the bricks to help him haul his ass up. ]
[ There goes his entire head start, probably. Not to mention his heart is already hammering with adrenaline before exertion can remotely set in. He sure just did that. So if Jason isn't snatching at his ankles already, Sigma wastes no time in taking off for the next big obstacle. ]
I don't have any action icons rn please imagine one
Sigma's a pretty good sport, and Jason's a kind and generous soul, so he'll give him the whole ten seconds of headstart to be nice. ("Nice.") He hangs back to watch Sigma go, tracking his trajectory in case it decides to take a downward tip so soon. But amateur as it is, he manages to catch himself solidly, if clumsily. Well, could've been much worse. He can really book it when he wants to, huh.
7...8...9...That should be fair enough. Ready or not. Jason makes for the lip of the building at a run to kick off the edge. He lands with both feet on the concrete, retaining his momentum where Sigma had stuttered to a stop to pull himself upward again. Before Sigma can try for newbie parkour trick number two, he flips their pursuer/pursuee positions, reaching out to tag Sigma's shoulder so he can pick their route.]
Nice night for a run, huh? How about somewhere a little more scenic.
[That is, catch me if you can. This close to the stately suspension bridge on the horizon, they're a hop skip and a jump away from the docks. Squat warehouses, shipping containers, scaffolding. Plenty to work with without breaking out the grappling guns or the Varsity moves too soon. Jason cuts sharply in another direction, leading Sigma out toward the water. The next building is a little lower, and an easier jump to make, provided you aren't afraid of heights. Jason rolls with the impact and gains his feet, looking back just long enough to see if he's still got a tail.]
[ Just as he takes off again, his sails are pretty promptly punctured by a slap on the shoulder as Jason scoots on by, loosing all the wind they'd accumulated from the (relatively speaking) successful jump in one fell swoop. ]
You're kidding me!
[ More of a desperate exhale than a shout, but it doesn't trip him up too bad. Neither does the sudden direction change, at least until the dart takes him careening directly off the edge of the rooftop. And that didn't even slow him down, just filled about 1.5 seconds of his fall with regret and forced all the problem-solving into the last .5 of the drop. Even if he hadn't caught the tail end of Jason's landing, he's seen enough action movies to know that he should roll from this height to avoid snapping his ankles, but the specifics on how to roll are a different story. ]
[ He ends up slamming down onto the next roof, flinging himself forward onto a shoulder, and flopping about half a rotation more than strictly necessary, ending up on his side facing back the way he'd come. All accompanied by a loud string of groans and expletives. But with pride still on the line he twists where he lies without a moment's pause, legs working wildly to get his feet back beneath him and take off again, burning through the distance between them in a kind of impressive instant. ]
[ But before he can throw out a hand and make any attempt to tag the guy, they're probably at the next jump. ]
[Monkey see, monkey do. Luckily action movies and comic book physics have a lot in common. Sigma's overrotation isn't a showstopper, and he makes up for his mucked landings with some enthusiastic speed on the straightaways, so on they go. They're coming up on a stretch of industrial fencing cordoning off the under construction section of a blocky and half-formed structure. Jason grabs a handhold to kick off and swing himself over the fence in a bit of unnecessarily showy acrobatics. Flipping heels over head over chainlink, releasing at the top of the arc so he can follow through and vault over without losing speed and make a break in the direction of the bridge. Beyond, there's a spat of skeletal scaffolding, a few cranes. Some tarps flapping idly in the wind on the catwalks. Any headway he's gained through showing off is put to use in hopping the gap and vanishing behind them.]
