Post by Red Hood on Aug 1, 2015 17:11:07 GMT
The neighborhood known as the Hook in the east end of Gotham, which hugged the river that bisected Gotham and the Atlantic ocean in an L-shape. It was considered open territory, and one Roman Sionis was intent on moving in on the territory—extorting the owners of shops in his wake. This neighborhood in particular was special, because within the people of the Hook laid a desire to sculpt a new Gotham—a Gotham without gangsters and gangster politicians, without masks destroying what they work hard for daily.
Jason Todd was twenty-one years old when his father was murdered at the hands of the Joker, that was the year 2008. He was older now, and there was not much left of the young man that Jason was before his father died. Jason, as a young man, grew up idolizing his father, and the power of the mob. But that day was a catalyst in the mind of the young man, who saw a city go up in flames twice due to primarily to mob activity and its consequences. It changed him.
It was now the year 2015, and Jason Todd had long disappeared from the Hook, the neighborhood in which he grew up. It was during the Bane incident that Todd went missing. But the boy from the Hook would return, his face veiled in a symbol of his father's murder—blood red pouring down his face as the Joker scalped him alive. The Gotham media was calling him “Redface”, he was considered just another masked villain with a bloodlust to destroy the city. But that wasn't the Man in Red's aim, his aim was to change it forever. Was it Jason Todd behind the mask? For “Redface”, there was no man behind the mask, the blood red tribute adorned on a reinforced Paintball OutdoorMaster skull mask was as much his flesh as any other part of his body. He wore a gunmetal black flex-Kelvar hooded vest to protect against knives and bullets. The Silk Road could do a man wonders.
It was a summer night, the owner of a laundromat was shutting his store down when two Sionis thugs walked through the front door of the establishment. They carried with them a message. “This area belongs to a new Roman. He wants tribute.”
The owner of the Laundromat's name was Valentino, the people of the Hook called him “Mr. Val” or “Val”. He was getting much older, and despite being in business for more than four decades, his bills were bigger than they were when he first started. Val had no retirement, he would have to hang on to his shop until he died, and it was like this for many of the shop owners of the Hook. It was common, which only added to the fire building within them.
“Listen, fellas. I'm sorry, but I can't pay anyone tribute.” Val said, “I pay enough tribute to the bank and the government just to stay afloat and not on the street.”
“Which is ever the more reason to pay your tribute to Mister Sionis” said the Sionis grunt, clad in a black suit with grey pinstripes, “We both know Gotham's a dangerous place, and it's changin' for the worse. Wouldn't you feel at ease knowing a man as powerful as Mister Sionis protecting you?”
“I don't need any protection, gentlemen. But that matters little, because I do not have the money to give you.” said Val
“We'll give you a weeks time.”
“Please, gentlemen! I beg you, it's impossible!” pleaded Val.
“You have a week.”
The door opened once more, and this time there was the man everyone in the Hook and in Gotham had been talking about.
“Redface?” said the grunt, “What the fuck are you doing here? What do you want?”
“I'm afraid I must beg Mr. Valentino for his favor” said Redface, but his voice was distorted by something implanted in the mask, it was meant to disorient his foes—to get into their heads. It worked.
“A favor for what? Can't you see we are busy with Mr. Valentino?”
“I see. Well, regardless, Mr. Valentino, do me the favor or staying open just a tad bit later.” said Redface, “I expect to use your services in the very near future.”
The Man in Red moved fast, and hit the first grunt square on the nose so hard with his palm it exploded on impact. By the time the second grunt could react, drawing his sidearm from its holster, his hand was split into halves like a loaf of bread by a bullet traveling from his partner's pistol—fired off by Redface himself. The second grunt screamed in agony, and fell to his knees. Both men were incapacitated within ten seconds.
Val looked on in horror, but as the two men dropped, the man with the Redface stood tranquilly in between their bodies. “L-l-like I told them, Redface. I have no money...”
“I don't want or need your money, Val.” said Redface, but this time the voice distorter was switched off, and replaced with the calm steady voice of someone familiar to Val, “I want you to keep your doors open, and I don't want you to worry about any Sionis thugs from this point forth.”
“U-u-huh... Thank you?” said Val.
“Let me take care of these two for you.” said Redface.
In another two minutes, the man donned in a red mask and black hood had removed the Sionis grunts from Val's laundromat. Val lowered the grate on his shop, hoping that the Redface would keep his word that he would no longer need to worry anymore about mobsters knocking on his door.
