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Oc x ?

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Ch. 1; Interrogation

TWO WEEKS INTO THE FUTURE

Gotham City Bank

December 4, 10:08am EST

"Joker…" Brown eyes narrowed as Batman looked over the scene before him. Useless money and burnt debris lay everywhere while several bodies were hoisted into body bags and rolled away on stretchers. Robin said nothing…he was much too angry to even open his mouth in agreement of whom to accuse.

They currently rested atop a taller building; looking down over the once peaceful bank that had been set fire to and then blown up in less than a few minutes. Black ash covered everything, and almost half of the building had fallen apart. Metal beams looked melted, and bricks were demolished to nearly nothing as firemen doused the crumbling structure with another wave of water in caution. Seventeen people dead…not one survivor. How sick…how deviously cruel.

"I…thought Joker was placed back into Arkham Asylum." Robin slowly pieced the words together, watching his tone and trying to sound as clam as possible in an attempt to mask the scorching shock that stung his throat. Being frantic and overdramatic was a complete waste of time…caring could also be an intrusion, so he always tried his best to refrain from such emotional outbursts when around his mentor. The boy's wider and much more innocent looking eyes glanced through the mask that covered his features; peering over to the dark knight who could only glare with controlled anger at the many burnt up remains being wheeled out of the destroyed bank.

"He was." The look of intimidation on the other's features was almost overwhelming…yet Robin took it without a common or natural reaction, and instead one of understanding. Even he, being at the young age of fourteen, knew what it was like to be fooled or even slapped across the face. That was exactly what joker was doing…slapping Batman in the face. Batman throws him in jail…he easily escapes, and to prove that very escape…the sick bastard blows up, robs, and murders countless people within such a populated building. He taunted the heroes…laughing his way into destruction and chaotic disaster as he did so. Even then…even when people knew how sick and demented he truly was…people still offered themselves as bait, guards, goons, and even a side-kick in Harley Quinn's case.

TWO WEEKS EARLIER

Arkham Asylum

November 27, 11:20am EST

"Same cell, Jokey." An overweight man, clad in a tan colored uniform, shoved the villain into the cell roughly while a shorter and much lankier one, with a dark colored apron and goggles, stood beside him in silence. The cop and the pitiful med-giver were locking him away? For the fourteenth time? The Joker could merely scoff with the usual wide-spread grin at their naïve idiocy. How he wished to shatter a simple bone in each body, make them realize how truly worthless and feeble they really were as they bled out on the floor! One could always dream…or make it happen.

The door slammed shut.

How Rude.

Yet, even as each easily-given opportunity shone through there was something even more woeful waiting just after. So he could only sit in the empty cell of rock and dust; unlatching the sleeves of that dreadfully plain coat as if habit from past experience. He leaned against the newly re-built back wall; remembering how his goons had blown it up last time in his escape, while also listening to the light rainfall against the steel-barred slit of a window made from bullet-proof glass. Beyond such unattractive pitter-patter was a noise…a near-silent one...yet one he could recognize as scraping. A grin stretched over his lips; illuminating the leftover makeup that barely hid the pale tan of his skin.

A new inmate had been housed beside him in his absence. He could hear him…probably scratching at the walls or rolling around in the floor like the psychotic idiot he truly was.

There was a sudden pause of the Joker's thoughts…they had made these walls soundproof at one point…so how on earth could he hear his neighbor? The thought of being even more insane and psycho than he already was made his lips quirk in curiosity, yet for the moment he would doubt such…but only because the noises sounded so real. The scraping would halt for a few moments…as if the lunatic on the other side of the wall had stopped whatever action he had been doing, and then they would continue again for a different span of time. The Joker remained leaned against the far wall…still doubtful of the noises being real and maybe just some sick game his mind was challenging him to. It often did that…as if his brain and conscience had minds of their own.

The noise stopped…and started again.

He pushed himself off the wall; taking note of how his jaw still slightly stung from that nice punch the Bat had sent straight into face. Again, like most of those in law, rude. Lanky legs quickly carried the man across the room and bent as he crouched down; ceasing at a small gap, maybe an inch wide, which rested between the two corner bricks of the re-built walls his and Harley's men had blown down. He was now curious over those persistent sounds…what single-minded dipshit of a man would be so bored as to disrupt-…no…not a man. There stood a girl…much too young to even be considered psychotic. She looked to be fifteen at the most; holding a piece of chalk and drawing over the orang-ish/brown rocks of the walls as what he saw was a gold-ish glow illuminated her form slightly.

His smile grew further if even possible.

"What did some brat like you do to end up in the loony-bin?" The derisive comment was followed by numerous chuckles as he taunted her.

