Author's note: (sheepishly) I couldn't help myself. I got caught in the Dark Knight madness. (hangs head in mock shame) Curse you Heath Ledger and your amazing acting skillz that implant themselves into my brain! BUT...this story will not be a romance.
Any sebsequent fics are exempt from this statement. XD
Disclaimer: I don't own Dark Knight, The Phantom of the Opera, or V for Vendetta (see if you can catch the reference). Just my OC and my dreams. (pout)
The Chaos Theory
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I didn't have the chance to blink. A metallic taste filled my mouth, and my throat felt like it had been scrubbed with steel wool.
"I always love this musical. So…reflective of the female's need to be the saving grace. The Point of No Return. Mmm. I must say, though. That…uh…Gerald Butler guy just doesn't seem to have the—heh—tenacity for his disfigurement. Too much like moaning over sunburn. Oh, but it is romantic, don't get me wrong. You maternal instincts must have, uh, loved that, though…huh?"
"Can't help those maternal instincts," I muttered hoarsely, still too dazed for my reasoning to kick in and order me to stop talking to him. Or at least come back with something a little cleverer.
He giggled wildly as he crouched and made his face parallel to mine as he pressed my cheek upon the ground with deceiving gentleness. Nothing was broken, but I was sure I had bitten my tongue when he playfully shoved me against the wall. Why…why didn't I follow Jan to that self-defense class that one time?
"Well see what we can do with that, hmmm…won't we, nymph?"
As the madman I now understood and feared stood and hummed along with the music coming from the ancient beat box in the corner, I couldn't help but think, Who woulda thought that a simple online conversation over the philosophy of the chaos theory would lead me to this?
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My body grew cold with nervous energy as I logged onto the discussion forum. I've been anticipating my eventual return to the Bat Man debate all afternoon. Getting carried away about the vices of vigilantes was juvenile, but I didn't care if my opinion wasn't going to change the world. The intelligence of some of the users and the arguments they brought to the table created a three-dimensional world that was almost addictive to me.
Of course, there was always the problem of knowing when to stop. There's been more than a few nights that I found myself so engrossed in those silly discussions that I continued talking with some girl from Japan without realizing the time difference between there and Gotham. Needless to say, I struggled to keep from falling asleep at the desk those particular days.
Tonight I was safe; tomorrow was a Saturday and I was planning on taking the weekend off from partying/socializing and simply lie around the apartment anyway. My Zunes player was hooked to the computer and I was playing my so-called Debate Playlist. "Chumbawumba" by Tubthumber was the first, and its sacrilegious lyrics made me feel rebellious.
I will not deny that I am, in fact, a nerd stuck inside an editor's body.
I checked my other message boards, just to make sure nothing of extreme interest had slipped my notice. There were a couple new posts regarding the new government offices that were being filled, and one or two about Gordon's strategies as commissioner. Assured that I wouldn't be double-tasking tonight, I skimmed to find my new obsession—the Bat Man. It had been a hotspot for the past week, ever since the death of Harvey Dent and Commissioner Gordon's sudden change in relations towards the batty bat.
Some idiot on the second to last page made me grit my teeth in annoyance. He was one of those 'batman is gey lol'. I was tempted, but I decided not to treat him to a patented Maenad137 'troll post'. Pick your fights. Pick your fights, I repeated to myself before I skimmed through the rest of the page and clicked onto the next. I rested my chin on my left hand, reading the few new posts intently.
At the moment, I and a few of the more serious debaters on the forum had been relating tales of other vigilantes in myth and history. NietzscheMan2 made an interesting point on the side against vigilantism a few hours previously regarding thirst for revenge. It had been buzzing before that the Bat Man may have been screwed by the mob or something some point in his life, but no one mentioned it as a con in the guy's personal background. I told him this and, having done some psychological classes in college, expanded on the idea.
After a lengthy reply, I sat back, having satisfied myself with a concise, clever post. Lazily browsing the message boards once again, I saw that a few more newbies had logged on and made their way to the introductions page. Always liking to catch a wisp of a new personality, I scanned trough some of the profiles the new guys had posted. I replied with a few 'welcomes' to some that just said hi and expressed their interest in the forum. I left a longer response to a woman whose profile lined up fairly well with mine. It's nice to see a kindred spirit, even if it is online. But, I have yet to meet with someone who saw enough through my eyes that I felt a deeper understanding.
