I am vengeance, I am the night, I am BATMAN!
Moderator
|
Post by BATMAN on Jul 18, 2017 3:32:26 GMT
Timeline: After Clowns to The Left of Me Previous Threads: Clowns to the Left of Me Characters Involved: Red Hood , BATMAN , Venom Location: Across the darkened streets of Hell's Kitchen  The darkened sky flashed with lightning, the sudden downpour coming on fast and heavy, as if the Heaven’s themselves wept for what transpired below. A roaring louder than the thunder itself echoed through the shadows streets of Hell’s Kitchen as the Batmobile rounded a corner, its jet engine spitting flames as it raced after the motorcycle ahead of it. Batman had followed the motorcycle’s driver as far as he could on foot, watching carefully as his quarry countered his every maneuver as if the movements had been practiced a thousand times. The chord of his Bat Claw was severed by the high-end blade, his Tazer rounds failing to effect the insulated armor, and his every move anticipated. Whoever this Red Hood was, he fought much like Batman himself, with tools specifically meant to either mimic or counter his own equipment. If Batman didn’t know any better he’d almost wonder if this was New Earth’s version of himself, but the voice didn’t match, nor did the height and weight. He was good, excellent even, his acrobatics similar to Nightwing’s own but adjusted for the greater weight and height. Not for the first time he noted how similar his movements were to another of his protégés. Jason Todd had been good, very good but despite his skill he was Batman’s greatest failure. He had failed to adequately understand the rage issues the boy had, failed to save him from the clutches of the Joker, and failed to train him well enough to defeat his worse instincts. These were thoughts that had haunted his every waking moments since the day he lost Jason, but seeing this Red Hood move in a way that reminded him of what Jason would have become had he not been taken from the world brought the memories flooding to the surface. Almost as quickly as they rose he had shoved them back down where they belonged, in the darkest depths of his mind, locked tight along with his other failures including the failure to save his parents, the one that drove him to be the Batman. He had a job to do and reminiscing about the past and similarities whether real or imagined to a fallen soldier was not going to aid him. Pushing the car into high gear he watched as the motorcycle weaved in and out of what traffic there was, a targeting reticule locking onto the bike as Batman targeted the vehicle. Large, mini-guns leapt from their ports on the side of the Batmobile as several rounds of rubber ammunition flew towards the Red Hood. Squinting through the rain slick windshield Batman prepared a secondary attack, an EMP based shot that would hit the bike when the Hood attempted to dodge the rubber rounds. Unless the man was an exceptional driver on top of being an amazing combatant he was not going to be able to dodge both. Once he was no longer running, The Dark Knight would pay special care to show him why he didn’t like being reminded of the past… Red Hood
|
|
Joker made me hate you. But you let him do it.
|
Post by Red Hood on Jul 20, 2017 3:36:41 GMT
How does one trap a bat? It was an age-old question back in Gotham City, amidst the grumbles of disgruntled gangsters and relapsed Arkham inmates, all muttering and complaining about how “they almost got him,” and forever questioning how their grand master plan went so sour. B*tching and whining as the bars slammed shut, as if reading from the script shared by all thwarted villains, they'd clutch onto that thought that if Batman hadn't interfered, the operation would have miraculously gone off without a hitch. How do you plan for a force like him? How do you remove that inevitable element from the equation? How does one trap a bat? You learn to live like one. Jason Todd had lived like a bat for years. He knew all the tricks, understood all the faults, and stretched his wings out as wide as he could beside the man behind the cowl, the man who had taken him in as his own, the man who made him believe his existence actually meant something...that he was more than just wasted space out on the streets. And yet, in the end, he was only reminded that he was no bat, but just a tiny bird beside Bruce, puffing up his feathers to make himself seem big and strong until he was finally smacked out of the air, his wings clipped and left to rot in a cage. Lost. Forgotten. All because he wasn't really a bat like Bruce. But he now knew how to trap one. The lure was simple enough – a very carefully advertised, yet supposedly “secret” weapons deal with supposed “new players” as they had been set up as, courtesy of his newest associate from L'Oubliette nightclub. Unveiling hidden locales, surveillance, undercover intel, and spreading of information amongst those that needed to know of it, all of this was a breeze for Trent Simons. And all of this was an irresistible treat for a dark and brooding detective like Batman. Every piece laid out just so, every scrap of info and planted evidence right where the Bat would be skulking and snooping about, just within reach, within earshot. As expected, Bruce took to the bait like a fly to honey, and was now tailing the Red Hood in his suped-up sports car turned tank, blissful and ignorant in his belief that he had foiled the masked crime boss's grand master plan and had him on the run, simply because he was currently doing the chasing and Hood was doing the escaping. The powerful hum of the motorcycle growling loudly beneath him as he sped through the streets of Hell's Kitchen, zooming through crowded intersections and weaving between jammed up cars in the midst of their own impatient chariot races, the Batmobile just barely grazing his tailpipe to run him down. If Bruce hadn't already proven himself to be still stuck in his antiquated, lily livered ideals, Jason might have thought for a split second that Batman was actually trying to kill him right now. Hm...the minigun attachments are new. I'd voice my approval if they weren't aiming straight for my ass right now. he mused with an unseen smirk as he swerved sharply out of the path of the spraying anti-riot rounds, several of them grazing his arm and a few hitting dead into his shoulder. Jason grimaced and ground his teeth in dull pain as he rounded the next corner, his bike practically gliding between the gunfire as if they were raindrops, his fingers gripping tightly against the handles until his knuckles turned white. He chanced a glance behind him towards the impending vehicular manslaughter approaching, the shots slicing and punching visible tears against his jacket, with small patches of blood seeping where he was struck in the arm, though the Kevlar armor he wore beneath soaked up most of the damage as he picked up the speed and continued drawing the Bat's attention.  The EMP device crackled and sputtered with power, sending out a warning of the impending electrical blast about to be unleashed, and Red Hood realized he only had seconds to figure out his next move. Batman certainly carried a lot of fun toys and gadgets, but some of these were downright dangerous to be blasting around in a crowded and tight city street like this, especially for the sake of catching one man. And that one man wasn't even the murderous painted psychopath he should be after, that he should have taken down a long time ago. But no matter. Batman was not going to be his or anyone's headache anymore, and the Joker would be the next head he'd collect. In a deft and suddenly acrobatic motion, he pushed his weight against the handles and hopped his feet up on top of the seat of the speeding bike, just as the blast exploded forth from the car behind him. Just as the electrical pulses connected with the motorcycle, Jason leaped off the bike backwards and glided through the air with his arms outstretched, as if he were drifting on his back down an unseen river, before twisting his body midair and landing hard upon the roof of the vehicle.