look it wasn't the nonary obstacle course okay call back when the riddler shows up
[ Sigma probably wouldn't have gotten nearly as far in ALASTAIR if he hadn't watched as many movies as he has, let's be real. The fence comes up fast, Jason springs up faster, and without the ability (much less the inclination) to do a sweet frontflip over the top of it, he's left jumping and sticking to the fence like a cat claws-first in the drapes. The chainlink is a bit easier than the brickwork to scramble up though, and he does so adamantly, throwing his legs over the top of the fence and dismounting, hitting the ground running. ]
[ But he peters out once he looks up and realizes that Jason's taken the extra handful of seconds the fence cost him to vanish completely, reassembling his huffing breaths into a frustrated noise as he swivels his gaze. At least without the pounding of his own feet in the way, the sound of boots on plywood pings him rightward toward the rickety scaffolding and he takes off like a shot once again. ]
[ Of course if Jason's even still on the thing once he clambers up onto it is anyone's guess. ]
[Oh, he's still on the thing, alright. Just a story higher and a lot quieter all of a sudden. By the time Sigma catches up, the sound of footsteps he'd been following seems to have vanished. He's swung himself onto the top of the next level of scaffold and gone still to listen, a blot of shadow behind the shifting tarps.
It's a little mean, but hard to resist. He bides his time just long enough to hear Sigma passing down below before he moves again to drop down behind him. If Sigma's listening carefully enough, he just might catch the sound of the landing right behind him. (Boo.)]
[ Ugh, this bitch. He stalks to one end of the scaffold, then to the other, leaning out to peer up at the level above, tuned stubbornly into the smallest of noises. So when a set of boots land softly at his own heels, he jolts around and instead of the obvious half a step forward he'd need to tag the guy, instinct opts for half a step back. Out over thin air. ]
[ He plummets down a second before lunging out, and he's left with all he can do being to grab at the frame and catch himself. The entirety of his weight on a single unprepared shoulder, however, doesn't do him kind. Momentum arrested for sure, but with a yelp he lets go and drops to the ground below, crumpling straight onto his ass and hugging his affronted arm. ]
Okay, yeow, time out!
[ If he's got the sense left to say something like yeow, it can't be that bad, but it's the surprise talking here. ]
It's not a long enough fall to catch him, but also not a long enough fall to kill him. (Theoretically the training room also has some safeguards against that kind of thing, but then again Jason grew up with the live-fire course in the Batcave. Anything's possible.) Still, he's not heartless, and Sigma's alright. He'd actually feel like an asshole if the guy snapped a femur or something on his account.
"Yeow" isn't the noise of a gravely injured man, at least. Jason's already giving chase when Sigma drops off the edge, so he's got boots on the pavement not long after Sigma lands on his ass. He'll give him a second to collect himself, dropping into a crouch in front of him while Sigma rocks upright. Of course, he doesn't manage to sound very apologetic.]
You know, I really thought maybe you'd see that one coming.
[Not because he has an overabundance of faith in Sigma's vigilante-spotting vigilance. But even if he was busy swooning, he did have some remarkable intuition going on during their little walk down the volcano. (And just because he didn't respond to the call for psychic tutors doesn't mean he didn't spot it.)]
[ Even as Jason lands, Sigma's already shaking out his arm. Man, who was the genius that installed realistic pain sensors in these things, anyway? Not feeling anything would be eerie, but at least let him pick and choose with that level of technology... But maybe that'd end up weirder than things feeling like actual arms. ]
[ And it takes him a second to register what the other guy's actually getting at, but he does get what he's getting at. Eventually. He hadn't exactly been subtle with his whole I see the future and I am afraid spiel since getting back to Oska, on top of this guy being subjected to his overactive skills on Nalawi. ]
That's not how it works, dick.
[ Not normally, anyway. Special circumstances. (Reverie-esque you could say.) He might've called time-out, but he still throws out a hand to tag the other perching in front of him. Or maybe it's just to knock him over, who knows. ]
[Well, that doesn't sound like a very useful superpower at all, then.]
My mistake.
[He makes a point of shrugging it off. Look, what does he know, he's working from observation, here. The ins and outs of superpowers aren't actually his thing. Even the dirtbags he's been up against lately tend more toward the mundane than the magic. Of course, that was before ALASTAIR.
Jason rocks back on his heels just enough to dodge the first thrust of the flailing hand, but he also doesn't put a whole lot of effort into it, so Sigma gets a tag in soon after. Congrats, your nefarious gambit has worked out.]