I returned to my specific topic to check for new posts. None yet, so I looked at the newer ones to see if I could lend a new perspective. There was nothing else of interest, so I began looking through the older posts. It was something I did when I was bored and it was too early to make dinner. Reviving dead topics were never really successful, but maybe I could find something…
I stopped my cursor from scrolling as the title caught my eye. I hadn't noticed it before, but it was only a couple days old.
Anarchy
Hmm. A touchy topic, no doubt. No wonder it only had one post. After the Joker's reign of terror, no one on the forum, even the boldest debaters, seemed to want to touch anything remotely related to that man's psyche. And for good reason. I let out a hiss of fear in remembrance of the ex-commissioner's funeral and my eyes flicked to the window that faced the street. The sniper, from what I heard in the news and from friends connected to the police force, had been practically directly across from my apartment. That day I had gone out to get groceries. I had to wait nearly four hours until I could get into my building because of all the ambulances and police. It still chilled me to think that I could have been sitting here, at my computer, when the shots were fired.
Morbid curiosity creeping into my better instincts, I hesitantly opened the thread.
Dionysus0 posted-
Anarchy: a state of lawlessness and disorder (usually resulting from a failure of government) Princeton definition.
Anyone want to argue this definition?
I had seen Dionysus0 around before, but I hadn't read any of his or her posts. I only noted our parallel screen names. I had to admit it was a well-crafted debate question, if not untouchable. Regardless, it sparked my interest. I had deep opinions about anarchy and its supposed application. With all the fuss in Greece and my familiarity with punk societies in the city underground, I had more than my share of files of information about this topic.
I got up from my chair and stretched, thinking. I could reply, just to see how far it would go. My reputation on the forum wouldn't be ruined just for one little post. I didn't have to bring up the Joker in expressing my opinion.
Leaning over the black, cushioned wheelie chair, I chewed on my upper lip as I stared at the screen, formulating my post in my head. I wanted it simple. I could expand upon it if anyone else was interested. My mind made up, I sat back down to type.
Maenad137 replied-
Anarchy, in my mind, is a state of lawlessness. Disorder too, yes, but not in the way most perceive the word. It implies no law. No order. No government. It is not so much a political philosophy as a personal philosophy. By not being chained by society or government, anarchy demands a personal strength to understand yourself and the people around you. Pure anarchy will not tolerate one person taking advantage of another, but rather a higher level of thinking that leaves a person to decide her or her utter fate for himself or herself with the new myriad of choices they are now given. I don't think it could be implemented until a few mindsets change, though.
I sighed, reading over the post again to make sure I covered all my essential points. Leaving it for now, I returned once again to the Bat Man discussion. NeitzscheMan2 and a few others had rejoined the posting, but my mind kept sliding back to the Anarchy post. I hadn't seen Dionysus0 around for a few days. Maybe he or she forgot about it, or they were busy.
A little after seven o'clock I tore myself from the computer to throw a pot of water on the gas stove and set it to boil. Pasta was my only vice, and I had to suffer all week until I finally had the time to make it instead of rushing with microwave dinners. Sitting on the counter, swinging my legs like an impatient toddler, I watched the TV in the joined living/office room that I had turned down to background sound. Things have been relatively quiet in Gotham since the Joker was locked up in Arkham. If quiet could ever be used to describe this city.
Right now the subtitles were telling of the economic crisis and the slow but steady resurgence of the mob. They didn't say anything about the mob being uncontrolled and the police force becoming corrupted again.
What they did do, however, is reiterate the menace of the Bat Man. Being close friends with one of the cameramen who worked for the station, I noticed one of the secrets he revealed to me. The anchor woman blinked a lot if she knew the information she received was false. And those innocent blue eyes were fluttering like there was a fly buzzing around them as she retold the story of how Bat Man killed Harvey Dent, and that the citizens of Gotham should report any sightings of the winged crusader.
Curiosity rose up again in me, but having a deep mistrust in the media anyway, I sighed and accepted the mystery. I dumped a box of penne in the now bubbling water and jumped off of the counter to walk back to the computer.
My hand froze over the mouse when I clicked to refresh the page. The Anarchy topic had three posts. And the last poster was Dionysus0. My faced flushed with anticipation as I clicked on the topic. I waited breathlessly as the page loaded.
Furiously scrolling down to the new reply, I was surprised that it was shorter than the first one.
