This is not exactly an official chapter but I thought you guys might enjoy it.
I was asked to enter a forum called "When Blood Calls for Blood." I figured I had nothing to lose so I entered with Jason and won the honor of writing as him. Unfortunately, my audition has been scrapped and I can no longer use it. I have to start over completely. So, I got special permission from the writers at the Freelancer Collaboration to publish my application here.
Keep in mind that I had to tweak a lot about the characters to make them fit in better with the prompt. Let me know what you think.
The Basics:
Name/Alias: Jason Peter Todd/ Red Hood
Age: 16
Appearance: Six feet tall, broad-shouldered, muscular, Caucasian with jet black hair and dark blue eyes. Imagine Kellan Lutz. Definitely has that ruggedly handsome appearance.
Personality: Comes across as a stereotypical bad boy with an "I don't care about anyone or anything" attitude to people that don't really know the real him. Jason can actually be a real softy to people he cares about. He literally has no filter and says anything he wants. He has the "I will never give up or give in" personality. Jason is impossible to break. He also has a sarcastic/smartass personality.
Talents: Due to his large size, Jason has a way of intimidating people in order to get what he wants. He's an excellent scrapper and not afraid to fight dirty. He hardly ever misses his shot. He's a skilled marksman, swordsman, and brawler. Jason has enough common sense and street smarts to survive.
Weakpoints: Jason's a loose cannon. He's very headstrong and leaps into situations without thinking about outcomes. Jay has no control over his mouth and speaks his mind. He tends to be way too overprotective when it comes to someone he loves or feels the need to protect. Jason has a soft spot for kids and women. Also has a nicotine addiction.
Background: Growing up with an alcoholic and drug addict of a mother and an abusive father, who ended up dying from gang relations, Jason is used to being the breadwinner of the family. At a young age, Jason lied, stole, fought, and clawed his way through the slums of his district in order to care for his mother. Jason was twelve when his mother died from recklessness.
He was taken in by his mentor shortly after trying to steal from the most powerful man in the district. Impressed by the boy's fearlessness and abilities, Jason was groomed to be the ultimate victor alongside Dick Grayson, his older "brother," his mentor's other "son." Their mentor is confident in both boys' skills, considering they're complete opposites and succeed in areas where the other fails. However, when it comes to the area of actually taking a life, Jason is far more ready for the task.
District Variations:
District One: Jason was once the poorest kid in the entire district until he was taken in by Bruce. The Waynes live a privileged life where winning the games is their only concern. Jason is desperate to climb out from under his adoptive father's and brother's shadows to prove himself worthy.
District Ten: Because Jason was once very poor, he worked in a slaughterhouse and is no stranger to blood. His luck changed when the wealthiest man in this district took him in. Jason's only focus became training.
District Twelve: Before he was adopted, Jason is used to having to fight for survival by working in the mines, hunting illegally, and theft. He uses his skills to his advantage.
The Prompts:
A sentimental scene:
Tim winced as he felt the pressure increasing from the weight his injured ankle was forced to take on as Jason gently set him down on his feet. Who uses a bear trap in the games? It's so wrong.
With blurry eyes, Tim watched as Jason pulled away several vines, leaves, and sticks which had carefully been woven into a canvas to conceal a small entrance to a small underground cave. Jason helped lower Tim down into the crevice in the ground before following after him.
Jason muttered, "We should be safe here for a little while."
"T-thank you," Tim softly stuttered.
Jason glanced over his shoulder to see the tiny kid shivering against the wall of the cave. The boy had his arms wrapped around his knees as he sat hunched over, shaking softly. Long and dark shaggy hair covered Tim's face and hid his tears.
Jason pulled the canvas back over the small entrance and rolled the boulder back into place before turning back to the kid. Jason rolled his shoulders and arched his back, popping sore muscles while Tim winced at every creaking sound it made. Tim curled further into himself as Jason rolled his eyes.
"Calm down, midget. I already told you I wasn't going to hurt you. If I'd of wanted you dead, I wouldn't have cut you free from that snare and carried your scrawny ass back here. Besides, I want that bomb you said you could make."
