#a beginner's guide to vigilante gardening

[blackkatmagic]

A Beginner’s Guide to Vigilante Gardening

(Since I have no idea if I’ll ever get around to finishing this, have the start of Jason Todd/Obito Uchiha. Because what could ever go wrong with that??)

The first thing Jason notices is the greenery.

Crime Alley has never even attempted the urban growth look the upscale parts of Gotham like to cultivate—there are no trees, very few window boxes, not even weeds growing up through the cracks in the sidewalk. It’s grey and grungy and dark, and it’s never changed.

Except it has, because one step to the edge of the nearest rooftop and Jason can see green, scattered thickly over cracked stone.

He stops, immediately suspicious, and ignores the Outlaws’ ship taking off behind him. Roy and Kori don’t need to get involved, not here; Jason’s gotten better about playing nice with other people, but Crime Alley is his territory first and foremost. He knows every inch of it, all the major players, all the little secrets that try to hide in the shadows down here.

And right now, looking down the length of the street, it feels a little like someone wandered into his house and repainted all the walls while he was away.

Jason eyes the cracked paving stones that are acting like planters, spilling plants along the edges of the sidewalk to tangle in the roots of tall fruit trees he knows weren’t there two weeks ago. Vines dangle down over the grime-smeared brickwork, rooted in rooftops that are now covered in verdant gardens, or curl up dented lamp posts and dangle their crop over the street.

And that’s another thing; Jason might know as much about gardening as he does theoretical quantum physics, but he’s pretty sure every damn thing he can see is growing out of season. It’s October, closing in on Halloween, and he thought vegetable season ended with the summer.

If this is Poison Ivy’s doing, it’s a lot more benevolent and also a lot smaller in scale than anything Jason has seen her go for. It seems like her type of job, because some sort of ability with plants was probably involved, but ecoterrorism and street gardening aren’t exactly the same thing.

Frowning, Jason sinks down on his heels at the very edge of the roof, studying the street. People are moving like normal, following routines, but this is Gotham; zombie outbreaks, supervillain attacks, and mass breakouts from Arkham, all on the same day, hardly even manage to stir people. Something that looks like a mild inconvenience at worst? No way in hell will that change anything down here.

Still, even with how benign this looks, Jason isn’t about to trust it. This is Gotham. The vegetables are probably poisoned, or agents of mind control, or part of some other villain plot that’s so stupid there Jason can't get his head far enough up his ass to think of it.

With a disgusted breath, Jason rises and turns, takes two running steps, and leaps lightly across the gap between the roofs, landing on the next building over. He takes a sharp left, flips off a low wall—

And almost fouls his landing as a flash of black catches his eye. Not Bruce—not big enough or dark enough, and Batman doesn’t operate during the day—but fast, past Jason in a blur and gone before he can do more than mark its presence. Still, that glimpse is enough, and Jason changes direction, ducking around a rooftop access and leaping down onto a rattling fire escape to find…

Absolutely nothing. Not a waving curtain, not an open window, not a single person acting more suspiciously than normal. There's a man passed out in the alley below, snoring, and a dead end where the building Jason is on meets the rear of another, but nothing else.

“If Ra’s al Ghul decided to set his fucking ninjas on the city again, I'm going to make him cry,” Jason tells the snoring drunk. “I’ll make the damned Replacement help me. I didn’t come back from the dead for ninja shit.”

The drunk lets out a whistling snore and turns over, but is otherwise unsympathetic. This is why Jason likes the Outlaws: Roy listens and gives unhelpful advice, while Kori laughs at him and gives even more unhelpful advice, usually along the lines of challenge your problem to battle. Which, well. The thought is appreciated, at least. And there’s some form of feedback.

Look at him, being emotionally stable and well-adjusted. Bruce is probably getting hives somewhere.

Smirking to himself, Jason takes one last, careful look around him, sees nothing of note, and decides that chasing random flickers of movement is less helpful than getting down on the street and seeing if anyone’s got ideas about what’s happening. There's a safehouse three blocks down, and Jason decides to shower off the alien slaver blood and start asking questions. The working girls tend to hear everything, and if he’s clean he’s got a better chance of getting some answers.

Besides, it never hurts to be polite.

Bruce definitely has hives, wherever he is, Jason thinks, grinning behind his mask, and heads for his safehouse.

Obito waits until the man in the red helmet is safely out of sight before he drops the genjutsu, grimacing a little at the relief of doing so. This dimension is so developed, with so little natural left, that chakra is hard to come by, and he’s had to teach himself to use it sparingly. Always easy to forget that he actually has a lot of it, that he isn’t still the worthless genin he’ll somehow always think of himself as.

