Chapter One.
"... See, the city's always been like that... Those, uh, things? People? Yeah, they've always been like that. Fuck your innocence, these people are rotten... All of them..." His eyes were fixed, on her. His hands would constantly gesture, almost...nervously, to enhance his body language....
"...See, these... believers in the human spirit... These... Humanists, these...." He spoke with venom, his voice going much lower than it did by usual means...
"...They believe evildoers are the ones who steal, who, uh... Sell drugs--all that... They think it's their fault.... What they don't recognize, is...well, those people.... Uh, they are just like them. In every way. Different circumstances. But, they-oh, they love to judge. And say that the others should die. That they should, uh, go to prison. Funny, hm? They're, uh... Blind." The Joker stood, walking over to the window, and sighing....
"...And I....want to do something about that...."
Blue eyes peered across the room, observing him... She held a different gaze than the rest who had either sought him, or even followed him... They had all had crazes upon their faces- all had lost their minds, slowly, or drugged themselves to a loss... But this woman's expression was different. It was respectful. There was a twinge of madness hidden behind her eyes; but the prevailing factor was that of respect, and interest. An interest more than in just the killings, but an interest in what he was saying... And interest and respect for the ideas which he had proposed. Her mouth twitched, as she planned the words she wished to say, carefully- as the gag she had been subjected to earlier in the evening had finally been removed.
"Rotten, you call them..." She paused upon the word. "... To rot though, one would have to assume that at one point it would have been good... That the thoughts they had originally, sir, were actually pure... If I have noticed anything of Gotham, sir, anything at all, I have noticed that not even the children are good enough to turn into something rotten." She closed her eyes for a moment, before gazing back at him in an utter coolness... A feeling of relaxation in his presence.
"Though sir, I will agree with you... Their treating the ones of lower birth as terribly as they do, as much as their brains read the same; that so much should be stopped." She fell silent... Most of the others, who had ever looked for him, would just nod, and agree instantly... None would ever actually comment- even partially disagree, on his speech....
He did a sharp turn, and he walked over to her, leaning his face in close--precariously close-- to her face.... She could see, even under the war facepaint, she could see his scars. They were grotesque, yet somehow entrancing... A clue, as to what he was, his past... And, she, right now, was the person who'd gotten closest to knowing what it was. He breathed, deeply, and patted her head with a hand, like she were a pup--yet, the smile he gave her--to some might have been terrifying--but, in this instance, it was almost affectionate.
"...See, now that's what I like to hear. You, uh, raise a point, you know. But, what better word than rotten, hm? Answer me that... " he gestured towards the window, where a pale, reddish hue tinted the sky eternally... "...What can we call the remaining swill of, uh, human...civilization. Hm?"
Her lips turned up into a thin smirk. "... Really..." She paused, and gazed out the window...
"... Really, I would just call them human..." She fell silent, before continuing. "But a word of description for them would be... Inutile.." She leaned back against the wall, though still letting her gaze drift back to him. The scars- she had heard rumors they were just added in to the paint- latex, with a bit of powder thrown on... But she had seen them for herself... And she thought them, in a strange way, beautiful... Of course, she would speak none of that unless directly asked. She ignored being bound, though... She had quite expected this precaution from one such as him- a man with such enemies, would of course have to prune his candidates.
"This world in which we choose- yes, sir, I say we /choose/, for if we so desired we could leave it quite quickly, is the worse for wear... It is my belief; as to whether it is yours, or not as well, i am not sure, but it is mine, that this world needs to be... Edited. Edited and picked and prodded... For some people can be rewritten, if you do it right... It takes a bit of effort, yes... But you could make a world quite a bit more interesting, and fitting, if the mood served just the right person at the right time."
"Now, what you're hoping for is a sudden shift in the mechanics of the human spirit. We can't do that. I can't do that." He laughed, and walked around her.
"...The only thing that can make a person change--and I mean.../really/....change.." He licked the corder of his mouth, and breathed out, rather noisily, before continuing...
"...Is through fear. You, uh, grab 'em, and you shake 'em..." He moved his hands in the air as if he were gripping someone before him, and shaking them violently....
"...Until they realize.... They're falling in shit, and slipping on it again when they, uh, get back up." He gave a cackle, at this, a most bone chilling one....
"...And I can get them fear. I can, uh.... Shake their buildings. Their little glass houses....And, when they're desperate, they'll uh...see. Themselves. For what they are."
