6'1, 190 pounds, Jason keeps in remarkable shape, far exceeding that of his peers. Spending several hours a day working out, both for his job and as a force of habit. With his upbringing his physical shape was the difference between life and death. His hair is light brown, it looks red in certain lights. He's got bright blue eyes, whenever he laughs his face breaks into a crooked smile. The young man sports several scars and long since healed bruises in his face, everything from fists to shrapnel has left it's mark on his body. While on duty, he dresses in the standard uniform, but on his free time he keep a Biker-esque motif. T-shirts with the Grim Reaper or Tombstones on them are plenty in his wardrobe – so are Half Life 2 shirts.
Hand-To-Hand;
Bruce Wayne, Vic Sage are both among his teachers in Close Quarters Combat. While the amount of martial arts he is trained in could be counted on both hands, he is most proficient in Krav Maga as well as grappling. If compared to his fellow Robins, Jason lacks the finesse and agility in his combat style the others possesses, making up for it with sheer ferocity and raw strength. However, due to his line of duty, he rarely gets the opportunity to make a cartwheel somersault spin-kick anymore.
Detective Skills;
Getting taught criminology by Batman had it's perks – it made the Police Academy a breeze, for instance.
Marksmanship:
Handguns, Shotguns, Snipers, he's skilled with all of them. Prefering the Police Issued Glock 9MM over all. He could probably figure out how to use a bow and Arrow, too.
Jason, for all of his skills is just a human, and as far as humans with vigilante backgrounds, he's vastly inferior to his both senior and junior Robins. He's gotten less training and less experience than all of them.
Beyond that, he wears a target on his back, and it isn't a red R. It's a Golden Star on a blue Jacket, which in Gotham is just about the same as a bullseye.
Further, Jason did beat death, but it didn't come without it's drawbacks. Jason is suffering from extreme Post Traumatic Stress so much so that he could be labeled clinically insane. Kept together by constantly keeping himself in check – possible all thanks to the training he received from Vic Sage, that Sage in turn got from Richard Dragon.
| B I O G R A P H Y: |When Hell Is Full, The Wicked Shall Walk Earth Once More.
Born to a Junkie mother and a Thug father, his father went to jail and his mother overdosed and died by the time Jason was four years old. Since then, he had to fend for himself on the harsh streets of Gotham, no Orphanage took him in and nobody was there to fight for him. His only friend in the world was himself. He was quick to learn how to steal, but it took him longer to learn to not get caught, and as such, by the time had was 9 he had spent more nights at the Police Station than most career criminals would in their entire life. When Jason was 12 he found the Batmobile parked outside of the apartment complex he at the time called his home.
What would most 12 year olds do when they see the vehicle of the legendary hero parked outside of their porch? Probably hang around for an autograph. What did Jason Todd do? He decided to steal the tires of the car. Because of course he did.
Getting caught in the act, Batman tossed the young urchin around. Jason spewed some venomous words at the Caped Crusader, and it earned him a look that might as well have been a swift kick to the ribs.
Batman would find out Jason's identity and keep him in his sights, like he did quite a few other kids around the city, Jason would receive a full ride from the Wayne Foundation to attend Gotham High, reluctantly, the street urchin put on the monkey suit they called a school uniform and attended school – he didn't fit in, but he showed his potential, both academically and physically. The same year he would be taken in by Bruce Wayne and brought into the fold, his training into Robin went fast, only four months of training. At first, he showed as much promise, if not more than his predecessor.
But with time, Bruce came to realize that Jason lacked the compassion Dick had. Jason was more concerned with getting Vengeance on the thugs who's collar bones he pulverized, than getting Justice for those they had hurt. Jason was angry. Really Angry And that's what landed him in the trap set by the Joker, a trap involving promises of Jason's mother still being alive. And Robin went off on his own.
Days of brutal torture at the hands of the Clown Prince Of Crime, the deranged lunatic broke the Robin. And when Batman was but moments away from saving him, an explosion would end the story of Jason Todd.
Or so one would have thought. Through means nobody could explain, two years later, Jason awoke in a dark and damp room, soon realizing it was a casket. Using the belt-buckle on the suit he was buried in, wrapping the metal onto his knuckles, he punched his way through the solid wood and crawled his way back to the realm of the living. By all logic, he would have been in a 16 year old's body – not that there would have been much of a body left. And yet, there he was, his body older than when he died and fully functional.
