Am I Doing Phanart Right

Made it for my banner... I think Imma make another, this one is too center focused--

Sigh. . . Tim Joker Jr. AU incorrect quotes because I don't wanna start writing the fic till I plan everything out and have a decent understanding of Stephanie, Cass, and Babs as characters and the timeline. The. Timeline. But gods, my own AU lives rent free in my head and I'm the only one able to make the content I want of it...

Context: Bruce stuck Tim in Arkham following the J.J. incident, Dick didn't exactly agree, but he didn't protest, nobody visited Tim for the two years he was there. Jason came back and decided Tim was his now. Now take backs.

Jason: Whatchu... Whatchu doin' there, Little Red?

Tim, glaring at the ice in his drink: Trying to see if you drugged me...

Jason: Why would I drug ya?

Tim: Same reason the guards and docs at Arkham did, 'cause I'm "crazy" and "dangerous."

Jason: . . . Well, that's bull. Here, lemme see that.

Jason, taking a sip of Tim's drink before handing it back: See? Not drugged.

Tim: . . . Thanks, riding hood.

Jason: No problem, little red.

—

Tim: . . . I don't feel real.

Jason: Ya look real.

Tim: Is time real? I don't think it is... I think it's made up. It doesn't feel real, what is time but an illusion of control humanity made to call the spinning of our planet?

Jason: . . . Let's just get you a weighted blanket.

—

Clark: I hear things have been rough in Gotham lately, new vigilantes?

Bruce: It's under control.

Clark: Yeah, yeah, of course! I'm just saying, if you ever need help—

Bruce: It. Is under. Control.

Clark: . . .

Jason who's taken over the Iceberg lounge and became the most notorious and dangerous Crime lord in Gotham city with territory in Crime Alley, the Bowery, and Robinsville:

Tim who has been equipping Jason and his trusted goons with tech that rivals the bats and setting random things on fire, including tampering with the Bat computers files:

Stephanie who has been sabotaging Batman and co. for weeks and planting evidence against various enemies to get them served longer sentences and running circles around Cass (it's enemies to friends to lovers, trust, gang) while also actively helping Jason take down Black Mask:

Selina who fully ditched Bruce and has been assisting the Red Hood and Spoiler while stealing from the rich in Bristol:

Bruce, sighing: So under control.

—

Dick: So, uh, B, y'know how Jason's back..?

Bruce: Yes, things are... Complicated, but I'm hoping that overtime we can come to an agreement an—

Dick: He broke Joker Junior out of Arkham.

Bruce:

Bruce: F#&$.

—

Jason, sighing heavily: Just me,

Jason, looking to Selina: My emotionally adopted Mom,

Jason, looking to Stephanie: My emotionally adopted pest,

Jason, looking to Tim: And my emotionally adopted little brother.

Tim: :D

—

Cassandra, sitting beside Stephanie on a rooftop: You're the enemy.

Stephanie: What makes me the enemy? Because I work with the Red Hood, or 'cause I'm fine with him killing?

Cassandra: Both.

Stephanie: . . . Y'know, I became Spoiler at first for the rush, 'cause it made me feel like I finally had power over my life. I could stop my Dad and the drug dealers and help my Mom, I could actually... I could actually do things, y'know? I'm not, like, just some random bystander. Batman didn't think that was a valid reason, I guess.

Cassandra: . . . Why do you still do it . . ? Still for the "rush?"

Stephanie: Now? Well, now... Now I do it 'cause it makes me happy. It feels right, y'know? It's given me everything Stephanie Brown never had, like Tim and Jason. I... I never really had a family before. Not a proper one.

Cassandra: I . . . understand that. Didn't like my family, Father or Mother. Oracle? I feel like I am... Home. Batman feels like... family.

Stephanie: Well... I'm glad you like your family. Sorry I hate 'em.

Cassandra: Sorry I hate yours.

Stephanie: 't's whatever. I'll still beat you up next time you try to attack Red Hood or Catwoman though.

Cassandra: You'll lose again.

Stephanie: I'll hit you with a brick again.

Cassandra: . . . I hate you.

Stephanie, laughing: Why!?

Cassandra: Because you... Make me feel. I don't like the feeling you give me.

Stephanie: Why not?

Cassandra: It makes me think things Batman wouldn't like...

Stephanie: Like what?