She smiled softly. "... Fear, though, has its way of worming its way out just as quickly as it wormed in... Fear truly works for only a short time on one person... They begin to expect it, and it loses its vigor... Slowly, over time, they wean from their terror and instead travel either into the skulls and darken their emotions to the outside or..." She paused.
"... They effectively lost 'it' as the saying goes... As much as this might catch your fancy, I'd rather like to have three, or four people, what still have their mind... There are quite a few things I doubt that no amount of henchmen would ever be able to do- as much as I appreciate these brawny boys of yours, I doubt many of them would have the ability to install a toilet main... and that, sir, is a comfort I'd quite com like to have a few normies left about for..." She shuddered.
"... Not everyone needs to change... Not everyone needs to be scared. A few need to be left unhindered- for their jobs make our lives easier... Because, I'm assuming, you quite like to use the toilet as well?..."
He cackled, again, and sat down on the floor before her, cross-legged. "...Yes, I do." He cackled, again, and held his chest.
"...My, my... You certainly do throw people for a loop. Specially me. See, what I like about you, uh...Miss... Quinzell--lovely name, by the way-- Is that you.... You're not like, uh... them." He pointed out the window, again.
"... No, no. You.... You're not afraid of death. You know that there are things that...Uh, are a /lot/ worse. Things that can walk in broad daylight... But me? No, you're not afraid of me. You're the only person who's not afraid. Of me." He got up, walked behind her, undid the bindings on her arms, and nodded out to a door in the far side of the room. "...flush it twice."
He cackled, again, and sat down on the floor before her, cross-legged. "...Yes, I do." He cackled, again, and held his chest. "...My, my... You certainly do throw people for a loop. Specially me. See, what I like about you, uh...Miss... Quinzell--lovely name, by the way-- Is that you.... You're not like, uh... them." He pointed out the window, again.
"... No, no. You.... You're not afraid of death. You know that there are things that...Uh, are a /lot/ worse. Things that can walk in broad daylight... But me? No, you're not afraid of me. You're the only person who's not afraid. Of me." He got up, walked behind her, undid the bindings on her arms, and nodded out to a door in the far side of the room. "...flush it twice."
Her lips turned into a small smile, and she giggled lightly- but stopped herself. She stretched her arms, and turned her lips into a light smirk. "I wouldn't say I'm the only one not afraid... I'm not that special..." She paused and her eyes drifted.
"I wouldn't say the batboy was terrified of you... If I though really, I'd say that the batboy was terrified of... Bats." She Thought for a moment, and swayed on the spot.
"... Of course, I've never had the ability to say yes, or no on the issue, as I've never gotten to meet him... But, I doubt I'd enjoy the thing, aas to me... Any man who runs around in an advanced spandex suit is a man I'd quite like to avoid, really... I mean, his manly parts look a might bit on the small side in those clothes. Perhaps he's just out to prove his part against the world to make due..."
The joker shrugged, as he walked to the window. "...I think he's a little bit fascinating. Annoying, yes. He's got this...code. And we all know that codes... Don't really hold when things get...Tight. He's going to have to kill, eventually. Someone. Someone who, uh... he doesn't wanna kill. And, If he doesn't do it soon, I'll make sure he does.' He licked his mouth.
"....See, there's a breaking point for anyone. And, the reason everyone looks up to, uh, flappy black wings, is because they think he's made of something more than the rest of us. Yeah. It's humorous. Something to laugh at. I mean, why, why is he, uh, better, than you or me? Hm? Because he can perform like a gymnast? Or, uh, because he hits those darn bad guys on the head? No, anyone else can do that... He just went through the extra trouble. And he'll say he does it because Gotham needs a hero. Right...Well, you know what /I/ say?" He walked to the window, and chuckled.
"...Gotham needs a villain. And, like, a /real/ one. One that can show how batboy has his limits..."
She stood next to him and stared out at Gotham... "I think it's actually a beautiful city... Not the people, but the city itself..." She pressed her fingers against the glass, and peered out...
"... Some of it is neat..." Her expression darkened, suddenly, and she sneered. "... The batboy runs around in a latex suit and expects us to take him seriously... He pretends to be a hardass, but..." She paused suddenly, and fell silent... She had seen him once, lamenting in a church yard... Crying over some tomb stone... But she doubted that the man to her right needed to know that...
"So, what do you want me to do?" She looked over at him... "... I need a job, don't I?..."
The joker raised an eyebrow. "...You, a perfectly trained Shrink, work for me? Oooh, hoho... See, I'm not one much for hire... You have, uh, all these /contracts/...And, money. Well, I guess money would not be of the issue..." he walked over to her, and leaned in to her shoulder, looking at her profile...
