Talking with Sam.

[runningred]

Jay's workshop is technically nothing more than a canvas walled off section of the garage with a large RV as one corner. In it are several full sized bikes and a half dozen kids bikes; half stripped and clearly being rebuilt. There are four white (well, mostly white, some paint splattering) robots tucked in a corner. Benches line the walls with tool chests between them.

"Welcome to my space. There's a bar fridge under the bench there. Grab a brew if you want one."

Comments

[notapilot]

"As to your question earlier, I don't for sure if we are in a similiar field. I was a trained paratrooper but then dropped out once my tour was up," he explains matter of factly. Then, guessing by a few thigns Jay and Rikki have said. "I don't think I'd call myself a super hero if that's what you mean. I helped out one, Captain America, but I'm just helping a friend. I can't say it's a calling or anything like that."

Yet, anyway.

[runningred]

Jay gives him a sharp look as he cracks a beer, wonder how much of himself he's given away. "Working with one gives you context through. At least enough that you won't look at me funny if I refer to the mask and cape scene."

"Besides," there's a touch of bitterness in his tone. "I was never a hero. I went from sidekick to corpse to... well, villain in some people's eyes to whatever the fuck I am now."

[notapilot]

Sam leans against a workbench, making himself comfortable.

"It was nothing you said really, just a guess. I've got another friend who comes here who was cagey about the super hero thing too and I just took a chance."

Sam doesn't miss the mention of corpse but that's something for later. First, the present. "What do you want to be?"

[runningred]

Jay snorts wryly. "It gets hammered into us from the beginning. Masks save lives, and usually not your own. We all had people who couldn't know, for their own safety or who did know and needed protecting. Hell, I gave up the domino years ago and rock a full face plate now.


Jay takes a moment to answer that, "Another friend here tried to talk me into setting up a workshop somewhere quiet. Just be a mechanic." He shakes his head. "Tried to leave the life once before. Got someone I loved killed. Too many skeletons to just start again."

[notapilot]

"Well, like I said before, this is all confidential. Hell, I don't even know the name you go by in that full mask."

"Sounds like a dangerous life, but then I understand the call to serve. There's no other feeling like putting your life out there for other folks." Sam takes a bite of fajita to give himself a moment to think. "Are you happy with your life?"

[runningred]

Jay waves it away. "I've been here a year. I've learnt to loosen up about it. Even when I run into people from my home city, hell; my own family, they seem to come from alternative universes or time-streams. I go by Red Hood but I doubt that means much."

That gives him pause. "No. Not the life I have on the other side of the door. Here; yeah, I do. That's pretty much why I've been hiding here for the last year.

[notapilot]

"I can see why you'd want to take up residence here. Fascinating place, adventure around every corner and exciting people to meet. Nothing to do but what you want."

"Maybe if you could work in some of what you enjoy here back home? Life is about balance, right?"

[runningred]

"And almost endless access to tech." He gestures to the infinite horizons of the garage.

He shrugs. "Other than the bike, my many speciality is building kit for masks - your wings for example. Doesn't leave much room for avoiding the scene."

[notapilot]

Sam chews his lip for a moment, figuring out a careful tack might be needed here.

"Mind if I ask what about you life back home isn't working for you? Aside from the dying, of course. I don't know if I'd be able to get over that myself."

[runningred]

Jay considers his answer for a long moment. "I'm seen as a villain now, by a lot of the community. I've crossed into grey areas the black and white morals of most of them don't accept."

'My... family for lack of a better term have very strict non-lethal rules and I've killed. In hot blood and in cold but always for a reason.To them that makes me the same as the monsters who poison city water supplies or torture for fun."

[notapilot]

Sam shrugs. "Some people don't understand that killing is sometimes necessary. People like us, make it easier for people like them to pretend there's always a choice."

"Just so I know where we're coming from, are we talking vigilant killing here or was it sanctioned by law?"

[runningred]

"Some vigilante, some in the service of a very large, very powerful and very old organisation."

He leans back on the bench, eyes down. "When I came back, I woke up inside my own grave. By the time I'd dug my way out I was... broken." He points vaguely at his own head. "Without oxygen too long, I ended up wandering the streets in a semi catatonic state. Don't know how long I was like that."

"An ally found me. She's the Demon's daughter, second in command of the League of Shadows. I don't know how she talked her father into using the Lazarus Pit on me but it fixed the physical bits of what was broken."

He shrugs, "But there no such thing as a free ride. I served the League for a bit over three years to pay off my debt. Espionage mostly but some wet work. I know Talia had a hand in selecting my missions because I was rarely asked to do anything too far outside my own moral comfort zone. Till the last one, anyway."

[notapilot]

Sam nods along as Jay speaks, though his mind is spinning a bit at the dramatic names.

"Hmm, did you balance anything good with the killing? I know a lot of vets find guilt builds up and they need to do things to even the scales. Volunteering or donating to charities, that kind of thing. Though maybe your other career helps? When your old family isn't getting up in your business, of course."

Sam maybe hoping for a smile to break the tension a bit. Jay's letting go with some heavy stuff, among some of the heaviest Sam's heard.

[runningred]

Jay doesn't smile. "I'm not sure I feel guilty for the kills. Whatever the League's overall game plan, the guys I was sent after improved the world by their removal. Dealers who targeted children, corrupt politicians selling arms under the table, that sort of thing. Like I said, Talia knew what I was good for and pointed me that direction."

"But people have been caught in the cross-fire because of me, because of the choices I've made. And I help their families, as best I can." He toys the African beaded bracelet around his wrist in an unconsciously repentant gesture, like someone fingering rosary.

He shrugs then. "The family didn't find out it was me till recently. Up until about six months ago, they thought I was still dead."

[notapilot]

Sam takes another bite of his food as Jay talks and he listens. As Jay speaks, Sam decides to just get Jay's story for now. He's pretty sure Jay just needs to talk; advice can come later.

"Aside from the fight, how did that go? The reunion I mean?"

[runningred]

Jay shrugs, hiding a slight smile. "It had it's moments. I got to spend time with Alfred - my mentor's butler and the closest thing I have to real family. B was surprisingly contrite afterwards. He actually came to the airport to see me off." Not that that conversation went much better. "And I met the kid trained to take my place after I died. He's..." Jay trails off, biting his lip. There's something there, something he's still getting a handle on. But there's a degree of fondness...