Dionysus0 replied-
That's the first interesting theory I've read in this entire forum. Good for you.
Why don't you think anarchy could be implemented, say, right now?
I smiled to myself before replying. So he was impressed. I liked impressing people.
Maenad137 replied-
Because mankind is too blinded by their own selfishness and close-mindedness right now. There is no understanding between people anymore, and no one really cares to try. Anarchy will work when people understand themselves and their peers with an open mind.
I didn't have to wait more than two minutes until a reply came. I eagerly opened it, half-forgetting my other thread.
Dionysus0 replied-
And you think you meet that caliber of understanding?
Maenad137 replied-
Yes, I do. More than most of my peers. It frustrates me to see people unwilling to accept, or even try to eradicate, the differences of others. I know I have a perspective that's better than that.
Another thing I will not deny; I'm kind of cocky.
Dionysus0 replied-
From what I've seen, my nymph-y friend, you get quite passionate and stubborn in your own discussions.
Hypocrisy is unbecoming. Be careful.
I felt sheepish. He was right about the stubbornness. I hesitated before starting my reply.
Maenad137 replied-
Finally, someone who cared to decipher my s/n.
I won't say that I don't get carried away sometimes. I do. But I'm not ashamed of asserting the need for people to stop being sheep-like about stupid ideals that society has ingrained into their heads. They need to let go of some things as unexplained and life is chaotic. They need to understand that chaos is not simply a negative connotation of the Merriam-Webster definition of utter confusion. It is creation and understanding and truth itself. They can't see that, and I get impassioned about it and try to show them my spark of truth in whatever form the conversation takes.
My furious typing made me slip in a near-trance as I mindlessly sent my reply. Regaining my breath again, I read over my post and reddened. I didn't mean to spill my spiritual beliefs. Just my political ones. I do get carried away.
Dionysus0 replied immediately.
Dionysus0 replied-
Time's up. I'd like to discuss this later. Don't worry. I'll be around soon enough.
You interest me, nymph.
Blinking slowly at the reply, I suddenly felt drained, and this surprised me. I've never felt this drained before by a discussion. Agitated usually, infuriated at some things. But drained? It was odd.
Then I heard the hissing and spitting like a viper had found its way into my room.
"Shit!" I exclaimed, jumping up from my chair, sending it spinning wildly. My pasta was boiling over, the water pouring over the side and sizzling on the hot iron. I quickly turned off the gas and used a cloth to lift the pot to the cool counter. I swore again as some of the hot water splashed on my wrist, but I placed the pot down and grabbed the pasta strainer. I put it in the sink, and then dumped the penne into it. As the water poured down the drain, I took a penne and ate it. I sighed. It was salvageable, but it was mushier than I would have liked.
Mixing in some virgin olive oil and can of tomato sauce, I made my dinner and put some in a bowl to carry to the computer. I studied Dionysus's reply again, puzzling. Why didn't he give his opinion? It's not uncommon, but it's usually polite to share your own stance so there's an equal exchange of ideas. Sighing again, I logged out and contented myself in moving to the television. I changed the station to National Geographic and settled in.
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Dionysus didn't reply the rest of the weekend, or Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. I noticed that I often got distracted from my work because my mind was on that short conversation. And, in retrospect, it was quite short for me to be getting all anxious over it. I knew I was being ridiculous, letting my addiction cross over into my workspace. It happened before, but it was still frustrating.
Eventually I did get a reply, but it wasn't what I expected.
My expectations had been failing me a lot lately.
I was reading a new manuscript at my desk early Thursday morning when my email pinged. Slumped over a page with a pen in hand and both my elbows on my desk, I was loath to tear my eyes away from the stack of papers. I had to get through this before the weekend, and I was already behind from all my sneaking peeks at my online forum. I had been caught by Jan doing just that. Stella, she had said. You're lucky I'm not Kruss. Watch yourself. I stuttered some excuse about having a small break.
I glared at my computer. I didn't have time for emails. I told myself I could check it during lunch. I knew I needed to finish. Regardless, I turned from the manuscript and opened the window on my computer. There were three new messages. I steeled myself to skim through them and get back to work.
My mouth dropped open when I saw that one of the senders was a person by the name of Dionysus0 at the domain AA dot com. Pleasantly surprised, I quickly opened the email and read the message.