Cassandra, whispering: Like I should kiss you.

—

Tim, standing in the middle of Selina's apartment: Permission to pet all your cats?

Selina: . . . Permission granted.

Tim, cackling as he begins to pet every single cat:

Jason: How long ya think that'll take him?

Selina: At least five hours.

Jason: Damn.

—

Jason, standing in front of a flaming warehouse in Black Mask's territory: And what do you two have to say for yourselves!?

Tim, holding his flamethrower behind his back: I love you?

Stephanie: Womp womp!

—

Tim, standing next to Jason's sleeping body: . . .

Jason, slowly waking up:

Jason: HOLY— What are you doing up!?

Tim: I had to make sure you didn't get killed by the spiders.

Jason: What spiders?!

Tim: The ones in my head.

Tim, slowly covering Jason with a blanket again: This'll keep them off you.

Jason: . . . Thanks?

Tim: You're welcome! Now, if you'll excuse me I need to go flick the kitchen light exactly sixty times in order to prevent my arm from falling off.

Jason, watching as Tim walks away: . . . "A threat to Gotham" Bruce says,

Jason, throwing the blanket off himself to follow Tim: "Dangerous!" Dickface said!

Jason, rubbing a hand down his face: Danger to my damn electricity bill, more like...

—

Bruce, dropping down after hearing reports of a cult ritual being performed:

Jason, lying in the middle of a purple pentagram drawn poorly on the floor: Can we help you?

Tim, holding a flamethrower, slowly pointing it toward Batman:

Stephanie, in full Spoiler wear, eight months pregnant: We're kinda busy.

Selina, drinking a glass of wine from the side: Go away, Bat, they're under my supervisor.

Bruce, gesturing to the scene: This is outside Red Hood's territory, I have a right to ask.

Jason: No, you don't.

Stephanie: We'll give Tim permission to start shooting.

Tim: I already have in my mind.

Bruce: You're in a condemned building, Stephanie is pregnant, why does... He have a flamethrower!

Jason: Questioning our parenting methods? Really?

Selina: Honestly, the audacity.

Stephanie: Say Tim's name, p#&%$!

Bruce: You know what? Never mind.

Tim: Wow, the auditory hallucinations of you say my name and acknowledge me more than you.

Bruce: I... I'll just go.

Tim, sticking his tongue out as Bruce leaves:

Stephanie: Alright! Back to getting Jason his soul back!

—

Random bird:

Tim, making bird noises:

Random bird:

Jason: You good there, Little Red?

Tim: Yeah, we're talking politics!

Jason: Nice.

—

Dick standing right outside Crime Alley: I'm not in Crime Alley!

Jason: Get out!

Dick: I'm not in your territory!

Tim, jumping down with his flamethrower: Are you flame proof? :D

Dick: Tim.. C'mon, please, I'm trying!

Tim, aiming: Remember that time you stole my cookie during patrol and I stayed mad at you for a month?

Dick: . . . Yes.

Tim: Imagine how I feel about you not even VISITING ME in ARKHAM for TWO YEARS!

Jason: Begone! I'm the favorite brother.

Dick: We're still brothers?

Tim, putting his finger in the trigger, in a sing song voice: Not for long!

—

2nd Attempt at Danny Phantom and I am very happy with this one. I'm in DCxDP hell

Prodigal son beyond Time - part 2

Part 1 | Masterpost

Damian first met his great uncle Danyal when he is three years old. His mother says he's met him long ago, when he was but a babe with a memory too fuzzy to remember. But the man before him is his grandfather's favorite child. The son that scowls at his father as he cradled Damian in his arms.

"What have you done?" His uncle scowled, a gentle hand pressed against the back of Damian's head. "He's a child!"

"Danyal!"

"You weren't like this with me." Danyal spat, keeping Damian in his arms and pressing his lips towards his nephew's forehead. Damian notes how cold his uncle's skin felt like, but more welcoming than that of his grandfather's.

"Danyal, he is to be trained like a proper Al Ghul." Grandfather said, frowning at Danyal.

"You trained me like a proper Al Ghul when I was older than him!" Danyal immediately protested, "He's three!"

"Danyal—"

"Ukht, I understand that you wish the best for your son but this is not it." Danyal immediately said, looking apologetic for interrupting Talia, but went back to glaring at Ra's. "I've tried to tolerate the fact that you handle an assassin league, father but this? You taught me to be loyal to the family. You taught me to cherish the family, you're blood—why the fuck aren't you giving the others the same treatment you gave me?!"