Soft blue eyes peaked back out at Jason. The older boy knelt down and removed the kid's left boot. Tim's bottom lip quivered and a few tears leaked out as Jason gently rolled up the younger boy's pants to reveal the swollen and chewed up flesh from where the jagged teeth of the snare had caught his ankle. Jason cringed at the gruesome sight as large droplets of blood steadily oozed from Tim's ankle.
Well… Damn.
"It's not that bad," Jason lied.
Jason washed away as much of the grit and blood as possible before wrapping Tim's ankle in a makeshift bandage from a strip of his own shirt. The older of the two sank down beside the younger and wrapped an arm around the younger boy. Tim just looked up at the older teen, who shrugged in return.
"I'm just tired of watching you shiver," Jason mumbled.
Tim smirked. "You're a softy."
"I could still kill you."
"You won't."
Jason never responded as Tim curled further into his side. Glancing down at the youngest tribute in the Hunger Games, he really hoped he wouldn't have to hurt the kid. Let alone kill him. Then again, the wound from the trap would probably kill the kid first.
Your tribute's first kill:
"No!"
Oh God no. Not Tim. Not Timmy. Not Tim Drake. Not that poor, defenseless nerd from District Three. Not the big blue-eyed, long haired, scrawny assed, little brat that looked up at you like you were the most impressive thing since the start of this godforsaken form of entertainment. Not the annoying little smartass that you went through hell just to save the first time. Not the kid you looked at like a little brother and fought so hard to protect.
Five minutes.
Tim was only alone for like five minutes. There's no way in hell he's staring at you with empty eyes with blood pooling onto the dirt around him. There's no way in hell that the crimson flowing from the chasm across the pale flesh that was once his neck is the reason why a cannon boomed a second ago. And that smile jaggedly etched onto his face like some kind of sick and twisted joke. As if anyone could be happy about dying in gruesome manner like that.
"Tim," Jason mumbled as he dropped to his knees beside the lifeless corpse, reaching out a rough and calloused hand to shut the innocent eyes convicting him of his guilt forever.
He should've run faster when he heard the twelve year old scream. He should've made sure the boy was hidden before leaving. He should've tried harder to save him. But he failed just like he failed his mother. Just like his mother.
A rustling of leaves behind Jason snaps him back to reality. Cold, sapphire eyes narrow as Jason's free hand grips his knife. There's no time for mourning when revenge is of the essence. Jason held his breath as the enemy crept closer.
Jason rolled to the side at the last second as an axe came down to where he'd been a second before. The blonde gasped and let out a high pitched shriek as Jason's knife plunged into her leg, bringing her to crashing down to the ground. Jason was on her in a second. He pinned her to the ground with his hand wrapped around her neck as he repeatedly slammed her head against the dirt.
"Mista J!" Harley shrieked.
Vile laughter could be heard as a sickening crunch could be heard. Jason looked down in shock at the hands he'd just used to strangle and snap the neck of the crazy girl from District Five. Now, all he needed was the crazy bastard.
Jason's wish was granted as the psychopath sprang from the trees just as soon as the cannon sounded. Joker leapt onto Jason's exposed back. The cold tip of the metal blade stained with scarlet was pressed against Jason's lips as a bony arm wrapped itself around Jason's neck.
"Let's put a smile on that face to match the other little bird!" The maniac singsonged.
Jason slammed his head backwards into the Joker's face as he caught the arm around his neck and snapped the wrist of the crazed clown. Sunlight reflected the gory scene off the bloodstained blade sticking in the earth.
Jason poured every ounce of his fury and strength into maiming the one that had had it out for him since the beginning. Yet, the Joker wouldn't stop laughing the entire time. The wild and unruly cackle of the crazed man filled the entire arena as another cannon suddenly went off.
The sixteen year old backed away, panting heavily as he dared to look at the still smiling faces around him. His only remorse was not being able to save the kid and letting the two responsible die too easily.