Playing possum, huh? Now, that's not very fair. [How very underhanded of you. Hah.] If you wanted to get your hands on me that bad you could just ask nicely.
[ It's probably how it could work, if he had any idea how to make them work in the first place. (Except not. All life-threatening situations, all the time. ty shifters and espers.) ]
[ But yeah, he doesn't let up in his attempt to nail the guy, and he's rewarded with a hit on the second go. Take that, asshole!! ]
Well it worked, didn't it? Thought you woulda seen that one coming.
[ You're the backhanded one here, right? Just don't... Don't say it like that. Stop it. ]
[ Christ on a bike, his tone is getting worse by the second, enough to make him sneer. And it's making him cast about even more desperately for an upper hand he absolutely doesn't have, even with Jason being It. Every sudden movement of his is probably gonna be a predictable one. Even all his stupid notions of jumping toward the guy to fake him out feel predictably unpredictable. ]
[ And so in a bid to—in his mind—triple fake out the man who dispatches professional criminals, Sigma just flips without word or warning onto his hands and knees to bolt like a sprinter at the sound of the starting gun. ]
[ The determination and initiative will catch him off guard, right??? ]
[No hard feelings, bud. Egging people into stupid reactionary moves is practically a reflex, by now. So is cataloging the way it tips the scales over so his 'opponent's' face screws up into a sneer. The way his shoulders tense and his hands brace down against the ground before he springs upward.
No sooner does Sigma go for his feet than he's knocked right back off of them. Jason drops down in a flash to sweep a foot around his ankles and send him sprawling. So much for the old triple fake-out. (Don't feel bad, this wasn't ever really a fair fight to begin with.) If anything, it's starting to feel like shoving Sigma into a locker after lunch. But Jason's not above being a pain in the ass, anyway.]
Whups.
[It was a valiant effort, at least. The protagonistic stubbornness is admirable and all, but he can do this all night.]
Y'wanna go for two outta three? Three outta five?
[Go back to the bamboozling, that one seemed like it was working for you.]
[ He should've known it was too good to be true, but getting the ball of his foot on solid ground feels like victory. Ergo all the more sour once it's swept out from under him halfway through launching himself forward. It sends him flying a meager couple of feet, catching himself on his hands just enough to stop him landing chin-first on the pavement. He still takes the brunt of it square in the chest, legs floundering briefly before sprawling with the rest of him. ]
[ He's still for a second. One wheezy breath in, one defeated breath out. He definitely bit his lip on that fall if the taste of iron's anything to go by. ]
Okay. Uncle.
[ As prone as he is to beating his head against a wall, that's pretty much what this entire encounter has been so far. He can take a hint eventually. After muttering his shut ups to the ground, Sigma pushes himself upright again and wipes the red off his mouth. ]
The hell is it that you even do that makes you so good at this? There's no way this is just a hobby...
[ His moves are too sharp for that. And Jason's grungy, but somehow he doesn't really have quite the vibe of that certain brand of urbanite that does weird parkour for funsies. ]
[You tried, Sigma, no one can criticize you. Much.
He'll take the win without gloating, because it wasn't ever really in question, lets be real. And he waits out the griping and the fishing that follows. Since "ex-boy wonder" and "career vigilante" aren't answers you actually give people when they ask that question, he doesn't answer right away. Just pushes himself up to stand and watches Sigma recover from his tumble. What indeed. This is what he gets for showing off. To be frank, Jason's concern about keeping up a strictly civvie facade here is pretty close to nil—the crew is tiny, and the domino mask in his back pocket would do little to conceal his identity even if he did put it to use when things went south—but that doesn't mean he's in a hurry to spill his guts without a good reason, either. It's not really anyone's business. Most of them. Dryly—]
Lets say I've been studying abroad for a while.
[But hey, this is at least part of the truth. He'd be in college now, if things had gone differently. (Instead he's learning from the best contract killers and worst dirtbags in the business—and then taking them out when he finds a good enough reason.)