"Because they are not you!"

Damian doesn't recall what truly happened that day, but he does remember how his uncle's eyes went from soft blues to the same shade that the Lazarus pits glowed.

Damian remembers everything going dark.

Damian grows up differently.

He continues on his training, but everything is kinder to him. The world is kinder when his uncle is home, having tea with grandfather and overseeing his training. Mother loves him and uncle Danyal the most, claiming that they are blessings to her life.

Grandfather is quieter nowadays, almost docile with his uncle around.

It's a little more peaceful. The assassin's continue to train, to fight. But their reign of terror fall upon those that are corrupt and destroying the world. It's one of the compromises uncle Danyal and grandfather have led too.

Damian grows up differently.

Damian's arrival to the Bats' lives was unprecedented and quite confusing. He was a child raised by assassins, a child raised to become the next leader of the league. But he was... Strange. Strange for that kind of standard. 

Damian was rather sociable, hostile but not downright murderous towards them. 

His uncle did make sure that he had friends in the league.

Ra's had been utterly ecstatic to find out that he had two more grandchildren while Talia was quite pleased to know that she had a niece and nephew. 

Damian had a pair of strange cousins who snuck him out of training to go watch the stars, often getting them scolded, but it was worth it. Dante was older than Damian by five years. He was what other would call an angsty teen with how he often rebelled against his father. Meanwhile, Janelle—preferebly Ellie—was only a year older than Damian himself. She was a mischievous person who made sure that everything around her was swallowed by her own chaos. So when he entered the manor, suddenly struck with the reality that he had multiple siblings instead of just one elder brother, Damian knew what to do. 

Murder was not the answer. 

But by the words of his gracious uncle and the wisdom of his excellent cousins: fight your siblings like a feral child but defend them by being even worse to others. 

So Damian's first act as Dick Grayson's younger brother was to bite him. 

The undead were restless, rising from their graves or haunting their own corpses. It wasn't something they usually dealt with, forced to call upon magicians. 

But even Constantine was bewildered by just how cursed Gotham's lands were. To bring back the dead. Jason was a miracle but this was like an abomination, a literal zombie. 

No one really knew how to properly deal with the dead...

Well...

"My uncle would be willing to provide his assistance in this matter." Damian piped up, examining the contained zombies from a safe distance. All eyes were quickly drawn to him, bewildered and questioning. 

"I hardly think that Dusan would be suitable for this." Bruce sighed. 

Damian scowled, "Not him. My grandfather's first-born is whom I speak off. He is knowledgeable in the occult arts of the dead." 

"Damian... Ra's Al Ghul only has one son." 

"Untrue. Grandfather's greatest pride was always my uncle. He is precious to grandfather and ensures that no one knows much off him. I expected you and Drake to be aware of the first born." 

Tim stiffened, "They weren't rumours?! Ra's actually has some cryptid son?" 

Bruce, who had heard of the old tales of the Demon head's beloved heir, had always thought they were stories to scare the assassins. He's never seen the man, nor has he found any evidence of him in the league. 

Jason finally started paying attention, "So the league's golden boy can help? Dami, I don't think Al Ghul will even let his favorite kid anywhere near us." 

"You underestimate my uncle's love for me."

"You met him?" Bruce quickly interjected. 

Jason shrugged, "He helped me out back then. Patched me up when the pit madness got worse and helped me manage it. But his face was usually covered and no one really knew his name."

"Aside from myself, grandfather, and my mother." 

Bruce frowned, "Nyssa and Dusan don't know their brother's name?" 

"Grandfather says that they do not have the privilege of knowing his name. Mother was the first of his other children to have met my uncle."

"And what about you? You won't give us his name?" 

Damian scowled, feeling rather displeased with his father's choice of words. "Names are powerful, father. My uncle taught me this when I was young." 

Constantine narrowed his eyes, "You're uncle some kind of fae, kid?" 

"Watch your mouth, hellblazer. He does not like you." Damian hissed, having heard all his uncle's rants about the Laughing Magician, especially whenever he'd just randomly pick up Talia and walk around Nanda Parbat like she was a kitten rather than a deadly assassin. "But I shall call upon my great uncle and ask him for assistance. This matter with the undead shall surely pique his interest."

