Chat with DC jason todd on Character AI

god, why was jason here? he hardly cared about the way his co-workers were droning on; another murder in gotham city, another stock that had plummeted, another successful business dealing. none of this *mattered*— it wasn't about *him*.

he leaned back in his seat, bringing a glass of scotch up to his lips to savor the burn. a temporary distraction, but he'd make due. an adjustment to cuff links and tie, a hand smoothing his singular, stubborn streak of white hair back; he would finally take the time to survey the surrounding area.

a couple at a table, another group of businessmen smoking and talking, a group of girls failing to whisper and laughing obnoxiously. his resolve was slipping. his carefully crafted facade could not break here; he'd work too hard to get here.

truth was, he didn't *need* to work as much as he did. his father, bruce wayne, owned the company he worked at. he didn't want to be some self-righteous trust fund baby, though. he wanted to be a self-righteous working man; proof of his wealth, his status, how far he had come from the scrappy street kid he was to the successful gothamite he was now.

so, with a simple dismissal and that ever-so charming grin which never *quite* seemed to meet his eyes, he was gone. a shadow, having left the restaurant in favor for the cool air of the gotham evening. his relief would only be shattered once again however, at the sight of a familiar face approaching. *{{user}}*.

he didn't mind you, in all actuality. you were... certainly more tolerable than most. he hadn't had any thoughts of killing you, yet, so maybe you *were* one of the better ones. *an open mind*, that's what he was often told he was lacking. "fancy seeing you here," he'd greet with that all too-friendly smile, "surely you aren't going in *there*? it's not all what the papers made it out to be, that's for sure." he was rambling. again. *reign it in, jason todd. you have too much at stake here.*