Message by Dionysus0:
Madame Maenad,
Don't ask how I got your email. It ruins the fun, and you sound like someone who lets mysteries lie.
I think our conversation would be best served this way. I don't think anyone else in our forum will want to join in anyway. It's gotten too interesting.
So. You mentioned chaos. I have a similar fascination with the idea. What do you think of the use of chaos as the catalyst of anarchy?
I began to reply in eager anticipation, but stopped. I was at work. Being in such a place, I actually had work to do. Letting out a huff of annoyance, I erased the beginning of my reply and typed a quick message.
Message by StellaR:
Dionysus,
I'm in purgatory—also known as a job in editing—right now. I get off for lunch at one for about an hour. Will you be online then?
He had a short reply as well.
Message by Dionysus0:
HaHa.
I'll see what I can do.
I probably didn't do a thorough job with the chunk of editing I had been assigned to do, but I was nervously tapping my foot the whole time I circled words and crossed out passages with merciless swipes of a red pen. The digital clock on my desk was being exasperating in its sluggishness to tick past the hours. Eventually I gave up and dig myself into my work.
Then, another ping came from my computer. I looked at the clock. One on the dot. I shoved the manuscripts into their respective folders and swiveled my chair to face my computer screen. Sure enough, the ping had come from Dionysus.
Message by Dionysus0:
Looks like we won't have a problem with communication for the time being. Are you free to continue?
Would it be too forward to say that I'd been waiting for this conversation to restart all week? Yeah, it probably would.
Message by StellaR:
I have to say I have no opinion about your question right now. I think I get a question now.
What do you know of the chaos theory?
Like usual, Dionysus was quick to reply.
Message by Dionysus0:
OH, fine. Ha.
I think it's a theory, nothing more. Something silly to think upon, but really a useless mound of information. Actions mean a hell of a lot more than some fluttering little theory making you sit down and think of the pros and cons. What does it do? Nothing. The application of such theories is a lot more convincing to me than the discussion of them.
Maybe you need to take your little obsession and test it. Maybe sometime soon.
I pursed my lips, slightly affronted.
Message by StellaR:
What obsession?
Message by Dionysus0:
Anarchy. Chaos. Philosophy. Politics. Editing. Whichever you think is most important to you. Hey, it's all relative, isn't it?
Just do something. You're losing your interest value.
Message by StellaR:
Interest value? Thanks.
Message by Dionysus0:
Ooh, look. The news has some news for once. Maybe this is your chance to do something.
Just don't waste it on your ass discussing it on that lovely forum of yours. HaHa. I'll be talking to you real soon…regardless of what you chose.
As I was finishing Dionysus's cryptic message, a muffled roar of voices met my ears. Brows furrowed in confusion, I stood and walked out of my office. The noise was coming from the lounge. I briskly walked towards it, the voices growing louder and more alarmed by the second.
"What the hell is going on?" I asked as I opened the lounge door. My entire floor was crowded within it, including Mr. Kruss. All of them had a frantic expression on their faces, and all of their eyes were glued to the flat screen mounted on the wall. Guessing this was the source of the uproar, I turned my attention to it. My breath caught in shock as I read the title under a wide-eyed anchor.
I couldn't hear him for all the voices, but I could certainly read the breaking news.
The Joker had escaped Arkham Asylum.
Trying to swallow, I leaned heavily on the doorsill, trying to calm the instinctive, paralyzing fear that had been embedded upon me by the entirety of Gotham in their collective terror of the scarred man with the war paint. It helped a little to know that it was an irrational fear unless the Joker was in the same building.
Knock on wood.
"Mr. Kruss, I need to get my kids out of school. You can take it out of my paycheck, but I need to go," one of my co-workers shouted to my boss over the hubbub. Mr. Kruss nodded weakly. This caused a wave of excuses for each of the editors to leave. Shaken by the increased volume, Mr. Kruss bellowed for everyone to calm down.
"Since it looks like most of you are willing to risk your paycheck over a bit of news, I guess I can't stop of you. But!" He raised his hands to keep the mob of people from rushing out. "But it will come out of your paycheck, and I expect you all to be here tomorrow, or your jobs will be on the line." He stepped aside then, and I quickly jumped out of the way as a mass of people rushed for the door.