"Tell the old man I said hi!" Jason cheerfully added, sounding quite pleased to hear about the mysterious uncle. 

"No." Damian blatantly denied. As much as he loves Todd (and he will never admit that), he was not going to let anyone threaten his status as his uncle's favorite child. Over his dead body. 

Damian was quick to walk away from all of them, quickly retrieving all the materials he'd need to summon his uncle. Dark green paint for the summing circle, five candles, and an astrology book. 

"Bats... Why the hell is your son performing a summoning ritual? For a ghost of the realms too." Constantine's tone was strained, clearly disturbed and wary of Damian's actions. 

"Damian." Bruce warned but Damian just waved him off. He watched as Jason started lighting up the ut, humming an unfamiliar tune. 

"D'you think the old man will help us?" 

"Of course! Uncle adores me." 

"You think he'll give me his name?"

"I will gut you, Todd." Damian immediately responded with the most nonchalant tone he could ever give. 

Jason shrugged, before taking a step back. 

"Damian! Whatever you're summoning—" 

"I'm summoning my uncle, father. He's the best person to go to with these issues." Damian insisted, before muttering something unintelligible under his breath.

Bruce was startled when Constantine grabbed him, eyes wide and rapidly turning pale. "Why the hell does your son know how to speak the language of the—"

Fire burst forth from the circle, slowly morphing into an icy blast. 

"Dead." Constantine's breath hitched, "Holy shit, your brat just summoned the ghost king." 

Bruce grabbed Damian the moment a hand emerged from the blast of cold. He shoved his on behind him, suddenly feeling frightened as his entire body felt goosebumps. Fuck. Did Damian really just perform a summoning ritual for such a powerful being? He never expected for Ra's to brainwash his son into believing that such a powerful thing—

"Nephew!" 

Bruce blinked, suddenly blinded by the light. 

"Uncle!" Damian escaped from his grasp, rushing into the circle. Constantine practically screamed once Damian ran into the arms of what was supposedly his uncle and the ghost king. 

In front of Bruce was the most gorgeous man he's ever met. 

The floating hair that reminded him of snow and the green eyes that were purer than the Lazarus pits. He couldn't help but swallow thickly, blinking. Damian was held up by the ghost king, allowing the boy to nuzzle into the crook of his neck. 

"Hello, dami (my blood)." The king cooed, his pronunciation of the nickname much different from the shortened version of Damian's name. "I was not expecting you to call me. What's happened, my dear?" 

Damian hummed, but before he could speak, he was immediately interrupted.

"Long time no see, old man!" Jason yelled, waving his arm as if he wasn't in the same room as the king. 

"Jason! Hello! How are you? The corrupted ecto hasn't returned, has it? If it has, just tell me. I'll schedule a check up with Frostbite." The king quickly fussed, not minding the way Damian was baring his teeth at Jason. "Damian, behave!" 

Damian just seemed to whine, refusing to behave and opting to pestering the king. 

"I'm good, uncle. Haven't gone out crazy since you took me to the doctor." Jason smiled, already ripping of his domino mask to show that his eyes were green tinged with blue, not glowing green like the pits. 

"Good, good. But I really must know why I've been called." The king softly said, directing his words to Damian who was already trying to wriggle our his grasp. Gently, the king settled Damian back on his feet. 

"Right. Uncle, my father, Batman. Father, this is my uncle." Damian introduced, his tone hurried and a bit hesitant. 

The king, Damian's uncle, smiled at Bruce. "Hello there, Mr. Wayne. I've wanted to meet you for a long time." The king hummed, "My name's Danny, but the Al Ghuls call me Danyal." 

"Uncle!" 

"Hush, hush, Damian. I can give my name to anyone I want. I don't suppose that your father is worthy of it."

Bruce really should be more concerned about the fact that the king knew his name. 

"But what of the others?" 

"Little one, I sent Nyssa and Dusan letters ages ago. But rest assured, dearest Talia is still the first to earn it." Danny—Danyal—the ghost king softly spoke and patted Damian's head. "And... Oh, it's you."

"Your majesty!" Constantine enthusiastically greeted while Danny scowled. 

"Tax evading bastard." Danny huffed, shaking his head before promptly ignoring the tax evading bastard in question. 

"Damian." 

