“I’m sure that we can make a concoction of cannabis to roll up for you, if you help me raid the place for supplies. I would love to see you tripping."
"We both know that this won’t happen. Do I have to remind you that the last time we’ve been to a bar I had to call Kori and help me drag you out? You can’t hold your liquor, Roy, how ironic is that.”
“Are you implying that I’m an ex-addict with a fix quota? Because you would be completely correct. I’m also sure that they have a large enough supply for the both of us, I can hook you up, Jaybird.”
"I’m not implying, I know. I might not have been exactly around but I did look you up. And Killer Croc spilled the beans before I busted your ass out of jail. Hook me up? Get me a good smoke and I’ll let you do whatever you want.”
Jason had been in the Hive for roughly three weeks now. It seemed like ages when he woke up, angry and frustrated, trying to make sense out of all that mess. Luckily he encountered someone who was able to check his helmet for him, and this time it was bomb free. No nasty acid surprises on his face, he was glad that he avoided that. However, his equipment was lost, his prized dagger, all the weapons that Talia personally gifted to him were gone, taken away from those who put him in that cage in first place.
He had been out of Arkham for quite some time, and to be brought somewhere else which reminded him of a prison didn’t do him well. He had more freedom, that was true, he had an apartment, he gained money fighting in that club. Getting beaten up, sure, but he maimed his opponents in return, there weren’t real rules. Besides, he was told that nobody died at that place; they just came back. Yeah, like he did. But he wouldn’t mention how horribly wrong that went for him, what he knew was that he would avoid that fake death in that city like the plague.
It was past midnight, and he figured out that the best way to get better weapons was to remove them from the passing shady characters in Sector 2. He was wearing his helmet, his face was well hidden as he stood in a dark alley, waiting until a tall man passed by, grabbing him, his gloved hands covering his mouth and pushing him against the brick wall. The man tried to protest of course, but Jason put the sharpened edge of his dagger against his neck.
“One wrong move, buddy, and my fingers might slip. You don’t want that now, do you?”, he asked as he used his knee to hit the man’s stomach. “Now tell me, do you have any weapons on you?”, he asked with a growling tone in his voice, removing a bit his hand from the man’s mouth.
“Fuck you! Get away from me, you bastard!”, the man shouted, but Jason pressed the dagger closer on the skin of his neck, smiling behind his helmet as the man whimpered when he spotted the red shape tainting the wood.
“I’ve seen enough people in this city to know that there’s a fair amount who could physically blast that smugness right out of you. Where do you get off acting all high and mighty, like that?”
“Of course you don’t. You don’t seem like you’d know a fun time if stripped to its underwear in front of you and danced the macarena. Wow, I feel so honoured, you’ve got no idea. Your presence is truly enlightening, it’s just a joy to be around you.”
"Nice overblown sense of supremacy you’ve got there, Jason.”
"Why won’t you direct them at me? The fight club’s good and all, but I’m dying to have some good competition out here on the streets. Can’t say. It’s all part of my charming personality, really. You can tell that I’m something else, can’t you?”
“Or that I might have more important things to do than watching strippers. That’s more of Harper’s thing, really. I’m glad that you agree, if only the sarcasm wasn’t as obvious in your tone, then we would be just dandy, sweetheart.”
“Another archer with an attitude problem? Great, just my luck.”
“Ooooh, o-kay. I see. You’re one of those grim, brooding types of guys, who thinks that he’s got some kinda edge over everyone else. I get it.”
"A fight club! See, that totally proves my point. You couldn’t just have a night out at like, a karaoke place or something? So, what, you only make an effort with people who look interesting? Whatever that means.”
"The name’s Kate Bishop! Hello.”
"I don’t think that, I know it. Have you seen the people in this city? I doubt that anyone from where I come from would fit in anyway.”
“I don’t sing. Exactly, why should I waste my time anyway? I’m talking to you now so you should take that as a compliment, I normally walk away after what, one, two sentences, but you seem interesting enough. Let’s see if we can keep this up.”
“Wasn’t asking you to join. Anyway, I could potentially do more. You know, get it back to how it was before and much more - nightvision, LED’s, sonar, radar, the works."
"But you’re not an Avenger so it’s not happening."
"I will upgrade it on my own anyway, I doubt that your tech or whatever can do better than that.”
“I hear those white coats are giving our stuff back anyway. Al Ghul gave me the best of the best and I’m going to have those bad boys back soon.”
“Then you have to make your own fun! You can’t just rely on other people to provide the entertainment all the time.”
“Get out and explore, or something. Talk to people. Make friends! Join an organisation, even. Just—as long as it’s a good one, and not some crackpot villain’s hideout.”
“I don’t rely on them to provide the entertainment to me, most of the times I just observe and have a good laugh at everyone else.”
“I’ve joined a fight club, that’s pretty fun if you ask me. You beat up a couple of cocky brutes and you’re all set for the night. Found a decent bar, but not many people peeked my interest. And you’re supposed to be who..?”