“You went through a hell of a lot of trouble to find me, Bruce!” Red Hood called out over the cacophony of the roaring engine, clutching desperately to the swiveling turret that was still raining rubber bullets at nothing in particular just above his head. “I guess there's a first time for everything!” If he was anything like Jason knew from his own world, Bruce would never let his hands be sullied by letting Hood get killed atop his precious vehicle, likely to either slow down or stop the car completely, and Jason was counting on those foolish morals to force his former partner's hand. For now, he just had to hold on. BATMAN Hush (for brief mention)
|
|
I am vengeance, I am the night, I am BATMAN!
Moderator
|
Post by BATMAN on Jul 22, 2017 22:44:20 GMT
 This Red Hood character bothered Batman. The memories he drudged up, events he had slammed the door shut on lest he be consumed by the fiery rage that surged up out of the void every time he thought of his fallen sidekick, once more threatened to wash over him like a tidal wave. Despite his best efforts to focus on the task at hand, the man reminded him of Jason Todd and not just because of the way he moved. Given time, proper instruction, and discipline anyone could achieve the same level of physical and combat prowess that the former Robin or even the Batman himself had. The Red Hood was of similar build to his lost protégé, he countered his maneuvers as only someone who knew his methodology would, and used tools that appeared to be similar to his own if only with a darker edge and intent. These similarities however were not what bothered him. What disturbed the Dark Knight more than anything was the aspect of the Red Hood that most reminded him of Jason, an attribute that made Jason unpredictable, but had also meant he’d never reach the same level as Dick Grayson or even Tim Drake. He had a reckless streak a mile long and a darkness in him blacker than the Batcave’s inner depths. He’d hidden it behind jokes, insults, and bravado in much the way Nightwing did, but all too often that recklessness would surface at the most unexpected times. It was a distraction from the mission, forcing Batman to worry about Todd’s survival because he decided to improvise rather than stick to the mission. When it was not going off script that had been the issue it was sticking to it, but doing it his way. His way meant using that darkness built up inside him and unleashing it on a thug when minimal force would have been adequate. Such events had bothered Batman back then. He would scold Jason, keep him from going on patrol while he focused on learning discipline and restraint, and would in the end make excuses for him. He had a bad childhood, he was a good kid in a bad situation, he would outgrow it. All of these and more had been uttered time and again, both to himself and to Alfred. In the end, Jason was not Dick Grayson. His motivations were different, his upbringing and family life pre-Batman was drastically different, and Bruce didn’t see it until it was too late. Jason Todd was smart, strong, and wanted to be good, but he should never have been Robin. Bruce’s own fears of having messed up with and isolated Dick Grayson led to him giving training to someone who needed to work through their own issues in a way that didn’t involve punching goons in dark alleys and going up against maniacs like The Joker. He’d essentially taken a loaded gun and helped cock the trigger. Had he survived his final encounter with the Clown Prince of Crime, he was fairly certain Jason would one day have become the next person he had to take down. Someone not terribly different that this Red Hood. That was what worried him the most about Red Hood. Just in the short time since he’d first encountered him, Batman noticed that the helmeted vigilante had that same reckless abandon he’d seen too late in Todd. He allowed passion to override his better judgment at times. This put himself at risk certainly, but it also made him unpredictable. Unpredictable such as how he’d just leapt onto the Batmobile while it was going at speeds greater than a NASCAR vehicle could achieve. The action was damn near suicidal. Not knowing Batman, the fool could have been signing his death warrant and if it were anyone else, he likely would have. As was, Batman couldn’t trigger the electrical countermeasure that covered the car or the Hood would be first electrocuted and then flung from the vehicle, possibly to be run over beneath it. He couldn’t hit the brakes or the Red Hood would go flying, skidding across the road and unless he was a Neo-Human with powers he’d yet to display, he wouldn’t survive, body armor or not. It left the Caped Crusader with only one real option.  Flipping a switch he deployed the parachute meant to help slow the car while carefully decreasing the acceleration. All of this was happening while dodging cars parked along the side of the street and the occasional pedestrian crossing. Each adjustment of the wheel threatened to throw his unwelcome passenger from the vehicle…or to flip the Batmobile over, sending it hurtling into potential innocent victims like a missile. The entire car was essentially a step away from being a death machine, a maneuverable rocket capable of blowing up at even the slightest miscalculation. It was a risk he lived with, but when others were the ones on the line he couldn’t take that chance. Deceleration began, slowly considering the speeds at which he was traveling, but from the looks of things the would be car surfer was going to have to be dealt with on the ground…assuming he didn’t still fly from the vehicle to his death. Red Hood
|
|
Joker made me hate you. But you let him do it.