"...And besides...A bright young woman such as yourself should not be running around with a man of my... Situation." He chuckled.
"You'd get in /all/ sorts of trouble! And, uh, not just with the police, no.. no. You should, uh, forget about me, while you can." He tugged at his purple striped jacket, and ran a hand through his hair. He stared at her for a few seconds, and coughed.
"...Unless, of course.... You want to help me, uh, change Gotham. My way."
She wrapped her arms across her chest, and stared out... "... Sir, I doubt I would have spent the time to actually search out where you are, if it were to simply drop everything and turn around once I've actually found you... It's true, I could get into a tad bit of trouble- but what is the interest in a life without a little bit of... Fun...?" She giggled softly, and stared at the window...
"... I would never forgive myself for simply leaving- Unless of course, you truly have no use for me and wish me to." She glanced at the window, her eyes surveying the skyline...
"If that be the case, then I will leave... But your ideas interest me- hell, you do as well..."
The Joker stared at her for a second, and cackled, loudly. "...Dear, if you had, uh, no use to me, you wouldn't be alive right now. Yeah." He wasn't one much for women, those untrustable seas of Estrogen that fucked up so many things.... Well, it's not like men are to be trusted, either... But, if he got too close to her, it would be a train wreck, he knew it, he knew it... He held out a hand, and his smile widened--the scars on his cheeks contorted even more powerfully, now....
"...So, given the fact you're, uh, alive, I should say.... Let's get in trouble...." A cackle resounded through the room, awaiting her handshake.
She smiled, and gingerly placed her hand in his, and shook. "... I agree- being alive and all.. It actually does have it's perks." She smiled, and returned her gaze out of the window...
"... Gotham is finally going to get the wakeup call she needs..." She ran a finger down the window, staring out longingly...
"... Anyways." Harleen broke herself away, and turned to him.
"... As stated before, I'm a psychiatrist... I'm able to get into any asylums I need to, and pull out any subject I wish for study- no matter who it is; and take them where I wish. I have a home, of course... It's on the outskirts." She looked up at him calmly.
"So, uh, here's the deal, gorgeous.... We are going to have to come up with a way that we stay under the radar for as long as we can. I don't, uh, know if you've noticed, but The Batman..." He paused, straightening his tie before continuing...
"...He, uh Seems to be...Everywhere. even when he, uh, shouldn't be. Which means he's a man of good connections. I would kill him.... But, but no... It's not death what I want for him..." He said, lowly, licking his lower lip.... He didn't seem to have that much interest in Quinzell--he still felt alienated to her, she...she still was normal. Or, looked normal. Whenever he looked into her eyes, or she to his, he would not see...'it'. The same stare he saw whenever he looked in the mirror. Poor girl had no hate! No, all she had were twisted Ideas, a warped mind, and he knew she saw him as an instrument for her to achieve her ideas....'Change Gotham...' She said... Well, he didn't really like the idea of having someone to tag along as he did so.... But who knows?
"...And Iii...need...A plan...."
Harleen leaned her arms against the ledge of the window, and stared out. "... Have you ever considered that because of all of these gadgets, all of these things that the batman can get means that he most obviously has quiet a bit of money and influence?" She lazily rested her chin on her palm, and stared.
"... Did it never make you think that someone has to make these things for him?..." She stood up straight, and looked over her shoulder.
".. Why not go after the people that make the stuff?... Look through records. The gadgets he use are likely created by the same companies, or related ones at the very least..." Suddenly, she noticed she shouldn't have said this... Where would be the fun in taking the logical way out... A sigh escaped her lips, as she turned away. "Never mind..."
He looked at her, and he smirked, leaning back on his seat. The night, it was trademark Gotham. Dark, as per usual, but there was a bit of fog rolling in. The lights to where they were were off, but a reddish, sickly light rolled in from the multiple windows. His outline was visible, but his voice was the only thing clear in the room...
"...Yes, never mind. Even if I knew the companies, and shut them down, blew them up...What, uh, what use would it be? Hm?" He breathed, deeply, noisily....
"...Even...if..... We managed to cut him short of his gadget supply, it doesn't guarantee us success!" he cackled...
"...No! No, no, no no no...It wouldn't be fair game. No... I have my own little schemes, so, he should, as well.... We just need to study him...Sketch down...every...single..." He moved his hand across the table, as if he were holding a pencil, tracing something, the shadow of his hand mildly cast against the table...
"...Habit..."