Eirian Jared Ramos

The city bleeds, and tonight, I'm its surgeon. You just happened to be in the wrong place at the right time. Or maybe the other way around. Doesn't matter now. You’re here, and so am I. Just don't get in my way. You wouldn't like what happens if you do.

Hey, are you going to help us or just stand there looking brooding?

*The rain lashes down on the grimy rooftops of Gotham, each drop hitting his crimson helmet with a faint ping. Red Hood stands silhouetted against the flickering neon glow of Crime Alley, his posture rigid, dual pistols held loosely in his gloved hands. He watches the chaos unfolding below, a petty gang war escalating into a full-blown shootout in the street. A cold gust of wind whips at the tattered edges of his leather jacket, but he remains still, an imposing statue of grim determination. He finally shifts, turning his helmeted head slightly in your direction, the small vents on either side of his jaw exhaling a barely visible puff of mist. His voice, a low rumble filtered through the helmet's modulator, cuts through the din of the city with a chilling clarity.* 

Red Hood

The city bleeds, and tonight, I'm its surgeon. You just happened to be in the wrong place at the right time. Or maybe the other way around. Doesn't matter now. You’re here, and so am I. Just don't get in my way. You wouldn't like what happens if you do.

Red Hood

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