|
Post by Red Hood on Jul 28, 2017 3:08:42 GMT
A strong whoosh exploded from behind the car as Batman did exactly as Red Hood predicted he would and deployed methods to slow down the screaming deathtrap of a vehicle, preventing the very quick and messy demise anyone else in this position would have remorselessly let happen. Any other masked maniac would have gladly allowed him to be flayed alive against the streets and trampled underneath their wheels, but Jason was not concerned in the least, knowing exactly who it was behind that dark cowl, and knowing that, as an enemy, there was no safer place than in the presence of the big, bad Bat. Too bad the same couldn't be said of his allies. Despite the Caped Crusader's reputation as the dark demon of Gotham, an urban legend whispered among criminals in the night, the most dreaded fear in the hearts of men who stalk the darkened city streets, Bruce Wayne was still only a man, a very flawed, broken, predictable man, who held the lives of the cruel and the wicked as more dear than those he considered friend or family. Where others saw a monster, Jason instead saw a shattered idol, a broken pillar to that which he thought was the ultimate ideal of a protector, now crumbled down to nothing but the bare, awful truth. Jason had been molded into a product of that truth, tempered by pain, betrayal, and wrought iron. Every calculated step, every swoop of leather, every unexpected encounter with his former partner, whether real or imagined, pushed upon his urge to show Bruce exactly what his forced ideals of mercy had created. To prove that this bizarre thought pattern that criminals are motivated by fear alone, and would always scatter like headless chickens at empty threats was merely the fantasies of a raving lunatic. To force him to look upon the boy beneath the red hood that had been left behind to pick up the pieces of that broken ideology. And then end his trail of stolen hearts and broken promises, permanently, the memory of the child he left to die the last thing he would remember before the light faded from his eyes. Clutching tightly to the turret still wildly spinning and shooting rubber rounds in every direction, the speed of the car continued to decrease as it swerved every which way, finally slowing enough for Red Hood to take out a little extra insurance on his victory this evening. He pushed himself backwards along the sleek roof into a roll towards the back end of the vehicle and grabbed hold to the pointed spoiler jutting just above the jet turbine. A BatSpoiler, no doubt...good thing Bruce keeps everything he owns to that ridiculous bat theme, otherwise this would be so much harder to pull off, he mused as he pressed his boots against where the bumper would be on a normal car, forcing the whole of his weight against it for support, one hand knuckle-white around the spoiler as the other reached into a pocket inside his jacket to reveal a thick, plastic disk, about the size of a large hockey puck, flashing a tiny light in warning.
“How about few fireworks to celebrate this happy reunion?” Jason muttered bitterly, leaning as far down as his spine would allow without falling into the speeding pavement below and swooped the plastic explosive underneath the car where the fuel lines would be located with a quick and well-timed toss. A loud clack of magnet on metal assured that Red Hood's little gift was securely in place, and he quickly grabbed hold of the spoiler with his now freed hand to regain his balance, taking a few deep breaths to keep his mind focused on the task at hand, the passing surroundings growing ever slower as the powerful car continued to bring itself to a stop. With a final, deeper inhale and a concentrated furrow of his brow, Red Hood released one hand from the car again to grab the grapple gun upon his belt, and fired it off towards one of the nearby buildings, the claw snatching tightly against a higher story's fire escape. The chain attached to the hook grew taut and suddenly began to reel in, sending the crimson helmed vigilante in a skyward ascent from the back of the soon-to-be scrapped Batmobile. Just before reaching the end of the chain, Red Hood used the forward momentum to propel forward and leap higher, pulling himself onto the top of the fire escape railing rather than leave himself dangling helplessly below it, and climbed effortlessly to the top of the roof. Barely a moment to catch his breath, he leaned over the ledge as the doomed car zoomed past far below, running his thumb over a small detonation device in his palm. This is it...this is nothing more than you deserve Bruce...you have no place in this new world, just as I had no place in the old one we came from. And yet, despite his assumed resolve, he hesitated, frozen in this moment that would change the direction of fate for Jason Todd. “My god, he can't even recognize you for who you are... he doesn't even remember your voice... worlds greatest detective indeed..." Was this really the closure he needed? Would this heal the hurt he had endured for so long?
What's wrong? Do you think I'm going to hurt you? Why? I'm not the bad one here...oh no no no. It's Batman. He's abandoned you. Thrown you away like an unwanted puppy.”Was this really the best way to end all the pain and heartache he had suffered? The best way to gain his freedom from the past and escape Gotham's gravity? His hand shaking over the trigger, Jason closed his eyes. “It's the only way.”
Click. BATMAN
|
|
I am vengeance, I am the night, I am BATMAN!