Since there's bleeding now, he drops down next to Sigma and reaches in to nudge his head over so he can look for the split in his lip. Just a bleeder, no big. Gonna hurt for a few days unless he finds someone with some convenient healing magic to fix him up, but hey, he could always get away with a "you should see the other guy" if he wants to look tough. Dropping his hands down, he rocks back on his heels.]
Maybe I ran away to join the circus. [Hah. It's sardonic in a sharp and specific way that's only really funny to him. Barking up the wrong Robin if you're looking for the daring young man on the flying trapeze.] What d'you think?
[ Of course, Jason lets the silence tick for the precise number of seconds that precede the phrase I can't tell you, and Sigma isn't disappointed. To the point he can't even hold back a tiny eyeroll until the end of the other's "explanation". ]
Yeah, if they offered that kinda stuff in the programs, I would've actually gone.
[ Granted living in a big city, he probably could have found some urban playground bullshit wherever, but there's probably a little more incentive to Assassin's Creed it in Italy than your backyard. When Jason reaches in, he reaches up, prepared to smack the hand away, but it doesn't latch on at least. It's not that bad. Look, he'll purse his lips and—blink at the jab of pain that hits him like a flick on the nose. Thankfully he can disguise his mouth jumping back open with a well-timed reply. ]
What do I think? [ Or well-timed reaction, more accurately. Give him a second to actually think. ] I donno. Kinda hard to picture you having anything to do with clown makeup. But if I had to guess, I'd call you a gritty Netflix comic book reboot.
[ Moves made to be handled by a stunt double, quips made for TV cuts, leather jacket and scruffy chin made for a grimdark cinematic universe. Where was I going with this. Point is, he actually sounds a little irritated, though that's more of a personal problem. He hasn't known the guy long enough to expect a Life Story or anything close, but it's the ducking-and-weaving language that's touching nerves. That, he's had more than enough of. ]
[That's what you get for being a brat, Sig. He looks at least a little amused by aggravated tone and the sound of gritty Netflix comic book reboot. (Though maybe he'd be less amused with more context, it's a moot point at the moment.) That wasn't really a serious question, bud. He can do the dodging and weaving all night, too.]
Getting warmer. [Before this can be mistaken for actually enlightening—] I'm not actually a big fan of clowns.
[Just not the same once you get murdered by one, y'know? Of course, he's hardly the only one who has reason to hold a grudge against the Joker. Not really an uncommon sentiment, in the right places.]
[ Every question is a serious question, bro. That's not where he was going with that! Ugh!! Whatever, this is a lost cause... for tonight. Mark his words. You're lucky he's easily sidetracked sometimes. ]
Why, Gotham have some kinda clown problem? Goth clowns? Cirque du Soleil? [ The lightbulb goes off overhead. ] Juggalos.
[ Accompanied with a eureka snap and point. Be thankful this isn't in text and you're not getting all the pig-related jokes too. ]
[Yes Sigma, Juggalos. You've cracked it. This is actually a dangerous topic on a good day, for all he'd been doing a good job of dodging the personal questions. The flippancy largely drains out of his voice, but he'll bite.]
More of a home-grown psychopath.
[Deliberately even and a little leading. Some things seem to be constant across universes. Some aren't. There's no way in hell they share a universe if this one is flying over his head. The Joker doesn't just make local headlines.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ Sigma frowns at this definitely sassier than necessary list of suggestions, evolving into a scoff that almost cuts Jason off. It's true, he's got a hell of a lot of buttons, and the majority of them are wired to shit like this, you dick. ]
Yeah, sure. Game of tag. Just give me five.