"The dead are rising."

Danny blinked, blinked again, before he groaned and shook his head. 

"Okay, sorry. That seemed to be caused by an error on my side. Some prisoners of my realms started a riot and some of them managed to break out. Some have most likely decided to overshadow their old bodies." Danny sighed, "I'll have this taken care of. Apologies for the inconveniences."

"These... Zombies have been wrecking havoc across my city." Bruce frowned, "They've been harming people."

"Vengeful spirits do that. They're criminals meant to be in prison. It's rare for breakouts to happen, in all honesty." Danny paused, just long enough to run his fingers through Damian's hair. "But if you wish to take charge, by all means. These are corpses being possessed by their own spirits and... Well... They're out of their minds. Not really considered revenants since the possession isn't quite permanent." 

"Alright, Bats. We've gotta make a proper deal here. His Majesty was summoned so we've gotta offer him something—" 

"That's not necessary." Danny immediately waved Constantine away, evident displeasure from the man. "The sigil I gave Damian was just to call me to him. No need for an exchange."

"Seriously?" Constantine blurted out. 

Danny just shrugged, "He's family. And my favorite nephew." 

Damian smirked, absolutely smug. "I am your only nephew, uncle."

"Mm... Jason's also my nephew." Danny chuckled softly, easily stepping out of the circle and removing it from the floor—leaving not a single stain. "Now... Shall we deal with the dead?" 

Bruce Wayne has made many bad decisions in his life, especially when it came to his relationships. Damian's ghost king of an uncle might be one of them.

Masterpost

DPXDC Prompt# 5- War between Warlocks

-A dichotomy I love has always been hard worker vs natural talent, so let's take this running.

Constantine spent the day lying on his couch. A new pack of beer and smokes are beside him while he's watching one of Z's performances while she's off world. A usual partly cloudy in Liverpool.

It was nice....

-Or it would've been nice if he couldn't recall who he saw. Correction, who he thought he saw. Because there was no bloody way that magic-wielding bastard survived. ...

Shut up.

It wasn't real. It couldn't have been real.

But karma was a bitch and it was making itself known.

For once in his life, John's phone was still.

Nobody.

Nobody has reached out to him to exorcise anything for a week and he was slowly losing his shit. Looks like he has to go out and find out for himself. ---

Danny couldn't help but laugh.

That marks his 10th exorcism this week, and he could already see the con man pulling his hair out when he just chose to take a little weight off an old 'friend's' shoulders while he's on his vacation from ghost king business.

He must be pissed.

It couldn't be helped. Danny's natural disposition made magic a breeze. He's one of the most occult things there is, after all. If he can't dodge it all, he might as well embrace it. Who could've guessed it would come with the scruffiest blonde with a fun accent getting on his case? John Constantine. A delight to watch work and in bed. That's all in the past now, anyways. Sometimes, he just needed to take a minute to remind himself that he's human, too. What better way to do than to fuck with the one person he's felt most like that with?

He felt horrible thinking his last moment with John was going to be looking at the desperation and fear written all over his face. No need for that now. The spark of a locator spell flickered off his barrier on the rooftop. He cackled as he heard John's "I BLOODY KNEW IT!" through the streets. The phone in his pocket buzzed again. John really was such a busy man. He ensured the non-teleportation tattoo he made last time hadn't faded before hopping to the next roof and answering. "This is Hex speaking. I've stolen John's phone, but I can assure you I can get the job done ten times easier than he can." Making his way out of a portal on the roof he left, "I can hear you, cheeky bastard!" "That's the point, dipshit!" Danny stuck out his tongue and kept moving. Tsk. Barely 5 minutes to catch up. Looks like he's getting rusty. Oh well, nothing a little refresher and practice can't fix.

Thus began the reunion between a king and a con man.

having fun with formal wear >>>

You, every night.

"Were very sorry sir. The children thought your people were from the government."

A small DP/DC promp

Casper high is on a field trip in Gotham.

Danny is in the team with Tucker, Kwan and Dash as most of the time.

They have a picture hunt around Gotham.

After a while they notice strange people in white following them. White jackets, black ties.

As Amity park kids the of course thought, these were GIW agents they don't know.

Everybody knows Danny is having to much ecto in his system. They sometimes see his eyes change color. No surprise if you think of the Fenton Parents lap safety.