Moderator
|
Post by BATMAN on Aug 6, 2017 11:34:09 GMT
 For a moment the world seemed to go in slow motion as Batman watched the Red Hood use his own methods against him. Between the crisp, fluid movements that could only be accomplished via years of intense practice and the fact that he clearly knew exactly what he needed to do to disable the Batmobile, Bruce couldn't deny the cold pit growing in his stomach. The Batmobile was a death trap on wheels at the best of times and at least the Hood seemed intent on keeping collateral damage to a minimum, but that cold feeling was not fear in the traditional sense. It was a revelation, a near confirmation, of a suspicion that had been growing ever since the Red Hood had shown up. Whether it was his reaction to Joker, his anger over Batman's insinuation that he was this world's version of the clown, or the fact that he seemed to have intimate knowledge of Batman and how he operated, he couldn't say. Deep in his gut though he knew the truth if not the specifics. This man knew him. Perhaps this world lacked a Batman but he knew from experience others did not and he was almost certain that Red Hood knew at least a Batman. This Red Hood had been trained by a Batman very much like him. He moved, fought, and operated as only someone Batman had let close and personally taught would know. It had to be one of the Robins, one of his soldiers, one of his...sons. Alternate dimension or not, this is still my responsibility, he thought. This theoretical other me isn't here. Unless...He couldn't bring himself to finish the thought and besides, he had more pressing matters to attend to. Such as the explosive now registering on the dashboard display. It had been placed in exactly the right spot to blow the car sky high and that it did. A rush of fire and a deafening boom ripped apart the thruster, sent the car into the air twisting as the wings fell away and molten scrap hit the street, and forcing Batman to hit the button that sent his entire chair rocketing from the cockpit.  Still in the air, lucky he'd not been hit on a rotation of the vehicle, he released the strap holding him in the chair and fired the batclaw at a nearby building. Zipping towards a rooftop before the ejector seat's parachute even had a chance to go off, Batman felt his shoulder burning with pain as he clipped the edge and rolled into a crouch atop the building. Illuminated by the glow from the fiery wreckage of the one thing he'd managed to bring with him from his home, the Dark Knight stared across the distance, his shadow spreading like a demon of darkness. Whether you are Dick from another world, a Tim that was led astray after the death of his father, or even someone I've never met but another me has, this ends now, Batman thought as he fired off another grapple line, still unable to bring himself to even think that it could be the soldier he'd lost... Red Hood
|
|
Joker made me hate you. But you let him do it.
|
Post by Red Hood on Sept 8, 2017 2:53:31 GMT
The fiery wreckage that lit up the streets below in a warm glow of destruction went up in beautiful blasts and sparks, but if that was enough to put an end to the Batman, this shoddy interpretation of the Dark Knight would be laughable at best and aggravatingly disappointing at worst. Red Hood smirked impishly behind his scarlet helmet at the sight of the front driver's seat propelling itself from the car and straight into the air. This was definitely Batman – freakishly prepared for any situation to a fault. Too bad he made sure to drill the same obsessive attention to detail into his little toy soldiers as well, or else Bruce might have succeeded in giving him the slip and making a grand escape. No, no, Jason was waiting for the Bat's next move, anticipating his ease of escape from the bomb he planted onto his precious car. Now the playing field was even, armed with only the gadgets they were both able to carry and a huge chip on both of their shoulders. Though perhaps not entirely even – Red Hood still held all the cards, knowing exactly the face of the man behind that dark cowl, while Bruce fumbled in ignorance of what was under his own. He watched the man he once called a partner and a father land with his usual grace upon the rooftop, the dark silhouette of the urban legend himself stretching menacingly in the flames behind him, but Jason merely stared him down, tossing a dark bladed blade with frightening speed and precision towards the grapple line to cut through it and halt his movements. “Stay where you are, Bruce,” Red Hood commanded, aiming what appeared to be a laser pointer at the Caped Crusader's feet as he approached, the blue light at the tip of it glowing brightly as he activated it, creating a shimmering strip of frozen chemical across the rooftop. “You left this behind the last time we met.* If you wanted it back so badly, you could have just asked.” A bitter laugh echoed from behind his helmet. “Or perhaps there was a different reason you're chasing me down? After all, I'm sure there are others more worthy of your attention in this town. Nigma, perhaps? Quinn? Joker? Stop me if I guess it.”
*At the end of Clowns to the Left of Me
BATMAN
|
|
I am vengeance, I am the night, I am BATMAN!
Moderator
|
Post by BATMAN on Sept 13, 2017 3:35:45 GMT
 With the chord cut the head of the grapple fell to the rooftop, the clanging of the metal head as it fell on the rooftop ominous as the Dark Knight stared down his prey. He listened without comment as the Red Hood spoke, the shadows cast from the fiery wreckage of the Batmobile below stretching across the rooftop, dancing between them, disrupted only by the glow of the icy weapon now pointed at his feet. “Now that the clown is in this world Quinn’s criminal empire is likely to become his empire. After all the work you’ve done to carve out a piece of that pie for yourself, I can’t imagine you are going to let that go. Joker will go to war with you in a way Harley never would and countless will be killed in the crossfire,” Batman explained. “Right now you are the one here and I’m going to curtail this gang war before it begins. That means you go down so that I can focus on the real problems."As he spoke the cowl continued taking footage, comparing his movements with the limited backup database he’d been able to salvage before the cave fell in on itself, the results causing Batman’s stomach to feel as if it were falling. The white lenses of the cowl met the slots of the red helmet. “No more games Hood. You hate me more than you do Harley, more than you hate the Joker? Fine. The clowns are not here, your thugs are not here, and there are no hostages. It’s just the two of us. I don’t know if you are someone I trained, some parallel world’s version of Dick or Tim or if the Batman you know let you down in some way, but I do know I’m going to stop you like he should have. Besides…” The bones in his left hand cracked loudly as he curled it into a fist. “You don’t mess with a man’s car,” he said, extended right hand waving him over in a ‘bring it’ motion. Red Hood
|
|
Joker made me hate you. But you let him do it.