Sometime in the midst of the late night moon, two dead bodies which were allowed to bleed out through the night were dropped on Roman Sionis' door step, which was no easy task to do as it would require someone to circumvent the estate's security fence. Pinned to the dead bodies was a notice, it was addressed to Roman Sionis. It read:
“Attention Mr. Sionis,
You've been served your death warrant. An invasion constitutes an equal showing of force. I am tasked to inform you that I am that force.
Signed,
Red Hood”
Jason Todd was twenty-one years old when his father was murdered at the hands of the Joker, that was the year 2008. He was older now, and there was not much left of the young man that Jason was before his father died. Jason, as a young man, grew up idolizing his father, and the power of the mob. But that day was a catalyst in the mind of the young man, who saw a city go up in flames twice due to primarily to mob activity and its consequences. It changed him.
It was now the year 2015, and Jason Todd had long disappeared from the Hook, the neighborhood in which he grew up. It was during the Bane incident that Todd went missing. But the boy from the Hook would return, his face veiled in a symbol of his father's murder—blood red pouring down his face as the Joker scalped him alive. The Gotham media was calling him “Redface”, he was considered just another masked villain with a bloodlust to destroy the city. But that wasn't the Man in Red's aim, his aim was to change it forever. Was it Jason Todd behind the mask? For “Redface”, there was no man behind the mask, the blood red tribute adorned on a reinforced Paintball OutdoorMaster skull mask was as much his flesh as any other part of his body. He wore a gunmetal black flex-Kelvar hooded vest to protect against knives and bullets. The Silk Road could do a man wonders.
It was a summer night, the owner of a laundromat was shutting his store down when two Sionis thugs walked through the front door of the establishment. They carried with them a message. “This area belongs to a new Roman. He wants tribute.”
The owner of the Laundromat's name was Valentino, the people of the Hook called him “Mr. Val” or “Val”. He was getting much older, and despite being in business for more than four decades, his bills were bigger than they were when he first started. Val had no retirement, he would have to hang on to his shop until he died, and it was like this for many of the shop owners of the Hook. It was common, which only added to the fire building within them.
“Listen, fellas. I'm sorry, but I can't pay anyone tribute.” Val said, “I pay enough tribute to the bank and the government just to stay afloat and not on the street.”
“Which is ever the more reason to pay your tribute to Mister Sionis” said the Sionis grunt, clad in a black suit with grey pinstripes, “We both know Gotham's a dangerous place, and it's changin' for the worse. Wouldn't you feel at ease knowing a man as powerful as Mister Sionis protecting you?”
“I don't need any protection, gentlemen. But that matters little, because I do not have the money to give you.” said Val
“We'll give you a weeks time.”
“Please, gentlemen! I beg you, it's impossible!” pleaded Val.
“You have a week.”
The door opened once more, and this time there was the man everyone in the Hook and in Gotham had been talking about.
“Redface?” said the grunt, “What the fuck are you doing here? What do you want?”
“I'm afraid I must beg Mr. Valentino for his favor” said Redface, but his voice was distorted by something implanted in the mask, it was meant to disorient his foes—to get into their heads. It worked.
“A favor for what? Can't you see we are busy with Mr. Valentino?”
“I see. Well, regardless, Mr. Valentino, do me the favor or staying open just a tad bit later.” said Redface, “I expect to use your services in the very near future.”
The Man in Red moved fast, and hit the first grunt square on the nose so hard with his palm it exploded on impact. By the time the second grunt could react, drawing his sidearm from its holster, his hand was split into halves like a loaf of bread by a bullet traveling from his partner's pistol—fired off by Redface himself. The second grunt screamed in agony, and fell to his knees. Both men were incapacitated within ten seconds.
Val looked on in horror, but as the two men dropped, the man with the Redface stood tranquilly in between their bodies. “L-l-like I told them, Redface. I have no money...”
“I don't want or need your money, Val.” said Redface, but this time the voice distorter was switched off, and replaced with the calm steady voice of someone familiar to Val, “I want you to keep your doors open, and I don't want you to worry about any Sionis thugs from this point forth.”
“U-u-huh... Thank you?” said Val.
“Let me take care of these two for you.” said Redface.
In another two minutes, the man donned in a red mask and black hood had removed the Sionis grunts from Val's laundromat. Val lowered the grate on his shop, hoping that the Redface would keep his word that he would no longer need to worry anymore about mobsters knocking on his door.
Sometime in the midst of the late night moon, two dead bodies which were allowed to bleed out through the night were dropped on Roman Sionis' door step, which was no easy task to do as it would require someone to circumvent the estate's security fence. Pinned to the dead bodies was a notice, it was addressed to Roman Sionis. It read:
“Attention Mr. Sionis,
You've been served your death warrant. An invasion constitutes an equal showing of force. I am tasked to inform you that I am that force.
Signed,
Red Hood”
