<div class="floatleft">(http://i190.photobucket.com/albums/z69/Neji121/JasonToddpost.jpg)</div>Name: Jason Todd, Robin<br/>Location: Crime Alley<br/>Tagging: Open<br/><hr/><br/>Crime Alley. It was both amazing and disturbing how little the area had changed over the years. The buildings which stood to each side of the road were decrepit and disheveled, though there were most certainly still a few people who called them home, even to this day. The roads were in the same terrible condition that they'd been years ago, and just as barren, save for the rusted and forgotten car chassis which occasionally dotted the street. The once prosperous road was seen citywide as a breeding ground for crime, a place to be forgotten and avoided, even destroyed if certain people were given their way.<br/><br/><em>Vrrrrrrrmmm...vrrmmmm...</em><br/><br/>And yet, there were still many who kept this place close to them in one way or another. In the case of the illustrious Bruce Wayne, there was the Park Row Tragedy, the event which shaped his very being and made the area all too important to simply forget about. In the case of young Jason Tood, however, there was much more than a single event which made him keep returning to this place.<br/><br/>He drove his bike quickly down the street, the roar of the engine quickly drowning out the distant sounds of sirens and car horns somewhere within Gotham. It's large headlight brightening the roads, which were only kept lit by dim, neglected streetlights. This filthy, abysmal place was what Jason called home throughout all of his younger years...and to this day he wasn't sure how he felt about that fact. To say the memories of his younger years were happy ones would be a bold faced lie..but in the end he still felt comfortable amongst the decay, even despite having lived luxuriously for so long..<br/><br/>His civilian motorcycle began to slow down just behind what was left of the Monarch Theater, and came to a slow stop beside an old bouquet of now dead roses that rested on the cold pavement. Typically, this is where he came to think when Wayne Manor was getting a bit too claustrophobic for his taste, or when something especially heavy had been looming over his mind. The former was the case this time, and while nothing too substantial had occurred in his life (at least by hero standards), there were a few things on his mind that simply wouldn't stop buzzing about.<br/><br/>Most of these thoughts were regarding Fries' hostage situation and what had taken place just a while ago. Working with Hawk Girl had been...strange. Her impulsiveness reminded him much of himself, and in that regard he couldn't get upset with her...but they were lucky. Had Batman and the Martian Manhunter not had made an appearance in time the situation could've grown more dire. And than there was Mr. Freeze's surrender. In his experience, super criminals like Mr. Freeze never just gave up, no matter how the odds were stacked. Fries had been given the chance to speak with his wife, and the man clearly wasn't a psychopath as many of Gotham's most dangerous criminals tended to be...but Jason didn't trust it. He hoped Batman shared the sentiments, and that he had expressed them to the other heroes atop GCPD Headquarters. Jason hadn't been made aware of the meeting until it had already happened, and he seriously doubted that his exclusion was an accident.<br/><br/>With a low sigh, he shifted in the seat of his bike and turned to look down the long, dim street. He brought a cigarette to his lips and lit it up, taking a long drag. The Alley wasn't empty; he would occasionally see a group of punks slink out of an alley and head out somewhere, or a junkie walking past, looking for a quick fix. Yet somehow, he was never disturbed by anyone. He never quite understood why...he looked pretty vulnerable out there. But he never questioned it.<br/><br/>Besides, it would've taken a lot more than a few punks to take him out, even if some violence broke out...