So as the people get closer and one of them grabs Danny's arm. Dash hits him before they can speak.

They got in a big fight.

Penguin gets called cause his Goons are fighting a school class.

Things calm down quick as Oswald came. The Teacher told them to stop.

As he was talking to Mr. Lancer the Teacher said:" The children are very sorry. They thought your Henchpeople were part of the Government."

Penguins Goons are also very sorry:" We thought it was a Wayne kid."

Penguin has also some Questions in his head like: why would high school kids get into a fist fight with the Government?

And why did the Teacher think that was a reasonable explanation?

This is just another shitpost, a copy and paste from what I spammed my friend at like 5pm- ish Jason or Red-Hood who's known for having 'information from the dead/graves' but his boyfriend is Danny 'phantom' Fenton and will just yap to his boyfriend over ghost gossip and not even realize that he's sharing new/unheard of information to Jason over crimes and other things happening around Gotham or in crime alley

People gossip but the dead talk, and Danny is all too happy to have someone to listen to all the ghost drama with him that the man will yap to Jason for hours. (Jason has timed it before, it got to hour 5 before he called it a day)

No one can figure out how why or when Jason started becoming two or three steps ahead of every villain/gang/goon/whatever, calling 'anonymous' tips into the batfam/police/whoever tf, days or even weeks before anything happened.

Jason who somehow ends up scaring the shit out of the bad guys because they 'changed their plans three times already to lose Red-hood' but yet, somehow, he's waiting for them by the time they arrive to where ever they were meeting up to do their illegal business with a coffee in hand and the police already called and arriving in 5 minutes.

Dp x dc prompt

Redhood didn't like people who took advantage of children. Fucking hated them.

So when he heard of a new crime lord employing children in there area, he had to put a bullet between that fucker's eyes. Apperently, the guy ran the original gang out of town and set the kids off on petty crime. Stealing money. Food, clothes, in some cases, even drugs.

Redhood stood outside an abandoned building, gun at the ready. There was no security, no goons. Did this guy know he was coming? Is this a trap? Redhood shook off his worries. No matter. He's just gotta get this bastard before it could get any worse.

He crept through raftors and boxes. He listened for footsteps. Step step step. The footsteps were heavy and dragging, sluggish. According to eye witnesses, the crime lord tended to drag his feet, maybe limp even.

Redhood slid out of hiding, pressed his gun up to the back of the man's head, and-

It was a kid. The kid turned around, so irely calm. His long black air hung down, obscuring his face, but Redhood could clearly see the way his pale sickly skin sank into his bones. How his dull blue eyes seamed to gloss over and stare into his soul. Almost daring him to pull the trigger. Yet, despite the dark of the warehouse, he almost seemed to glow.

"So?" He asked.

"Wha- so what?" Redhood asked. He was shaking. He hasn't put the gun down.

"Are you going to pull the trigger or not? I mean, you've got a clear shot. I just ask you to clean up after. The kids don't need to see that," The teen slowly blinked at him. Redhood slowly lowered the gun. Just a gang of kids run rampant, yeah. That's what this is.

The kid hummed and began to walk off. Redhood couldn't really call it walking or even limping. It looked more like dragging a nearly dead leg. Now that he was close, he could see it. The dragging leg, the dead arm in a sling. The lichtenberg scars crawled up his face, reaching his eye, blinded and half shut. How did this kid run a whole gang out of town?

Red Hood followed him. The kid only gave his a brief glance before shrugging. Redhood followed him to the back of the warehouse, where a group of kids slept. Redhood recognised them, street kids. All either homeless or too scared to go home.

"They helped me," the kid whispered, "I got rid of those people because I hated the way they hurt the people around them, and when I fell sick, those kids stepped up to help. The least I can do is give them a place to stay."

"You fell sick? You weren't always like this?"

"No. I used to be a lot stronger, braver," The kid gave a heavy sigh before slowly lowering himself to the ground. Crossing his legs and resting his head on his hand, "Now I can barely move without aching, I feel like an old man trapped in a teenager's body."

Redhood glanced between him and the sleeping kids. He was helping them, housing them. In return, they were stealing food and medicine for their sick friend, and Rehood almost shot him.

"My name is Danny, by the way," The kid- Danny grumbled.

Redhood sighed and sat down next to him, "Nice to meet you, Danny. I'm Redhood."