[ Don't even close your eyes, dude, this is all he'll need!! He really shouldn't be undercutting himself in the face of this kind of confidence, but if there's one thing he can do, it's run. Surely horizontal speed will make up for whatever he lacks in vertical, right? Anyway, shaking himself out, he knocks Jason in the arm for affirmation before squaring up to the next building over and digging in his heel. There's no fire escape on this side but it's only a couple feet taller... ]
Alright, ready? [ No backing out (that's for him, not the comic book vigilante). ] One, two three—
[ And he's off. As advertised, acceleration and speed are on his side, and it brings him to the lip of the roof in the span of a few strides. The approach is a little dicey, but not too much momentum is lost as he catapults himself out over the alley. Which is lucky, because alleys are apparently significantly wider when traversed from above, as much as this building seems significantly taller up close. He gets about half of himself over the roof's edge, enough over the top to latch on but also enough hanging off to give his feet a hell of a time, scraping against the bricks to help him haul his ass up. ]
[ There goes his entire head start, probably. Not to mention his heart is already hammering with adrenaline before exertion can remotely set in. He sure just did that. So if Jason isn't snatching at his ankles already, Sigma wastes no time in taking off for the next big obstacle. ]
I don't have any action icons rn please imagine one
Sigma's a pretty good sport, and Jason's a kind and generous soul, so he'll give him the whole ten seconds of headstart to be nice. ("Nice.") He hangs back to watch Sigma go, tracking his trajectory in case it decides to take a downward tip so soon. But amateur as it is, he manages to catch himself solidly, if clumsily. Well, could've been much worse. He can really book it when he wants to, huh.
7...8...9...That should be fair enough. Ready or not. Jason makes for the lip of the building at a run to kick off the edge. He lands with both feet on the concrete, retaining his momentum where Sigma had stuttered to a stop to pull himself upward again. Before Sigma can try for newbie parkour trick number two, he flips their pursuer/pursuee positions, reaching out to tag Sigma's shoulder so he can pick their route.]
Nice night for a run, huh? How about somewhere a little more scenic.
[That is, catch me if you can. This close to the stately suspension bridge on the horizon, they're a hop skip and a jump away from the docks. Squat warehouses, shipping containers, scaffolding. Plenty to work with without breaking out the grappling guns or the Varsity moves too soon. Jason cuts sharply in another direction, leading Sigma out toward the water. The next building is a little lower, and an easier jump to make, provided you aren't afraid of heights. Jason rolls with the impact and gains his feet, looking back just long enough to see if he's still got a tail.]
I mean I don't have any at all so you're forgiven
[ Just as he takes off again, his sails are pretty promptly punctured by a slap on the shoulder as Jason scoots on by, loosing all the wind they'd accumulated from the (relatively speaking) successful jump in one fell swoop. ]
You're kidding me!
[ More of a desperate exhale than a shout, but it doesn't trip him up too bad. Neither does the sudden direction change, at least until the dart takes him careening directly off the edge of the rooftop. And that didn't even slow him down, just filled about 1.5 seconds of his fall with regret and forced all the problem-solving into the last .5 of the drop. Even if he hadn't caught the tail end of Jason's landing, he's seen enough action movies to know that he should roll from this height to avoid snapping his ankles, but the specifics on how to roll are a different story. ]
[ He ends up slamming down onto the next roof, flinging himself forward onto a shoulder, and flopping about half a rotation more than strictly necessary, ending up on his side facing back the way he'd come. All accompanied by a loud string of groans and expletives. But with pride still on the line he twists where he lies without a moment's pause, legs working wildly to get his feet back beneath him and take off again, burning through the distance between them in a kind of impressive instant. ]
[ But before he can throw out a hand and make any attempt to tag the guy, they're probably at the next jump. ]
sigma needs to get out more
look it wasn't the nonary obstacle course okay call back when the riddler shows up
[ But he peters out once he looks up and realizes that Jason's taken the extra handful of seconds the fence cost him to vanish completely, reassembling his huffing breaths into a frustrated noise as he swivels his gaze. At least without the pounding of his own feet in the way, the sound of boots on plywood pings him rightward toward the rickety scaffolding and he takes off like a shot once again. ]
[ Of course if Jason's even still on the thing once he clambers up onto it is anyone's guess. ]
that's what ztd really should have been
It's a little mean, but hard to resist. He bides his time just long enough to hear Sigma passing down below before he moves again to drop down behind him. If Sigma's listening carefully enough, he just might catch the sound of the landing right behind him. (Boo.)]
tru
[ He plummets down a second before lunging out, and he's left with all he can do being to grab at the frame and catch himself. The entirety of his weight on a single unprepared shoulder, however, doesn't do him kind. Momentum arrested for sure, but with a yelp he lets go and drops to the ground below, crumpling straight onto his ass and hugging his affronted arm. ]
Okay, yeow, time out!