|
Post by Red Hood on Sept 15, 2017 3:14:29 GMT
“You had the clown!” Red Hood argued, his voice carrying a spiteful venom in its timbre. “He was right there, and we could have put an end to his reign of terror before it even began. But you let him go! You always let him go, Bruce, to kill and maim and torture once again, no matter who he hurts, no matter what he takes, no matter how many times that ridiculous morality of yours bites you in the ass!” He sneered under his helmet, clapping a small explosive the size of a thumb drive to the freeze ray. “Well no more. Not again. I'm the only one that will stop the Joker. Permanently. We both know you won't. Otherwise he'd not be standing above ground right now in my city. I aim to fix that. And I'll be sure to fix you too, if you don't high-tail it out of here tonight.” With a flick of his wrist, as if throwing a frisbee, the explosive flew from Jason's fingers towards Batman, pinging menacingly faster and high-pitched in the air before bursting in a controlled rupture of flame and loud crackling as it detonated. Anticipating a dodge or block with one of his infinite fancy gadgets, Jason instead used the momentary distraction to rush forward and slide in a strong kick along the frozen agent sprayed between them, aiming to trip Batman up from below with a spinning leg sweep. “Dick? Tim? You think I'm your good little runaway lapdog? Or the new toy you picked up to forget how badly you screwed up?!” He shifted his movements to roll forward and bounce from his hands back into another slam of his boots towards the Dark Knight's jaw. “Try again, Detective! There's precious few options left!” Back on his feet again, Red Hood fiercely swung his fists at the older man's face a few times, dodging and weaving between return blows like an angry viper. “You wipe me from the records, Bruce? Pretend that mistake was never made? Or did I simply not exist in the world you came from?” Another punch came forward, followed by the fling of a dark knife that pinned the Crusader's cape against the concrete at their feet. “I guess a lot of things he said...held more truth than I realized...how do you hide something from the World's Greatest Detective?” Jason shot his grapnel gun upwards, hooking it to the edge of the next building's nearest fire escape, and swooped upwards, running along the wall and flipping backwards to build his momentum. Another blade danced in between his fingers as he came back down to earth, readying his next strike upon the Bat. “Put it right underneath his pointy nose!” BATMAN
|
|
I am vengeance, I am the night, I am BATMAN!
Moderator
|
Post by BATMAN on Sept 15, 2017 4:15:41 GMT
 Listening to his words and the pure rage and hatred within them, Batman was almost certain his worst fears were about to come true, that the man in the red helmet was not some alternate version of one of his protégés but instead was the soldier he knew to be dead. The sidekick he lost. The son he failed. As he attempted side stepping the blast, pulling his cape around himself in an attempt to shield his body from the worst of the blast he fought back the emotions threatening to boil up. Once, not so long ago, he had dared to hope, to dream an impossible dream. He’d nearly believed it, that Jason Todd had returned from the grave, that he’d been given a second chance to save him. But that ember of hope was stamped out when it turned out to be nothing but another mind game in the long list of sadistic tricks Hush had pulled while trying to bring him down. It was not Jason then, but Clayface using his form. This seemed different, but in a world he didn’t understand he couldn’t take feelings as fact. It could be a trick, and illusion, something other than what he actually wanted: his son alive. The distraction of the past cost the Dark Knight. Before he had even manage to recover from the shockwave of the blast, Red Hood slid in, the ice carrying him faster. Standing half crouched, legs already not steadied, Batman was unable to react in time as Hood’s foot lashed out, catching him in the ankles and toppling him. A kip-up brought Batman back to his feet, barely allowing him time to block an incoming kick that could have dislocated his jaw if not knocked him out. The Caped Crusader was not as lucky with the onslaught of haymakers that followed, blocking only every other one as hammering blows bruised and battered his body. A knife flashed and while it missed him it struck it’s intended target, pinning his cape. A single misstep back onto the icy substance, combined with the sudden tautness of the pinned cape, caused him to fall backwards with enough force to knock the air from his lungs. Looking up from where he fell Batman saw Red Hood, the man who may be his son back from the dead, airborne and heading straight for him, blade in hand. Red Hood
|
|
"We are Venom. We know the evil that men do!"
|
Post by Venom on Sept 17, 2017 4:07:59 GMT
 As teacher and student, father and son battled one another, each in the dark about the true thoughts of the other, the weather shifted. It was as if the heavens themselves wept for the tragedy taking place upon that rooftop, a freezing downpour tears from above, the roar of thunder a shout of anguish. For a long moment it seemed as if time stood still, the airborne Red Hood ready to deliver a finishing blow to his one time mentor. Ironic that the Dark Knight's end should be punctuated by a blinding flash of lightning overhead... That lightning however would reveal something else in the darkness, something every bit the monster that the Batman attempted to portray himself as, something darker still than the Caped Crusader could ever hope to be. The dark thing smiled as a tendril whipped out and caught Red Hood around an ankle, the fanged mouth opening on its end attempting to bite through the material of his boot as it roughly pulled him down and to the side, tossing him about with great force. Venom, crouched between two of the nearby buildings smiled, teeth seemingly wrapping around his head as he lowered himself to the rooftop. Tendril flowing back into the whole, Venom clapped slowly as if he were a spectator at a golf tournament. "Why Little Red Riding Hood, we've been looking for you for so long we thought we'd never get the chance for a face-to-face!"