Jason's bottom lip trembled as moisture added to his eyes. He screamed in rage as fingers would themselves in black hair and pulled. It wasn't supposed to be this way. Bruce never said it'd be this way. He made it sound so easy to kill. It was so easy but why does it feel so wrong and so relieving at the same time?
Your tribute's death:
Wild and unruly laughter filled the atmosphere as Jason lay panting on the ground. He groaned as the metal bar collided with his side.
"Come on, you're not going to sleep on me already are you? Wake up! I want you to sing for me!" the clown demands before landing another blow.
By now, Jason is covered in blood. He's barely breathing. Bones have been broken beyond repair. Crimson liquid is pouring from his agape mouth, due to lung damage and internal bleeding. The pungent smell of copper fills the air as the sound of breaking bone fills the air.
Joker pauses to pet Jason's hair. He removed his hand to smile down at his pale white flesh covered in scarlet. Joker carefully begins painting a bloody smile onto Jason's face with his own blood. Joker smiled down at his work only to be met with a glob of bloody spit in his face.
"That's still not good enough," Joker laughs ignoring the spit before pulling a switchblade. "Let's put a real smile on that face!"
Flesh separates as the small blade is dragged from Jason's lips to his cheeks. The small blade dices through the tender skin to create a bloody chasm in the image of a gas glow smile.
Harley turns away from the scene completely to empty the contents of her stomach. She looks away at the corpses of the kid and the blonde that Jason had been so ready to sacrifice himself for. He knew he couldn't save them and yet he came anyway. He came anyway.
Tears finally splashed down Jason's face after he'd fought so long them hold them in. It still wasn't enough. He was as good as dead now. With every bone broken and his face carved into something beyond recognition, he was too far gone. More of Jason's blood soaked into the soil rather than inside his body where it rightfully belonged.
In a matter of seconds, Jason would be dead and Bruce still wouldn't be proud of him. The golden boy had screwed up and left the silver boy to take his place. It still wouldn't be enough. Everything Bruce had worked for was gone because Jason messed up. He shouldn't have come back for Tim and Kara. But he did.
Joker cackled widely as he set the homemade bomb Tim had designed only a few hours earlier directly in front of the broken boy. It wasn't supposed to have happened like this. Jason couldn't even hear what Joker said over the blood rushing in his ears. Blue eyes looked themselves onto the timer as the clock slowly counted backwards down to one.
Your tribute wins:
None of them understand. None of them knew what it was like.
Only Bruce knew. But his mind was so far gone and corrupted that he merely stood there proudly with his hands on Jason's shoulders smiling like a Cheshire cat. Bruce smiled and gave his statements about all the training Jason had received into making him the ultimate competitor.
Dick stood beside them, basking in the glow of the cameras and microphones. Yet, a hidden wave of jealousy and bitterness towards Jason was hidden beneath that silky smile. This was supposed to be his moment. Dick was older and trained for longer than Jason. But one mistake cost him his limelight when he fell during training and broke an arm and fractured three ribs. One stupid mistake was the consequence of Jason volunteering to take his brother's place.
Dick's smile faltered when he finally noticed the blank and emptiness of Jason's eyes as he stared blankly at the monitors replaying all the best moments from the games. He noticed Jason's inability to swallow and the sweatiness of his palms as he constantly clenched and unclenched his fists.
Jason should never have been up there in the first place. He can't handle the people of the capitol. He can't handle the waves of emotion. He can't handle waking up every night screaming. But he has to.
Dick frowned as Jason was ushered away from them into a luxurious and plush seat across Tivan. Jason forced a smile onto his face as the glamorous host introduced the Capitol's newest victor.
Tivan gleefully said, "Tell us, Jason. Tell the world how this feels. Tell us how it feels to win."
Does it matter? They'll never understand anyway.
"It feels like a dream."
It feels like a dream that Jason will never wake up from because no one understands. They never will.
Anything else:
Jason kept his eyes on the floor as the doctor left the room. He closed his eyes and readied himself for his adoptive father's rant. Normally, Jason was in the line of fire but now the tables had turned.