[ If he's got the sense left to say something like yeow, it can't be that bad, but it's the surprise talking here. ]
no subject
It's not a long enough fall to catch him, but also not a long enough fall to kill him. (Theoretically the training room also has some safeguards against that kind of thing, but then again Jason grew up with the live-fire course in the Batcave. Anything's possible.) Still, he's not heartless, and Sigma's alright. He'd actually feel like an asshole if the guy snapped a femur or something on his account.
"Yeow" isn't the noise of a gravely injured man, at least. Jason's already giving chase when Sigma drops off the edge, so he's got boots on the pavement not long after Sigma lands on his ass. He'll give him a second to collect himself, dropping into a crouch in front of him while Sigma rocks upright. Of course, he doesn't manage to sound very apologetic.]
You know, I really thought maybe you'd see that one coming.
[Not because he has an overabundance of faith in Sigma's vigilante-spotting vigilance. But even if he was busy swooning, he did have some remarkable intuition going on during their little walk down the volcano. (And just because he didn't respond to the call for psychic tutors doesn't mean he didn't spot it.)]
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[ And it takes him a second to register what the other guy's actually getting at, but he does get what he's getting at. Eventually. He hadn't exactly been subtle with his whole I see the future and I am afraid spiel since getting back to Oska, on top of this guy being subjected to his overactive skills on Nalawi. ]
That's not how it works, dick.
[ Not normally, anyway. Special circumstances. (Reverie-esque you could say.) He might've called time-out, but he still throws out a hand to tag the other perching in front of him. Or maybe it's just to knock him over, who knows. ]
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My mistake.
[He makes a point of shrugging it off. Look, what does he know, he's working from observation, here. The ins and outs of superpowers aren't actually his thing. Even the dirtbags he's been up against lately tend more toward the mundane than the magic. Of course, that was before ALASTAIR.
Jason rocks back on his heels just enough to dodge the first thrust of the flailing hand, but he also doesn't put a whole lot of effort into it, so Sigma gets a tag in soon after. Congrats, your nefarious gambit has worked out.]
Playing possum, huh? Now, that's not very fair. [How very underhanded of you. Hah.] If you wanted to get your hands on me that bad you could just ask nicely.
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[ But yeah, he doesn't let up in his attempt to nail the guy, and he's rewarded with a hit on the second go. Take that, asshole!! ]
Well it worked, didn't it? Thought you woulda seen that one coming.
[ You're the backhanded one here, right? Just don't... Don't say it like that. Stop it. ]
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Very Machiavellian of you. I've gone and played right into your hands.
[Oh no. He could tag back and turn this into a stationary slapfight, but y'know. Also nah.]
What's your plan, champ?
[Looks like you hit the ground a little hard to run away.]
no subject
[ And so in a bid to—in his mind—triple fake out the man who dispatches professional criminals, Sigma just flips without word or warning onto his hands and knees to bolt like a sprinter at the sound of the starting gun. ]
[ The determination and initiative will catch him off guard, right??? ]
no subject
No sooner does Sigma go for his feet than he's knocked right back off of them. Jason drops down in a flash to sweep a foot around his ankles and send him sprawling. So much for the old triple fake-out. (Don't feel bad, this wasn't ever really a fair fight to begin with.) If anything, it's starting to feel like shoving Sigma into a locker after lunch. But Jason's not above being a pain in the ass, anyway.]
Whups.
[It was a valiant effort, at least. The protagonistic stubbornness is admirable and all, but he can do this all night.]
Y'wanna go for two outta three? Three outta five?
[Go back to the bamboozling, that one seemed like it was working for you.]
no subject
[ He's still for a second. One wheezy breath in, one defeated breath out. He definitely bit his lip on that fall if the taste of iron's anything to go by. ]
Okay. Uncle.