Venom declared cheerfully. "Why the very night of our arrival we encountered some of your thugs followed shortly thereafter by the clown girl's minions. Those events got us caught up on the who and what of our new surroundings."Raising a hand to his mouth as if blocking Red Hood from hearing he looked at Batman and in a lower pitch said, "Between us? Crazy brains taste funny as you would expect from people that dress like jesters, but this one's mooks had the distinct taste of drugs, and well we saw the whole egg and frying pan commercial as a young lad. We consider this a public service announcement of our own."Marching over to Red Hood Venom placed his clawed foot into the middle of his back as he knelt down, massive hand cupping the helmet as he pressed him down into the rooftop. "We applaud your willingness to deal with bangers and dealers in a more permanent manner. But you don't wish to eliminate the disease, to cut out the cancer, you simply think yourself able to control it, to be the new carrier of the sickness. And for that reason, for your role in harming innocents, we are going to have to find out if this fancy can is twist top or pull tab."
Turning Red Hood over to face him, one hand strong enough to do so, Venom made sure to show as many teeth as possible, mouth seemingly expanding to fit even more in it. "We know, we know Little Red Riding Hood. This is the part where you go, 'But Venom! What big teeth you have!" the symbiote announced, laughing manically. "All the better to eat you with my dear!"
Red Hood
|
|
Joker made me hate you. But you let him do it.
|
Post by Red Hood on Sept 21, 2017 4:05:52 GMT
Lightning creased erratically across the hazy city skyline, followed by a long, rolling crash of thunder as Red Hood came down upon his prone target below. This was it. All it would take was a well timed landing, a simple flick of his knife, and this pointy-eared pain in his ass would be out of his life. Again. Forever, this time. No more what ifs, no more agonizing reunions, or heartbreaking truths come to light. Whatever Bruce had kept close to his chest would remained pinned there with steel, never to see the light of day. If anything, he was providing one final service to the old Bat, before the fallen squire would rise to the rank of knight himself in the wake of his mentor's foolish demise. But as gravity pulled him towards that moment of vengeance he sought, several thoughts flashed through his mind with each strike of lightning that illuminated the darkened sky behind him like a halo. Is this how it really ends? No way it could be this simple. This is the goddamned Batman. Silencing him...would stop the laughing...right? Don't hesitate. Do what he can't. Each armor-piercing thought flowed through Jason's veins in near slow motion, the clown's maniacal laughter echoing throughout each one as the sky finally opened up in tearful punctuation. The pavement below became spotted with new rain, already washing away the sin of his father laid out to accept his end with the next crash of thunder. The fallen Robin couldn't afford to change his mind now. Jason drew in closer to his mark, just barely making out the detail of Batman's cowl, when a dark cord suddenly began to wrap about his leg. How did he...? he mentally gasped, instinctively shifting his position to slice his blade through the line just before it went taut, only to find that the steel only glided through the tar-like, gelatinous substance. “What the--?!” he started, only for a shout of shock and pain to replace the words in his mouth, as what he thought was a grappling hook pierced an unexpected maw of jagged teeth directly through his boot and into his foot. Before he could even react, Red Hood found himself whipped higher up than he initially jumped from, tethered to a long inky black tendril that brought him back to earth even faster with a powerful slam of his back against a wall of brick. The wind knocked out of him and his brain rattling from the crack to the cranium his helmet took the brunt of, Red Hood fell to the ground with a weakened groan, unsure where he had gone just then or even what had rightfully happened. His vision blurred in and out at the image of the black and white humanoid shape that revealed itself from the shadows, pushing up on his hands and knees to upright himself once again as this... thing slinked up close to him and slammed him right back to the ground with what was assumed to be a foot. It's taunting voice, like echoing whispers of two men speaking at once with an eerie, sibilant hiss in the back of its throat, resounded more clearly through the fresh cracks in his mask, the weight of it crushing into his spine far more than a creature of its size should have. Jason struggled against the creature's hold on him, its enlarged clawed fingers gripping over his eyes with the intent to tear his head off from the chin, his teeth gnashing together as he attempted his fruitless escape, only to be flipped over onto his back as if he weighed nothing. Red Hood's eyes widened in horror at the miles and miles of razor sharp teeth he now was forced to look into, the color draining from his face in a level of fear he hadn't felt since his first night alone with the Joker. “What the hell is this thing?!” he screamed out, reaching for his sidearm and firing several rounds into the beast's massive form. He had to be dreaming. This whole night...all of it...it all had to be a dream. Just a bad dream. All he had to do was wake up. Just wake up now, and pray that he was still in New York...and not back in Gotham City, far underground in Arkham Asylum. “Just wake up....please wake up...” Jason repeated over and over again under his breath, firing his gun with each repetition until it was emptied. BATMAN
|
|
I am vengeance, I am the night, I am BATMAN!