While at the start, Jason thought himself to be perfectly normal, he found a convenient store where he grabbed several bottles of water and attempted to make a phone call, the line was dead and a fat trucker was bothered a young woman behind him in line. Words were said and the trucker hit the woman – the same way Jason's father had hit his mother in his earliest memories. The same way The Joker had hit him.
And so the manical laughter rang inside of his head and in a blood raged fury, Jason had grabbed the trucker by a choke hold and dragged him into the men's bathroom. Beating the man to death by bashing his head against the walls. He had broken Batman's code, and as he stood there with warm blood trickling down his fist, he felt no remorse. He wasn't sorry, and he wasn't going to stop.
Making his way back from the hellhole he had been buried in, he would come to Gotham and find out that Bruce hadn't killed the Joker, after all. That after all The Joker had done to him, that piece of shit was still breating. Jason had loved Bruce like the father he never had, with his everything, and yet, to Bruce, Jason was nothing. A tool, a good little soldier, nothing more. A soldier that was easily replaced.
Angry and upset, Jason would proceed to make plans to kill Bruce. Appearing in the criminal underworld donning biker leathers and a red biker helm, using the tactics Bruce had taught him – but corrupted and sinister, he slaughtered several gangs, putting an end to their activities in a way Batman never had the guts to do.
One night, Batman and the new Robin – Tim Drake was following up a lead. Knowing where Bruce would park the Batmobile in relation to the location, Jason made sure to be there. Planting enough explosives to destroy half a city block under the would be tank. He waited for Batman and Robin to get in as he held his hand on the detonator. He heard a voice. Was it his soul? Did he have one? Adrenaline pumped as he got ready to destroy his one time hero and his new ward. But then a tap on his shoulder and a swift fist to the face changed his tune. As he hit the floor of the rooftop and his helm cracked open. Before him he saw a blue cape. Peering his eyes upwards, he would find it wasn't a cape, but a coat. That of the Hub City Detective – The one without a face, the living Enigma. The Question.
The two fought for a moment while the Batmobile sped off, unknowing of how close the dynamic duo had been to meet their doom. The Question had tracked Jason's activities, and was there to help him, he claimed. In a way, Question was much like Bruce, his way of helping relied a lot of physical violence.
Getting his face beaten in wasn't the worst thing to happen to Jason, as it turned out, for when the Vigilante had beaten him unconscious, he woke up in a apartment, restrained by handcuffs. Cuffs he could break out of in a few moments, if he so wanted. Opposed to him sat the blue clad vigilante, looking at him – even if it was impossible to tell due to the mask he wore.
They talked, at first for a few minutes. Then for hours. And soon, Jason realized that he was broken, and that Vic Sage understood him, in a way Bruce Wayne never could have. Every time in the coming 9 months he would act out, get violent, Vic Sage would put him in his place. Show him a different way. The way of meditation and discipline, the same way Vic had been taught by Richard Dragon. A way Jason could get rid of the anger and the blood lust he felt. That he could let go of his hatred for Bruce, for the Joker and for the world.
With time, and a lot of sparring, Jason would learn to control himself. A man who had beaten death and come back from the other side, he had finally been reborn. He had learned how to break free of the chains put on him. Of his past, that he wasn't a deadbeat like his mother or a thug like his father. He wasn't Bruce, and he wasn't Robin, he wasn't the Joker, nor was he the circumference of all of these things. He was Jason Todd, and he had been given a second chance at life. A chance he wouldn't squander.
In the following two years he would enroll in the Hub City Police Academy, still troubled and still dead as far as anyone in Gotham knew, all the trails of his criminal activities had been swept clean by Vic. He graduated top of his class, becoming a proud officer of the HCPD, until the news hit him. The Joker was dead, and Bruce was gone.
It was time, that for real, Jason Todd would rise from the ashes and come back to the world of the living. It was time to go back to Gotham.
| M I S C. N O T E S: |Over the years as a police officer, his martial arts skills have diminished, the average thug doesn't require the Hand to Hand combat skill to take down that a super villain would. He stays far from the attention of the Batfamily, but he isn't hiding. He didn't change his name, nor is he hiding his views of the vigilantes, being one of many in the GCPD who supports them.
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