[Oh so now violating the sanctity of the mind is off limits. Too little, too late.
The initial imperious edge doesn't do a lot to unruffle Jason's feathers. Before John is through talking it out, he's swung from hovering near the side of the roof to tipping back over the edge of it, the toes of his shoes barely scraping at the ledge in unsubtle threat. One place their expertise overlaps—fear has always been a well-used part of the vigilante toolset. Imperfect, impermanent, but useful. There's a reason Bruce swoops around the city in bat ears, creates mythologies around himself in dark places.
Any attempt at finding common ground over it seems to fall on deaf ears. His expression has shuttered, eyes flinty, voice gone dangerously even.]
Lets say I don't.
[Whether it's actually true or not is kind of beside the point, at the moment. "Had to" is doing a lot of operative work, here. It's not lost on him that John had jumped right to the magic tricks. That he'd come up here ready to assume (or came up here knowing) that anyone unlucky enough to have ducked out for a smoke break was a fair target for fucking with. He's pissed off, he's been screwed around with enough to have a chip on his shoulder about it. So he's pushing. Lets see how far it gets him.]
Try again.
[Give him a reason to give a crap, bud, his arms might start getting tired.]
no subject
The initial imperious edge doesn't do a lot to unruffle Jason's feathers. Before John is through talking it out, he's swung from hovering near the side of the roof to tipping back over the edge of it, the toes of his shoes barely scraping at the ledge in unsubtle threat. One place their expertise overlaps—fear has always been a well-used part of the vigilante toolset. Imperfect, impermanent, but useful. There's a reason Bruce swoops around the city in bat ears, creates mythologies around himself in dark places.
Any attempt at finding common ground over it seems to fall on deaf ears. His expression has shuttered, eyes flinty, voice gone dangerously even.]
Lets say I don't.
[Whether it's actually true or not is kind of beside the point, at the moment. "Had to" is doing a lot of operative work, here. It's not lost on him that John had jumped right to the magic tricks. That he'd come up here ready to assume (or came up here knowing) that anyone unlucky enough to have ducked out for a smoke break was a fair target for fucking with. He's pissed off, he's been screwed around with enough to have a chip on his shoulder about it. So he's pushing. Lets see how far it gets him.]
Try again.
[Give him a reason to give a crap, bud, his arms might start getting tired.]