Her head spun; throwing a thick braid of burgundy to the side as she looked over to whoever had been speaking from past the wall. A large cloud of gold dust shimmered off her form just before she dropped the chalk on the floor, finding no other place to put it, and walked over. Her hazel eyes focused onto the small crack from which the noise originated, revealing the man who stood on the other side. His face was mostly painted, some of it being smudged off, and his grin was beyond any definition of wide or sadistic. She knew him like the rest of the world did…as The Joker…and nothing more. Oh! He had asked her a question…and she still had yet to answer as her hazel eyes met his dark green ones, one set of irises tainted by impure and blood-thirsty desires while the others were of pure innocence and full of precious emotion. The same type of innocence and emotion that he, being the most disturbed man alive, enjoyed shattering.

"I murdered my parents." Her semi-false reply was straight forward…and she did not interrogate him or ask and drool over him as some residents of this fowl and uncultivated asylum would do. She had manners; that pleased him. Yet, even within the simple beginning of their conversation through the small crack of the wall he could see her stiffness…and he could sense her fear. She inwardly winced as his voice rose in joyous delight of the topic.

"Good for you! Let me guess…they beat you? Sold you? How many times a week did you eat?" Jayla, as she had been named, took high notice of the cruel humor etched behind every word; making his tone sound as if muffled laughs of mockery that humiliatingly slapped her very being in the face. Still, she would speak nothing of it…she would not insult the criminal keeper of Gotham, and an honored member of the 'Injustice League'.

"They were good to me." Her voice was cautious…almost afraid to share any information with her new 'cellmate'. Hazel eyes watched through the crack as that sickened gleam around his constantly contracted pupils almost glowed from the angle of the light, and the one visible part of his lower face exposed his continuous smile as he smirked and spoke to her like a mere baby.

"Ah, so you're just a whack-job…like me!" Her eyes still stared into his; feeling the extreme angst being forced into her body as the protected and safe feeling was sucked out by the mere sight of his intense glare. It was murderous…scary…daunting and uncivilized…and yet…she felt a connection. A connection that he had sent to her through mere words of no significant importance…a connection that told her someone else felt the same way she did: insane, angry, and somewhat hateful.

"What's wrong, girl? Not a big fan of clowns?" He exposed his teeth in the largest of grins as he responded to her long string of silence…and Jayla could only come to believe that there was no limit to how large his smile could become. The better the joke, the richer the laugh…and the sicker the smile that followed.

"…Is someone coming for you?" Her voice was slightly raised and a bit more confident, yet her shoulders remained tense and rigid, and her teeth dug into her bottom lip anxiously. She was more obvious than Penguin…and that growth-stunted, big mouthed, bird of a man was beyond obvious.

"If someone were coming you'd be dead and I'd be free." He replied with a look of what she would say was irritation and a low growl as he leaned away from his view through the crack.

"I can get you out…" His eyes shot quickly to the side; glaring at her once more through the two inch wide crack in the bricks. There was a moment…one of absolute silence as the usual smile he never broke began to fade into a frown, and the crack they both looked through seemed to expand; exposing the other even further that what had originally been seen. Was she joking? This little girl was kidding…right?

A head-splitting noise echoed through her cell, and she bolted up from her position beside the crack in the wall; fixing her straight jacket to look unwrinkled rather than attempting to re-clip the sleeves as most would attempt. There was no point for her though…she got away with a lot of shit, and all because she was the youngest in Arkham. The door slowly scratched the floor as it opened; gaining her full attention as well as Joker's. A guard, being clad in navy blue, stood at her cell door with the most depressing expression over his features. It humored Joker…only slightly.

"Out, Trick…and no fairy dust this time." She nodded and obliged...wincing at the reference to her powers while watching the rather fit guard she had seen so many times, hold open the heavy-set door and dangle the specially made hand cuffs and chains he would save just for her.

How 'kind' of him…

Her bare feet tapped against the concrete floor as she exited the room; outstretching her hands to expose her wrists to the man in uniform as he clasped the 'dust-proof' cuffs around her limbs. It was impossible for him to be cruel...she was just a little girl...living in hell...and she knew that so well. It was an advantage in this place...and for some odd reason she felt it always would be. Poison Ivy had her own advantages...being locked up next to Clayface in glass cells, that surprisingly neither could break, was one way people would see and look over her...she wasn't an ugly woman, after all.

Jay could feel Joker's eyes glaring at her through the small slot in his door; watching her like a hawk on prey it couldn't get to. She could hear and sense the firm smile spread on his face as the guard ignored him...and yet the eerie feeling soon dissipated as they ventured further down the hall to what she knew was Dr. Strange's office. It was time for her weekly psych evaluation...which she found useless since every week she failed it, and was claimed a nut-job.