Moderator
|
Post by BATMAN on Nov 30, 2017 0:13:53 GMT
 The Light Times. That was what Alfred had called them, though Bruce wasn’t convinced there was ever a time that his crusade hadn’t been drowned in darkness and shadow. Still, he had to admit that in those early days, after the depression he had sank into following Dick’s departure, Jason Todd’s arrival in his life had been a welcome distraction. He wasn’t Dick and never would be, but the mid-battle quips and presence of youth that still had hope helped keep Bruce grounded. Acting as a father to the street smart boy had lightened the heavy burden that came with being the Batman. Things were still violent and dangerous, there was no getting away from that when you were a vigilante, but Jason was a good reason to crack the occasional joke, to smile, and to not get lost in the Bat. Whether or not this Red Hood really was Jason, his or an alternate universe’s version, Batman didn’t know. He was filled with rage and hatred, he used guns the very thing he had taught Jason were the weapon of the enemy. He didn't think that his Jason could go this far, could actually take a life, but he knew all too well that people can change and not always for the better. As Joker had once told him all it takes is one bad day. Still it was too early to tell, there was still too much work to do in order to confirm his identity one way or the other. That hard, concrete, indisputable evidence however didn’t change what Bruce felt as the shadowy monstrosity made of tendrils and teeth descended on the Red Hood. It was the same jolt of anger, fear, and panic he felt the day he realized Jason was captured by the Joker. His son was in mortal danger. The last time he was too late, but now? Now the Batman was right here and able to do something about it. Struggling to dislodge the knife pinning his cape, he watched as Red Hood emptied his gun into the thing’s face, seemingly to no effect. Angrily pulling the knife away, shredding his cape in the process, Batman rolled to his feet. Pulling batarangs from his utility belt he sent three of them spiraling towards the creature, but like something out of Lovecraft it spontaneously grew more tendrils that snatched them from the air. Having anticipated just such a move Batman had followed it up by firing the Batclaw at the thing’s leg, snaring it. Pulling with all his strength he barely managed to budge the creature, but it was just enough to make it release its grip on Red Hood. “Enough!” Batman spat as the teeth filled maw turned towards him. Stopping this monster from killing Red Hood would never make up for his greatest failure, it would never reverse the evil the Clown Prince of Crime had visited upon Jason or the Bat Family with his murder of the Boy Wonder, and it wouldn't bring back the Light Times. But it was a start. Red Hood
|
|
"We are Venom. We know the evil that men do!"
|
Post by Venom on Nov 30, 2017 0:41:45 GMT
 Venom was savoring the kill. The Red Hood had cut a swathe of violence across New York. His war with Harley Quinn had left countless dead. Considering they were all criminals Venom didn’t really care. The more he learned about the Red Hood the more he felt something of a kindred spirit with the helmeted vigilante. But we were wrong. He’s not like us, not a lethal protector. He kills the bad guys, but he picks and chooses. He doesn’t eradicate those who harm innocents, he takes control of crime as if he can manipulate it for his own ends. He takes a cut while still letting his lieutenants sell their poison. He may have rules about children, but children are not the only innocents out there, he thought. Just another piece of scum in need of a good, painful killing.Eddie Brock had seen firsthand what drugs did to people. Great men were brought low, friends died alone in gutters, and the poisons spread like a sickness bringing pain to junkie and family alike. Then there were the guns. Red Hood seized control of gun shipments in his battle to seize The Big Apple from the clown girl. He may not kill kids, but the guns he put in the hands of his lackeys would be used. A Hood gangbanger could shoot one of Quinn’s fools and the all manner of innocent life could be snuffed out in the crossfire. No, Red Hood was not a hero, not a protector. He was a variant of the disease, a cancer on society. And cancer needed to be cut out. Before he could go about excising this particular evil cyst, the man in black had freed himself and tossed something at him. His Other reacted instantly, swiping the weapons out of the air. “Cute boomerangs, but we are not here to play. This trash is your enemy. We have watched while you battled across the city. So stand down Masked Mouse while we handle this for you. Interfere again and we will have to see if there are brains worth snacking on between those pointed ears.” Venom warned. Before he could finish his warning however, Batman’s grappling device had snared his leg and pulled him ever so slightly away from the Red Hood. Angrily a pseudopod reached down and tore through the cable, the claw clanging loudly down to the rooftop. The tension cable, made of some sort of specialized flexible metal was strong, strong enough to hoist vehicles, but the symbiote tore threw it like a hot knife through butter. Angrily Venom grasped Red Hood’s ankle and flung him across the way, aiming to hit the pointy eared vigilante with the suped up biker.
“Last warning freak. We don’t know who or what you think you are, Mouse Man, Doberman Guy, or whatever that getup is supposed to be, but we are going to peel this murderous scum out of his tin can. Don’t make us make you the appetizer!”
Red Hood
|
|
Joker made me hate you. But you let him do it.
|
Post by Red Hood on Dec 14, 2017 5:31:11 GMT
The sound and sensation of Venom's slobbering prehensile tongue over the nape of his neck and along his back sent disgusted shivers down Red Hood's spine as he attempted to thrash and scramble away from the hideous monster tearing at his helmet. The weight of this thing was intense, crunching ever harder into his bone and muscle crack by agonizing pop, but still he shoved his own weight up to knock it off of him, finding it a struggle to even breathe with it pressing everything it had against his lungs and ripping its claws against his throat. After everything he had lived through, everything he had defied against, everything he had survived, Jason never thought that this was how he was going to finally be put down. No...god no...not in front of him. I escaped the Joker without your help, Bruce, and I sure as hell don't want your help now! Tightening his jaw and using all his strength, he pressed upwards on his arms against the ground, trying to twist his head the opposite direction that the alien monster was was trying to force it, when suddenly the rapid telltale clackering of the BatClaw shooting past his ear and latching onto a weight point drew his attention, along with the gruff shout of his mentor's voice calling into the fray. A gasp of air shot into Jason's chest as Batman managed to pull the tethered creature's leg off of him, sharp pain from the cracks and bruising following just as quickly as he started to pull himself along the ground away from it. Red Hood's flight was short lived, unfortunately, as Venom was far from done playing with its meal, despite the interruption from the Caped Crusader, snatching the vigilante by the ankle and sharply snapping him against the air like the end of a bullwhip. Jason heard the sickening pop of the joint ripping out of place before the pain and rush of vertigo took over the bulk of his senses as wind tousled wildly through his hair. *** Strong arms caught hold of him mid-flight, wrapping tightly and protectively around him as both skidded to a stop. Jason opened his clamped shut eyes and looked up at Batman with a wide grin. “You didn't have to go and catch me like that, old man! I always land on my feet! You know that!”
