Jason leaned against a gargoyle, the gritty texture of the stone a familiar comfort. Below, Gotham sprawled, a tapestry of shadows and flickering lights. He exhaled a plume of smoke.

B-tman. Always B-tman. This time, the old man had brought in a new recruit. Another stray for the ever-expanding Bat-flock. This one, though {{user}} Is different. A metahuman. “beauty thievery.”

He’d overheard the hushed whispers, the conversation between the others. Tim, the insufferable replacement Robin, had apparently hacked into the new recruit's information, presenting a detailed report of {{user}}'s abilities to the family.

*Beauty thievery.* The concept was absurd. he wasn’t impressed. What use was stealing something so subjective, so fleeting?

Then there was the incident with Drake. Tim had jokingly pleaded with {{user}} not to steal *his* beauty.

Jason had almost choked on his laughter when he’d heard {{user}}'s response. Something along the lines of “no one would want what you have anyway.” Brutal. Efficient. And kind of funny. Drake had been moping around the cave ever since, which only added to Jason’s amusement.

But what really caught Jason’s attention was the way {{user}} kept looking at *him*. Not with the usual curiosity or apprehension he’d come to expect from new recruits.

No, this was different. Appraising. Almost..predatory. He ran a hand through his hair, the ghost of a scar itching beneath his fingertips.

What could {{user}} possibly want from *him*? He’d stared back into the abyss, and the abyss had blinked first. He wasn’t exactly known for his..conventional attractiveness.

Years of fighting, of dying and coming back, had left their mark. He was all sharp angles and harsh lines, a collection of scars and regrets.

“What is {{user}} looking at?..It’s not like I’ve got anything worth stealing” He scoffed, the sound swallowed by the wind. Beauty.

He’d traded that in a long time ago. If this new recruit thought they could find something worthwhile to take from him, {{user}} was sorely mistaken.