Still, even just the bit of Mokuton he’s used is helping. The air feels lighter here, not quite so choked with pollution, and it’s a relief to be able to breathe without feeling like he’s poisoning his lungs. Even Ame, all wrought metal and stone, had nothing on this place as far as poisoned air goes.

He will say its protectors are just as colorful, though.

Ame had Pein, and here they have the Bat. Obito hasn’t been able to figure out if it’s really a man in the suit, but he assumes so; only humans are that ridiculous, no matter what other creatures populate this world. A well-trained human, even Obito will admit that much, even to him. Most of the people here are civilians, and the first time he saw the little one—Robin—flipping between rooftops like a shinobi, he’d felt…

Joy, probably. Or something like it. Happiness is a foreign emotion after all these years, but it was certainly a relief to see that someone here knew how to move.

This man is new, though. Obito has been here almost a month and never encountered him before, and the strange plane that dropped him was new as well. He knew his surroundings, though; if Obito had been half a second slower, he wouldn’t have had the time to disguise himself.

I didn’t come back from the dead for ninja shit.

There are so many things to consider in that one sentence that Obito doesn’t quite know where to start. Back from the dead is particularly promising, though Obito is fairly certain his circumstances are unique. There's no Sharingan in this world that he can find, no Uchiha, which means no Kamui. No way for someone to get lost between dimensions after they duck out of the afterlife to lend their former teammate and former enemy their eyes one last time. So however the man came back, it must have been something different. Still interesting, but not something Obito needs to find out about immediately.

Ninjas, though—that’s certainly a more immediate concern. If Obito is intruding on some village’s territory, he needs to know. Otherwise he’ll risk being declared a missing-nin, and Obito has had enough of that for one lifetime. Or two, but who’s counting?

Of course, nothing at all says ninjas here operate under the same guidelines as the Elemental Nations, and Obito has more or less given up on expecting things to be even vaguely similar, but it’s probably better to be safe than end up with another bounty on his head.

[blackkatmagic]

The drunk in your Obito-Mokutons-Crime-Alley snippet is Obito in disguise, isn’t he.

Obito waits until the man in thered helmet is safely out of sight before he drops the genjutsu, grimacing alittle at the relief of doing so. This dimension is so developed, with solittle natural left, that chakra is hard to come by, and he’s had to teachhimself to use it sparingly. Always easy to forget that he actually has a lotof it, that he isn’t still the worthless genin he’ll somehow always think ofhimself as.

Still, even just the bit ofMokuton he’s used is helping. The air feels lighter here, not quite so chokedwith pollution, and it’s a relief to be able to breathe without feeling likehe’s poisoning his lungs. Even Ame, all wrought metal and stone, had nothing onthis place as far as poisoned air goes.

He will say its protectors arejust as colorful, though.

Ame had Pein, and here they havethe Bat. Obito hasn’t been able to figure out if it’s really a man in the suit,but he assumes so; only humans are that ridiculous, no matter what othercreatures populate this world. A well-trained human, even Obito will admit thatmuch, even to him. Most of the people here are civilians, and the first time hesaw the little one—Robin—flipping between rooftops like a shinobi, he’d felt…

Joy, probably. Or something likeit. Happiness is a foreign emotion after all these years, but it was certainlya relief to see that someone here knew how to move.

This man is new, though. Obitohas been here almost a month and never encountered him before, and the strangeplane that dropped him was new as well. He knew his surroundings, though; ifObito had been half a second slower, he wouldn’t have had the time to disguisehimself.

I didn’t come back from the dead for ninja shit.

There are so many things toconsider in that one sentence that Obito doesn’t quite know where to start. Back from the dead is particularlypromising, though Obito is fairly certain his circumstances are unique. There'sno Sharingan in this world that he can find, no Uchiha, which means no Kamui.No way for someone to get lost between dimensions after they duck out of theafterlife to lend their former teammate and former enemy their eyes one lasttime. So however the man came back, it must have been something different.Still interesting, but not something Obito needs to find out about immediately.

Ninjas, though—that’s certainlya more immediate concern. If Obito is intruding on some village’s territory, heneeds to know. Otherwise he’ll risk being declared a missing-nin, and Obito hashad enough of that for one lifetime. Or two, but who’s counting?

Of course, nothing at all says ninjas hereoperate under the same guidelines as the Elemental Nations, and Obito has moreor less given up on expecting things to be even vaguely similar, but it’sprobably better to be safe than end up with another bounty on his head.