As soon as they were gone, with only Mr. Kruss left staring at the television, I hesitantly went to my office. Trying to keep my calm amidst my fellow editors frantically trying to leave their office to check on their friends and loved ones, I slowly sat back down at my desk. I had all my friends on my cell, and my family lived far from Gotham. I convinced my brain to think I didn't have to worry about anyone but myself right now as Gotham was probably in chaos. Negative chaos.
Probably what the Joker wants. Stir them like throwing a wolf-scented rag among sheep. I'm not a sheep.
Setting my jaw, I returned to my work. A few others had the courage to make the same choice. I noticed that none of those who stayed had children or family in the Gotham area. I made a mental note not to judge them too harshly for leaving early.
No more emails came as the day drew a close. My mind was mostly preoccupied with the unsettling news, but I couldn't help but think that this Dionysus guy must either live outside of Gotham, or has a really sick sense of humor by casually tossing the news in her face.
It was five when I began to pack up my manuscripts into my bag, double-checking to make sure my can of mace and pocketknife was still in my purse. I put both in my jacket pockets, for easier reach. I was lucky enough to choose the one day that the Joker escaped to have no choice but to take the subway back home. I usually had Jan take me, but she had her boyfriend and her mother to touch base with, so she left early like the bulk of the building.
I was given some warnings when I answered questions of how I was getting home, but I brushed them off and took the elevator to go out into the street. Few people were out; unusual for the business district of Gotham. Those who were out had their shoulders hunched and eyes downcast. Fear was thick in the air. I shoved my hands deep in my jacket pockets, both hands grasping my weapons as I made my way quickly to the subway.
Hardly anyone was there either, which didn't surprise me. I paid my fare and waited on a bench for the next train. The couple of people who were there were no different from those aboveground in their stances, except for their eyes. Eyes were watchful, tense, waiting to spot anything out of the ordinary. I couldn't help but feel cold with their dread.
Finally the nearly empty train arrived. We scuttled quickly inside as the doors slide open, and then closed behind us. A woman about my age jumped in her seat when the train lurched forward. I let out a breath. Whatever happens doesn't matter. I meditated upon that fact, and felt the fear sticking from me, due to the fact that the air was thick with it, slide away.
My eyes, which I didn't realized were closed, opened when I felt the train come to its third stop. I stepped out, my hands still gripping the knife and mace. I hadn't seen anyone else disembark, and no one was waiting on the benches. The train left with a squeak of sliding doors and a rush of metal. I swallowed, forcing my nervousness down to keep it from detracting me. Gotham was dangerous enough without the Joker. I needed to keep from running from shadows.
"Maenad. Female follower of Dionysus, often portrayed as inspired by him into a state of ecstatic frenzy. Though, heh, it seems that I've been following you."
Little did I know that it was shadows I was supposed to be running from. I slowly turned around to face the speaker. I was wrong. Someone had gotten off with me. His unmistakable laugh stretched the scars that I could now see from under his purple baseball cap as he pushed away from the walls where the eerie green of the subway lights didn't reach. His dress was hardly distinctive from what she had seen on the news; just slacks and a dark button-up shirt under a blazer whose sleeves were rolled up to his elbows.
"Not so, uh, confident now, are we, nymphy?" he continued giggling darkly, a fascinatingly morbid thing.
"Dionysus," I breathed, my body, face, emotions, thoughts all frozen by the presense before me. I knew I should be feeling curiosity, shock, confusion, something that would make sense to my carefully constructed structure of how I was supposed to deal with situations. But I felt none of these. I felt like a woman facing death. And I didn't know what that was supposed to mean about me.
"You know…" he drawled, grabbing my arm, having an expression of mocking anger on his face. "You didn't email me back. We were having a good conversation." Then he threw his head back in short, wild bark of glee. My instinctive acversion of physical touch made me tug firmly from his grasp. My voice wasn't working yet, but part of me was telling me that no one would listen to my scream. This was Gotham.
And Gotham's greatest criminal cocked his head to the side and gave me a look that was more for an old woman scolding little children than for a known mass murderer looking at...well, me.
"Does this smell like chloroform to you?" he asked in a low voice before he shoved me against the cement walls of the subway and covered my mouth and nose with a wet cloth. My body instinctively made me take a shocked breath, and my short-lived struggle came to an abrupt end as the pain from my head dulled and I started slipping into unconsciousness.
Two things registered in my mind before I went completely out. One, I wondered at the fact that I had seen the Joker without his makeup. Two, he said something strange in my ear.
"Let's see how much chaos knows about you."
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