[ As prone as he is to beating his head against a wall, that's pretty much what this entire encounter has been so far. He can take a hint eventually. After muttering his shut ups to the ground, Sigma pushes himself upright again and wipes the red off his mouth. ]
The hell is it that you even do that makes you so good at this? There's no way this is just a hobby...
[ His moves are too sharp for that. And Jason's grungy, but somehow he doesn't really have quite the vibe of that certain brand of urbanite that does weird parkour for funsies. ]
no subject
He'll take the win without gloating, because it wasn't ever really in question, lets be real. And he waits out the griping and the fishing that follows. Since "ex-boy wonder" and "career vigilante" aren't answers you actually give people when they ask that question, he doesn't answer right away. Just pushes himself up to stand and watches Sigma recover from his tumble. What indeed. This is what he gets for showing off. To be frank, Jason's concern about keeping up a strictly civvie facade here is pretty close to nil—the crew is tiny, and the domino mask in his back pocket would do little to conceal his identity even if he did put it to use when things went south—but that doesn't mean he's in a hurry to spill his guts without a good reason, either. It's not really anyone's business. Most of them. Dryly—]
Lets say I've been studying abroad for a while.
[But hey, this is at least part of the truth. He'd be in college now, if things had gone differently. (Instead he's learning from the best contract killers and worst dirtbags in the business—and then taking them out when he finds a good enough reason.)
Since there's bleeding now, he drops down next to Sigma and reaches in to nudge his head over so he can look for the split in his lip. Just a bleeder, no big. Gonna hurt for a few days unless he finds someone with some convenient healing magic to fix him up, but hey, he could always get away with a "you should see the other guy" if he wants to look tough. Dropping his hands down, he rocks back on his heels.]
Maybe I ran away to join the circus. [Hah. It's sardonic in a sharp and specific way that's only really funny to him. Barking up the wrong Robin if you're looking for the daring young man on the flying trapeze.] What d'you think?
no subject
Yeah, if they offered that kinda stuff in the programs, I would've actually gone.
[ Granted living in a big city, he probably could have found some urban playground bullshit wherever, but there's probably a little more incentive to Assassin's Creed it in Italy than your backyard. When Jason reaches in, he reaches up, prepared to smack the hand away, but it doesn't latch on at least. It's not that bad. Look, he'll purse his lips and—blink at the jab of pain that hits him like a flick on the nose. Thankfully he can disguise his mouth jumping back open with a well-timed reply. ]
What do I think? [ Or well-timed reaction, more accurately. Give him a second to actually think. ] I donno. Kinda hard to picture you having anything to do with clown makeup. But if I had to guess, I'd call you a gritty Netflix comic book reboot.
[ Moves made to be handled by a stunt double, quips made for TV cuts, leather jacket and scruffy chin made for a grimdark cinematic universe. Where was I going with this. Point is, he actually sounds a little irritated, though that's more of a personal problem. He hasn't known the guy long enough to expect a Life Story or anything close, but it's the ducking-and-weaving language that's touching nerves. That, he's had more than enough of. ]
Come on, am I warm or cold?
no subject
Getting warmer. [Before this can be mistaken for actually enlightening—] I'm not actually a big fan of clowns.
[Just not the same once you get murdered by one, y'know? Of course, he's hardly the only one who has reason to hold a grudge against the Joker. Not really an uncommon sentiment, in the right places.]
Maybe it's just the Gotham in me.
no subject
Why, Gotham have some kinda clown problem? Goth clowns? Cirque du Soleil? [ The lightbulb goes off overhead. ] Juggalos.
[ Accompanied with a eureka snap and point. Be thankful this isn't in text and you're not getting all the pig-related jokes too. ]
no subject
More of a home-grown psychopath.
[Deliberately even and a little leading. Some things seem to be constant across universes. Some aren't. There's no way in hell they share a universe if this one is flying over his head. The Joker doesn't just make local headlines.]
He thinks he's real funny.