[ 'red robin' isn't something he recognizes, especially not through the haze enveloping his brain right now. jason had more personal discipline than most of other victims, which is why he's still wearing clothes, but his eyes are just as gold and inhuman and there are faint hints of gold tendrils creeping along his neck and at his temples. the pollen makes him want to fight or fuck. he should want to rip everyone in his path to pieces, but tim's scent-- or just the scent of the costume, perhaps-- is familiar enough to register as something he covets, instead. something he wants to drag back into his territory and curl around and keep safe, and maybe worry with his teeth a little bit.

he makes a low noise in his throat that might be an acknowledgment but doesn't move away, rubbing up against tim slowly like he's only just discovering that he can.

coherency is something he has to think about. he doesn't even know tim's name, since this tim looks nothing like the one from his world, he's only recognizing the red costume as robin. ]

I'll protect you, [ he murmurs, a tone that's probably meant to be placating but doesn't quite disguise the undercurrent of greed. tim's breathing mask is being inspected under the cover of nuzzling along his neck, looking for the seam of the cowl, and he doesn't give any warning before his other hand comes up to pull at the mask. ]

Take this off.