Bruce fumed, "How could you have been so stupid! This was your last year! Dammit Richard! If I'd have only known you would pull something like this, I'd have left you crying on your parents' graves!"
Jason only dared to look up once Bruce had left the room. He winced internally at the pained expression on Dick's face. Dick was eighteen now. There was no way he could make it in the games with a busted arm and three fractured ribs. Dick was always the golden child. He'd always been Bruce's favorite. Dick was the chosen one destined to win the games if he'd ever get called as tribute.
None of that mattered now. He'd screwed up with one stupid mistake during training. The perfect son had failed. It'd be okay though. There was no way that Dick's name would be called. This was his last year anyway. He'd be fine. He'd heal. It's not like they needed the spoils of being the victor anyway.
Dick made one mistake. Jason made thousands or at least he was never as good as his adoptive brother. Bruce always berated Jason for always being in second place. Yet, it hurt to see Dick berated almost as much as it hurt when he was in the line of fire.
After a tense moment, Jason hesitantly asked, "You okay?"
"Fine, Jay," Dick grumbled, dropping his head back down onto the pillow.
Jason nodded before he took a seat on the edge of his brother's bed and stared at his older brother. It was strange for three unrelated people to have the same raven hair and blue eyes. They felt like a real family most of the time if training was out of the question. Bruce really did try to be a good father but his mind was so fixed upon winning at all costs. Like his father before him, Bruce had won the games the year he was reaped. Bruce needed to continue his legacy. That's where Dick and Jason came in.
Bruce had taken Dick in seven years prior to when a twelve year old Jason came into the picture. It was a stupid idea to steal from one of the most wealthy and powerful men in the district. Everything turned out okay though. Bruce took care of training and made sure Jason was taken care of. Dick was the one that offered comfort and unnecessary brother bonding.
Dick sighed. "What's wrong, Jay?"
"What if you do get reaped tomorrow?"
"I bring honor to the family by winning."
Jason swallowed before stating, "You can't fight like that, Dick. You can't win like that."
"I don't have a choice."
Dick may not have had a choice but Jason did. Jason nodded before he moved to get off his brother's bed. Dick would be fine. They wouldn't pick him. They wouldn't read his name. They couldn't.
I also sent in one for Tim as a backup.
The Basics:
Name/Alias: Timothy Jackson Drake/Red Robin
Age: 12
Appearance: Short. At the age of twelve, Tim is extremely small for his age and could easily pass for eight. He has black hair, fair skin, and light blue eyes. Logan Lerman has always been my character model for Tim.
Personality: Tim is very shy. He's the quietest member of the BatFamily. Tim's highly intelligent with a sweet and calm personality. However, Tim's known to have a dark side when angry.
Talents: Highly intelligent. Possesses some skill in combat. Easy to trust and easily liked. Capable of surviving alone. Very sneaky and strategic. Technology has always been Tim's forte. He's a skilled hacker that could rival anyone in the DCU. (Nerd skills for life! Yes, that was canon.)
Weakpoints: Sometimes lets his emotions get in the way. Tim is a handicapped fighter; he uses a bo staff. He has received the least amount of training in his family, yet he's very capable of holding his own.
Background: Coming from an extremely wealthy family, Tim has always been left to his own devices. The Drakes barely spent any time with their as they were too busy being wealthy socialites and tending to more important matters. Tim spent his time using his brain to completely learn the fundamentals of anything technical. Also due to his ability to practically become invisible to anyone around him, Tim has become skilled at sneaking out of his district in order to visit other districts.
District Variations:
District 3: Tim is highly skilled in technology and I can't see him in any other district.
The Prompts:
A sentimental scene:
"Timothy Jackson Drake!"
Tim just stood there with wide eyes as he was ushered forward. No way. No freaking way. This was not happening. Not his first year. He'd just turned twelve last week for the love of God! There was no way that he was now standing on that stage with Barbara Gordon looking out into the sea of shocked people from District 3.
