heavily inspired by a convo between my fiancee and I last night
Jason Todd takes pride in keeping his boots clean. Having one good set of boots has always been one of his mundane dreams, right alongside having a neat and well-stocked kitchen to cook in. It was one of the luxuries he couldn’t afford as a kid, stuck with one pair of worn-down shoes that were too-small with a hole at the toe. So of course he takes good care of his shoes.
It becomes somewhat of an urban legend. The Red Hood keeps his boots clean. He could be covered head-to-ankle in blood, but you won’t see a drop land on his boots. If you see him bashing someone’s skull in, you can be sure it’s via crowbar or his fists, but never his boots.
Well, not unless you really piss him off.
It’s only happened twice, and the stories told don’t all line up, twisting and morphing as they get passed from person to person, truly becoming like Crime Alley mythology.
The only ones who know what really happened are the Bats.
The first time was just after his arrival and subsequent take-over. There weren’t witnesses, but a pair of bloody boots were found tucked right beside a duffel bag full of heads.
The second time, it was a child trafficking ring. Those types are far from welcome in Crime Alley or the Bowery as a whole, let alone greater Gotham. Even talking about it could earn you a bullet to the skull if you’re not careful.
But idiots are idiots, and they get what’s coming to them.
The scene itself was a massacre. The dead had to be identified with dental records, and even those were hard to piece together as multiple teeth were knocked loose and missing. Their faces were sunken in, brain matter scattered behind them.
Tucked neatly against the brick alley wall were a pair of boots, a single splash of blood on the steel toes.
CCTV footage, pulled by Oracle herself, displayed in grainy-quality as Hood froze up mid-swing, staring down at his boots. Then, stiffly walking toward the wall, toeing them off and tucking in the laces.
If these cameras had audio, it would have picked up the litany of curses as he grumbled “these are my good boots, damn it.”
