Comfort Zone

Jason usually has a 'sixth sense' for the bad things; tonight, however...he can feel tonight may be a good night, even here in Gotham City. Okay, maybe one bad thing might sprout its ugly head, but tonight some good may come out to squash the bad one.

He had finished his job earlier than expected; the bastards that had been terrorizing Otisburg lately had been apprehended--not killed , which he would prefer them dead since those criminals have records that could fill a ten-volume encyclopedia collection--but decided against it, in favor of not angering the GCPD and putting another reason on the Red Hood's Wanted List. Sure, he gets his daily reminder from Oracle and Replacem-- Robin-- regarding how they need those thugs alive for interrogation behind GCPD bars, but sometimes, it's her face that pops into his head that makes him rethink on applying calm, rational action on the situation instead.

Speaking of her face, Jason could see her walking on the sidewalk across from where he stood, at the top of an old apartment roof. The job's done and he is going home now...

He rappels down the side of the building and, as quiet as a cat, lands on the alley between the apartment and a closing pawn shop. From across the shadowy alley, his girlfriend walks among other Gothamites, her light, brunette curls tied haphazardly in a bun. It looks like she had a long day.

The population is lower here in this particular suburb--and so is its crime rate--unlike the densely populated and commercialized islands, and the central Gotham mainland; because of that, he's not too worried for her walking at night time. Plus, he can still spot her figure on an almost-bare sidewalk.

Felixa Lowe has gone to the supermarket again, carrying a paper bag of vegetables and meat she knows her boyfriend needs. She walks with a purpose, a bit hurried in the way her shoes audibly clacks against the old pavement. She has, undoubtedly, wanted to prepare them a decent meal again, as a way of avenging themselves from the take-aways they had had to endure under Dick's roof a few days ago, when they had an assignment on Bludhaven. Felixa had volunteered as their medic and, having grown a bit disgruntled with Dick's 'efficient' diet of fast foods, she became their cook before they all cleared house after that mission. Jason knew both Tim and Barb shared his grateful sentiment about the actual food she had cooked as a celebratory meal for their mission success. Jason, on the other hand, was happy Felixa was simply around.

Taking advantage of the shadows and security camera-free alley, Jason pushes a button at the back of his red helmet. The blood-red domed surface of the Red Hood's helmet pulls away to reveal a scarred and chiseled face; with the helmet locks around his head and neck smoothly unlocking, the helmet slides off easily and he tucks it underneath his arm. He finds a nicely-hidden duffel bag full of Red Hood gear, placed inside a basement window of the dark pawn shop, behind a large metal garbage container; opening the bag, a lightweight, heavy-duty container with a numerical security lock is revealed. Punching the right numbers, the container opens and he places the helmet on what appears to be a metallic, domed indentation, perfectly fitting the helmet there. He quickly takes the grey bomber jacket and folds it to fit it inside a slimmer, ziplock-looking container, as well as his kevlar and weapons, all fitted on their own molded fittings within the duffel bag. Securing the duffel bag again inside its shadowy hiding place, Jason could just imagine the horror on Felixa's voice if she finds out about how he hides twenty percent of his vigilante gear, camouflaged as unwanted pieces of trash, then worn and used on his body; just like Alfred (Jason's chest tightens a little), Felixa's concern is as deep as the Mariana's trench and has a fury against mistreated and spoiled things or people...especially people ; with that, she doesn't need to know this . Besides, the gear's containment is sealed air-tight within the seemingly-abused duffel bag.