Tim's eyes met the mortified eyes of his parents. Jack and Janet Drake had never been more ashamed in their entire lives. Their son, who could barely manage to open the door to their home without struggling was going into the games. Their boy, who was pushed around by everyone was going to be a tribute. What? It was quite clear to them that Timothy would die first. No way around it. Their boy was destined to die. How embarrassing.
Everyone had cheered when they had called Barbara Gordon. No one was cheering now.
Tim swallowed the overly large lump in his throat when he was finally dismissed from the stage and led into a room in the mayor's office to await his visitors. Yet, had none. Not even his parents had come. Tim was already written off as a lost cause. If it weren't for Barbara Gordon, things would have looked very bad for District 3.
"Hey, Tim, right?"
Tim looked up at Barbara as she entered the room. The boy sat up a little straighter as she came over to him.
"How're you feeling?"
"Okay. What about you?" Tim lied.
"Confident… Don't even worry about the Game. You're good at hiding so just do what you do best. I mean, I didn't even know you existed until a few minutes ago."
Tim just nodded before someone was sent to retrieve the two. The two tributes where then ushered onto the train away from everything they'd once known.
Tim just sat there and stared out the window as he contemplated his only two choices. He could go ahead and lay down and die like everyone expected or he could prove them all wrong.
Your tribute's first kill:
Tim explained, "Okay. There are exactly five remaining tributes left. Tonight, there's going to be a drop in the cornucopia for something we need. All you have to do is plant the device and switch it on. That'll give you exactly one minute to get out before it detonates."
Jason just nodded at Tim's instructions before agreeing. The two of them immediately set off for the cornucopia. They'd barely even made it out of their hidden cave before Jason was jumped by Harvey and Ivy.
"Get off me!" Jason yelled before going down with the two on top of him.
Tim's eyes widened as he crawled out of the cave. His eyes locked onto the explosive device that lay a few feet away from where Harvey and Ivy were scuffling with Jason. Two against one was so not fair.
Quickly calculating the outcome, Tim leapt up from his hiding spot to retrieve the bomb. Fingers flew over the contraption as Tim reset the bomb's defenses before he tossed it right where Jason, Harvey, and Ivy were fighting to gain the upper hand. Tim then drew a smile knife.
"Jason move!" Tim screamed.
Jason barely rolled out of the way in time as Tim expertly tossed the small knife at the bomb. Tim was thrown back several feet by the force of the blast. Ears ringing, blurry vision, and the inability to think clearly was what Tim was left with when he finally sat up.
The fuzzy outline of a man came into Tim's vision as he was pulled to his feet and practically dragged away from where Ivy and Harvey lay dead.
Tim's vision cleared enough to recognize Jason, bleeding heavily. Jason let go of Tim once they were a safe distance away and sank down on his knees. Tim's eyes widened when he saw the amount of blood pouring from Jason's chest where a piece of shrapnel had caught the older teen.
"Jason?" Tim asked fearfully. "I…I didn't mean-"
Laying his hand on Tim's shoulder, Jason whispered, "Not your fault… Go. There's still one of them out there."
Jason's hand slipped from Tim's shoulder as his arms crossed over his stomach. The older teenager lay there on his side heaving as blood started pouring from his mouth. With tears sliding down his face, Tim just sat there on his knees with his hands on Jason's shoulder.
The canon would fire three more times tonight.
Your tribute's death:
"Let me go! Jason! Help!" Tim screamed.
Harley immediately put her hand over the boy's mouth to drown out his screaming. Joker was grinning from ear to ear as he ran his dagger over his palm. The most insane and sadistic person in the entire games cackled wildly as he sauntered over to Tim.
A single tear slid down Tim's face. Everyone said he'd die. Everyone was right. The madman had Tim right where he wanted him. Well, he wanted Jason but Tim would do for now.
Joker cackled. "Tsk, tsk. Crying are we? That simply won't do. Let's put a smile on that face."
Harley immediately removed her hand and Joker plunged the knife into Tim's mouth. Pale flesh unraveled and became stained with crimson as the jagged teeth of the blade was slowly dragged from one side of Tim's mouth to the other. Tim's screams were lost among the gurgling noises from him choking on his own blood.