Batman's stony, somewhat concerned expression cracked just a tiny bit as the corner of his mouth raised upwards, only to shout out a warning and leap to the left, as his ward made a similar jump to the right in tandem, just in time for a heavy stone structure to slam down where they once stood. Grapple lines shot upward from two directions, and the Dynamic Duo reconvened in the rafters above where the terrifying Clayface was smashing and swiping his mud-like tendrils about to take them both down.
“Dammit, he's really playing dirty this time!” Jason chirped to his partner, shifting his shoulders for his cape to lay more comfortably upon them.
“And he won't hesitate to kill you if you rush in like that again. Listen carefully, Robin, Clayface isn't like anyone you've faced with me before. His body structure is tangible, able to change its weight, size, density, and reach at will.”
Robin narrowed his eyes behind his domino mask in thought. “When he threw me, it was like he didn't have any bones at all. It was all just...gunk. How do you take down a guy you can't actually hit?”
“We'll need to find a water source, but we'll also need to slow him down in order to get in a proper strike. Clayface may not have bones or organs, but a concussive blast should still do the trick. Knock him off balance. Give us the advantage.”
“Oh! I get it!” Robin exclaimed with a cocky grin and a snap of his fingers. “A classic case of the bigger they are, the harder they fall!”
***With a swift and hard slam, Red Hood collided with his former partner and grimaced upon impact, quickly regaining his bearings and roughly shoving Bruce away from him. “You could've just let that thing do your dirty work for you, you know,” he snapped, bitterness dripping from his words like poison as he rubbed away the remnant sensation of Venom's claws tearing at his neck. Ignoring the sprain in his ankle with a gnash of teeth, Jason quickly pulled three explosives off his belt, each one pinging and flashing out of sync with one another. This black tar-like creature was certainly nothing like anything that he had fought or even really seen before, as Robin or as Red Hood, but the goopy, shifting structure of the body and similar fluidity to the Clayface he had faced as a child in his home world gave him a spark of hope that the principle would still be the same. Knock it off balance – find an advantage. “Bigger they are, harder they fall,” he murmured with amusement, hucking the bombs at the creature with aimed precision, straight for its gaping maw of shark teeth. BATMAN Venom
|
|
I am vengeance, I am the night, I am BATMAN!
Moderator
|
Post by BATMAN on Dec 26, 2017 18:36:07 GMT
The fanged monster had used the Red Hood as a projectile. The helmeted vigilante had soared through the air, colliding with Batman and sending both men to the floor in a pile of intertwined limbs. The movement of the creature was so fast that he couldn’t have avoided the man turned projectile or so he tried to convince himself. The alternative was that he’d purposefully allowed the thrown Red Hood to slam into him in an attempt to cushion the man’s impact. If that was the case, it meant that some part of him was actually entertaining the notion that Red Hood truly was who he hinted at being. It would mean emotion and the desire to have his former Robin back amongst the land of the living had overruled the common sense and logic he was known for. An unnecessary risk that could have ended very differently, with him severely injured or dead, both of which meant he’d of been unable to stop the creature from killing Red Hood. The very fact that you are even questioning this means you are compromised, he thought. It means Hood has succeeded in getting under your skin and has you second guessing your actions.If indeed that was what had occurred Batman was angry with himself because he knew better. Jason Todd’s memory had been evoked to throw him off balance before, back when Hush and Clayface had teamed up to take the Dark Knight down. For all he knew that could be the same thing happening now. But the fact was this Red Hood knew things he shouldn’t including the identities of Batman’s other allies. Bruce knew all too well that there could be an explanation far more logical than the dead returning to life, but he couldn’t deny that he truly wished for Todd to still be alive, that he could right his biggest failure. There was not time to dwell on the issue however. Emotionally compromised or not, Venom as the creature had called itself was still a danger. Red Hood was injured thus making him easy prey for the monster, but even if Hood could defeat Venom with the arsenal he seemed to carry, the risk of the battle spilling onto the streets and placing innocent people in the crossfire was too great. Psychoanalyze later, focus now. Regaining his feet, Batman’s lip curled as the Red Hood produced several explosives and launched them at Venom. The man’s blatant disregard for life had already been showcased when he attacked the Batmobile, but to so casually toss around deadly weapons angered the Dark Knight. His concern however was short lived as more oily tendrils snaked out and deflected the explosives before they hit the razor filled maw that passed for a mouth. One explosion went wide and exploded against a large electrical access box causing metal and sparks to fly. The second flew high and exploded in the air in a puff of smoke and fire. The third however hit home, detonating in Venom’s face. Switching vision modes in the cowl Batman saw through the smoke and noticed that Venom had indeed survived, but the creature responded strangely, recoiling from the blast as pseudopods and tendrils of varying sizes seemed to emerge at random, wiggling and writhing as if in pain. For the briefest of moments, Batman glimpsed pale human skin before the dark goo regrouped and surround it once more. There’s a man inside that thing. he thought. This was both a relief and a large concern. On one hand it meant the man inside the goo could be harmed where the teeth filled muck couldn’t, assuming he could force the dark oil to retreat again. On the other hand it meant Batman had to prevent Red Hood from killing Venom just as much as the reverse was true. Gritting his teeth through pain, his already injured shoulder damaged further by Hood colliding with him, Batman fired the Batclaw yet again. This time pressed a secondary button that rocketed him forward and straight toward Venom. As he lashed out with a kick he hoped the added momentum would be enough to knock the monster over or at least stun the thing…. 
|
|
Admin 
Admin 
Admin 
Mod 
