Arkham Asylum
Present Day
A mysterious mad woman sits in her cell on a tiny, wooden, four-legged stool, planted to the slimy, etched up concrete ground. Her straitjacket was lying, dishevelled and crumpled off to the side, leaning against one of three cemented walls. It had been temporarily removed so she could get a chance to move freely for even a moment or two; after a few intense moments of laughter, and a bit of enjoyment spent in it, she had reluctantly shrugged it off after the belts being unfastened from around her torso by a Patron in Arkham. Something about being trapped physically like that made plotting a little more exciting, broadening her imagination a little and increasing that literal taste of mad creativity, which could scare an average citizen.
However, when you're cooped up in a place like this, for a first, there really does come a time on a level of being on the brink of pure insanity of which you really need to grasp the surreal fact of it – that you're mad, everyone thinks you are, and your clinical diagnosis says you are, and you're just sitting in a cell in the city's local insane asylum to support the statistics.
Despite what they said, what she had read and what others believed, she couldn't place confidence in that, not one single word of it. Sure, she may have been there, but she could be getting there too. In fact, with in depth thought, she had came up with a simple, yet complex theory, that she was some kind of super 'insane' sanity that the brains of any regular human brain had never had thought of, or even discovered, or had belief in to have even existed in their life span – this woman was only humorous the first second, psychotic serial killer the next; the cause of the deaths and murders of hundreds of innocent people, and probably, actually, thousands; all this had meant something stunningly beautiful to her, something any other person simply couldn't comprehend or grasp the beauty or art of.
Who she really is? Well, that was the eternal question of many.
She's staring alongside the barred cell window, leading out into the world. The world is the asylum, she thought to herself, everyone else is mad – Who are they to tell me who I am?
She's bouncing a little black bouncey ball against the back wall; it hits the slab of concrete again, again, and again, in that same deathly slow rhythm, echoing around as it slaps against that wall, over and over. She's smirking as she does this, almost like she's going to break out into her infamous, hysteric cackle of laughter. That was always the expression implanted on her ashen face if she wasn't just ordinarily smiling or down right serious and even angry, or even all of those at certain times.
Batman, Gotham City's saviour and outlaw, circles her cell. He's leisurely watching her – trapped – in her imprisonment, keeping a secure distance so he couldn't be touched or slightly harmed. This woman was unpredictable and very dangerous in that case, and there was something very peculiar about her that made Batman's insides twitch incredulously; He didn't know what it was, and he was very determined to find out everything he could. He knew she was hiding something – but what? She's hiding so much already simply by hiding her true identity and playing her little 'game' full of pranks, jokes and mind-tricks, all behind that name that made people's skin crawl and their body shiver in fear whenever they heard it: "The Joker", a name you wouldn't think would haunt and overpower your very nightmares. The most suspicious thing was that, no one knows where she came from, where she lived, who she was, why she's done what she's done and why she's doing what she's doing.
Her unnaturally green hair, length to her shoulders and covering her forehead in small locks and strands, hugging her cheeks with blonde and brown regrowth here and there, intensely smudged eyeliner and black paint covered her top eyelid and the brim of her eyes, and smudged below it too, and lipstick smeared across her full lips and the scars that permanently marked her distinctive face shape like a big smile, all on top of her sickly pale skin, strangely resembled the look of a very sadistic-looking clown, including her outfit, which was a purple trench-coat, green waistcoat, blue shirt and green tie, with another purple dress jacket underneath the coat along with matching purple dress pants that curved around her curious figure.
"I don't like to bring too much attention to myself," She had said, chuckling, after being asked why she had worn things like this, why she did what she did, she responded to every one of Batman's questions like it was some sort of lame joke and she was pretending to find it funny, "I do all of this because it's fun! Why do you do what you do, Batsy? Is it some sort of sick, sexual pleasure of yours, hrm? Is it what secretly 'gets you off'?"
In saying that, she had leaned seductively onto the barred part of her cell, ceasing the bouncing of that little black ball.
Batman's continuous and ominous, 'poker-face' expression stretched into a snarl of disgust, leaning closer in and reaching to grab her throat, "Joker, don't play games."
She pulls away almost immediately, ignoring his attempt, "Aw, c'mon! That's no fun! Y'know, games are lots of fun – Have you ever thought about living a little, eh? Bend the rules!"
"You're sick," He says darkly, only responding to her questions the way she wanted him to. She cracks into a fit of that hysterical, creepy laughter, backing away to the four-legged stool before sitting again and picking up her little black ball, still laughing. Batman only cringes as it rings through the air and echoes airily off the cell walls.
"Tell me something I already don't know, then we'll talk," She winks at him, continuing with the laughter, resuming the bouncing of her black ball.
A silence had found its way through the two, Batman observing her curious behaviour as she bounced the ball over and over again against the back wall, she chuckles after a while, "Anyway, what's the big, bad, bat want with me? I haven't stirred up any chaos in Arkham thus far, I've been a relatively good girl, what's all the fuss about?"
Batman remains silent, as the Joker turns towards him with a swipe of her tongue across her lips. Batman snickers, ignoring her previous statement and asked what he intended to get to, "What's your intention, how'd you get in here?"
Joker laughs again, and she turns back to Batman with a mischievous little grin as she stands up again and walks towards the bars that separated the two of them, hands in pockets, whispering in her harsh, grainy voice, "You know just as well as I do what I did to get in here, and I intend to stay a while. I quite like it here, and I quite like the fact that I'm getting your undivided attention."
"Attention?"
Joker shrugs, "Chicks dig the big, bad, bat, what can I say?"
"What're you playing at?" Batman tilts his head to the side a little, confused at where this was going.
"Oh, y'know, a little this, a little that," Joker makes a few dodgy hand gestures, "A little foolin' around, perhaps."
"This isn't funny."
"Oh, I wasn't trying to be funny. Just because I like crackin' a few jokes now and again, doesn't mean I'm always trying to be funny."
"JOKER!" Batman lashes out to her throat, "NO GAMES."
She dodges with ease, laughing as she does it, "Oh! Aren't you the kinky one? I like that, a lot."
"JOKER!"
"Now, now! Learn to keep the little bat in its cage! Then again, I ain't complaining," She giggles again, leaning her shoulder on the edge of the bars a little too seductively, hands dug into her pockets, turning away.
Batman collects himself, breathing, remaining calm, "I'm being serious."
"Quite, I see. Well, sweetie-pie, so am I," She winks, turning back towards him, "Its only my 'intention'."
Oh, Arkham, Arkham, burning bright – let me burn you up tonight!
A/N: Alright, first attempt at a Joker fan-fiction, and this is based off of the Dark Knight Joker but as a female… More surprises in store. Just would like to give a big thanks to my boyfriend who helped with some of the lines and ideas in this, don't know what I'd do without him, seriously. He is amazing.
Anyway, please read and review, let me know what you think. Criticism is much appreciated. Hugs and kisses xo, A.