They passed several cells of solitary confinement…one of which she knew too well.

"Jayla, come here." Burgundy hair twisted once again with the swift movement of her head as her name was called out. She paused; looking back towards the cell in which Dr. Crane resided. He had no windows, just a metal door with a food slot...and honestly she couldn't blame the asylum staff for taking such precautions with a man so obsessed with fear.

"Scarecrow..." She muttered a greeting as the pale skinned man smiled smugly from within his fully enclosed room. She couldn't refer to him as Crane...Crane was dead...demolished in his own studies of human fear...and in the process he somehow became fear itself. This, however, was the first confrontation he had emitted from his vile mouth to her ears in all her time at Arkham.

"Do me a favor? Unlatch the door, my dear." His voice was soothing and fatherly...yet not commanding in any way possible. It seemed almost scary...and what shook her most was the simple fact that he knew she was there...even when he had no way of peeking out to the hall.

"Why? So you can destroy the already distraught and defenseless minds of the general public?" Her tone was almost hushed, and her lips always parted as some form of obvious anxiety slammed itself against the base of her skull. She ceased her movements and approached the heavy metal door further; causing the chains of her handcuffs to rattle as the guard escorting her tugged at what most would call a 'leash'. Jay threw a menacing glare at the man, and he ceased the tugging, and for an odd reason paused to listen to the current conversation. He became intrigued...and slightly entertained with the two's endless banter.

"And what do you believe that lunatic Joker will do?" Again he sounded smug…but…how did he know of her offer to help Joker? Jay shrugged it off…these halls could possible echo…she guessed.

"Joker's insane...you're just evil. There's a difference." She backed up a few steps; becoming defensive of her personal beliefs. She was right, of course...he was purely evil...cruel and demented. Yet...altogether completely sane.

"A fine line, my dear...a fine line." She could hear the smirk on his lips, and continued walking behind the guard of the asylum as he continued tugging at the confining chains. He suddenly grew sick of their ridiculous commotion.

"Let's go, Trick." She silently agreed and moved; her gaze still following Crane's cell door as she left it behind. He was laughing...she could hear him.

"He killed my parents..." The guard ignored her mindless mumbles...Jayla Trick was just another lunatic locked behind doors...nothing else.

"No, dearest, YOU killed your parents." The tall and morbidly hideous man gave a mixed smile of wicked humor and calm understanding as the shine off his obscurely round glasses and bald head nearly blinded her.

"Dr. Strange, good...morning I would think."

"Have you been so confined that you can't even decipher noon from morn?"

"No...my cell doesn't have a goddamn window...so I wouldn't realize the time of day."

"Excuses, Ms. Trick? Please try and avoid degrading yourself further." He touched the tips of his fingers from each opposing hand together in false contemplation; the smirk of mirth never falling from his lips.

"It's hard to submit to such a request in this hell hole. Maybe decent food and less meds would make it a bit better...put in a good word for me?" She morbidly smiled; seeming like the most devious prisoner within the asylum for a mere moment.

"There is no 'good word' here." His thickly accented voice dulled slightly as he tilted his head down to look past his glasses. A hand came up; attempting to sweep away the gold colored dust that formed around her and obscured his vision only slightly. The scowl of annoyance on his face was priceless…and Jay almost laughed.

"I figured."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Failed again." Strange slammed his notepad shut with a humored sigh and a stroke of his beard. His other hand waved in what appeared to be dismissal, but merely called over the guard, whom she had learned to be 'James', to escort her out of his office.

"I guess." She replied as a hand clasped over her shoulder and hoisted her up without much force. That damn guard was beginning to irk her…mainly because of his useless and stupid sympathy, but also because he was an ignorant, low-life of a man who more than likely never went to college. Well…who was she to talk? She only began freshman year in high school.

"Let's go, Trick…meds will be waiting for you in your cell."

"..." She really had never bothered to learn this guard's name…and if she actually once had, then she hadn't bothered to remember. There was no point…even after a good year or more within Arkham she had yet to pay any attention to anything at all. Her limbs grew cold and stiff as they passed Crane's door again, and an obvious attempt at hiding such fear she truly drowned in was a simple mask.

THIS…IS MY STORY. NOT A F****** REQUEST! IT'S MINE! BWHAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAH!…anyway…hope you enjoyed the first chapter. ^^ Should there be any pairing at all? Hmmm…maybe…don't know yet…will you all vote on that?

Well thanks for reading…Constructive Criticism is appreciated…flames are not liked but are still acceptable. Thanks again!