The blade was slowly dragged across his throat creating a deep chasm as red spurted from the life ending wound. The only sound was Tim choking on his own blood and the Joker laughing.
They all said he'd die. They were right.
Your tribute wins:
Timothy Jackson Drake was no longer a shadow. No one in their right mind would have ever expected the scrawny, little dork to win. No one. Yet, he did.
Tim just there in huge, luxurious, plush seat across Tivan. The chair practically engulfed the tiny boy. There was too much innocence and youth to be sitting there. Tim didn't even bother forcing a smile onto his face as the glamorous host introduced the Capitol's newest victor.
It was an accident. He hadn't meant to do. Tim didn't mean to basically blow up the remaining tributes, including Barbara. She was much more skilled than he was. Barbara deserved to be sitting here.
It was not supposed to be this way.
"Timothy? Earth to Timothy," Tivan called.
Tim finally looked at the host in response.
"There you are. Tell us how does it feel to be the victor?"
"I… I didn't mean to."
Anything else:
Tim sat there as still as a statue. Hidden amongst the shadows, he carefully observed the cliques. The Joker, Harley, Harvey, and Ivy had instantly grown close. Yet, there was a constant struggle for power. He noticed how Barbara and Dick couldn't seem to keep their hands off each other. Tim's brain instantly began compiling every tribute into groups and compared their strengths and weaknesses.
And then there was Jason.
Jason was the only one, other than Tim, flying solo. Tim watched as the powerhouse of the Games struggled to connect a few simple wires together that could possibly create a small explosion if connected right. Jason was definitely struggling. Yet, Jason struggled with a lot of the exercises. Sure, he beat anyone when it came to hand-to-hand combat or weapons but when it came to technology, it was a no-go. Tim had been there when Jason had head-butted with the Joker, who had sworn to have revenge on the bigger but younger teenager.
Tim glanced around at the other tributes before stepping out of the camouflage station and marched right up to Jason.
Tim stated, "If you connect the red wire to the blue one before attaching it to the power source, you'll get a better result. And I wouldn't use that size wiring. Use the smaller size."
"Uh… thanks," Jason muttered as his eyes roamed over the younger boy. "How old are you?"
"I turned twelve ten days ago."
Jason nodded before saying, "Timothy Drake, right?"
"Yeah. And you're Jason, son of Bruce Wayne. My parents were big fans of your father when he was in the games."
"You some kind of stalker?"
Tim's eyes widened as he swallowed. Just play it cool. Don't admit to anything. Stay calm.
Jason rolled his eyes before saying, "Relax, Timmy. I'm joking."
"Did someone say joke?" Joker asked as he sauntered over with that huge grin on his face.
Jason crossed his arms over his chest and glared down at the clown and his cronies. Tim couldn't help but take a step closer to the teenager he hoped to became an alley in the Game. The boy couldn't help it. Joker, Harley, Ivey, and Harvey were exactly the kind of people that haunted you in nightmares.
"Didja make a little friend?" Harley sneered in that annoying high-pitched voice of hers.
Ivy proceeded to bend over to pinch one of Tim's cheeks. Tim immediately smacked her hand away. The redhead proceeded to narrow her eyes at the boy, who actually held his ground. Surprise flashed in Tim's eyes when Jason stepped in front of him.
Jason growled, "Leave the kid alone."
The crowd immediately scattered when a facilitator stepped in. No one could shed blood now. Everything had to be saved for the Games.
Tim flinched as a hand came down on his shoulder. He held his ground when he noticed Jason.
"You okay, Timbo?"
"It's Tim and I'm fine… I can hold my own, Jason."
"Never said you couldn't, Timbo. But, I haven't really seen you do anything. Can you fight, shoot, defend yourself?"
"I knows how to take care of myself. Besides, I've been watching you. I can do everything you can't."
The older teen asked, "Someone ever teach you how to throw a knife?"
Tim shook his head and Jason grinned.
"Then it's your lucky day."