Hi everyone! I'm so excited to present this story, because I worked (and still work!) really hard over it. The project is to describe the important moments in J and B' relationship, and how they slowly discover lights and shadows, pains and strenghts in the other. Some tales will be harsh and hard, others emotional, others rathe silly. I'll try to update every three days, but some chapters are pretty long to translate: I really hope you would like my creature, and that I'll build a believable universe and characters who seem as deep and incredible as they are. If you come up with ideas for a chapter, please let me know it, and I'll gladly try to arrange something. Well, thanks for reading, and enjoy the story. Let's begin.
A Black Fable
Batman
Night is never silent, in Gotham. The city cries, swears, bursts with life and words and curses; clacson mingle with too many lights. You breathe in the wind and think about all the stories that tangle up and kill each other under you, that wait for you to write their epilogue or their cliffhanger. And you think about your story, the one which has enchained you for years and which you can't, you don't want to end before figuring out at what page you are.
Joker is in front of you, bony fingers playing with the stiletto's blade and head bent. He has just slaughtered five people and he hasn't bothered to clean his cheek; on him red is always obscene. He keeps eyes half-closed, but behind it's a frenzy of green fire.
-Wanna tell you a story, Bats. Maybe you'll find some deep meaning in it.- He wabbles slowly, one foot to the other, one foot to the other. You let him talk, carefully conveying the fisful of adrenalin running under the skin and transforming it in steel.
-Once upon a time there was a noble knight with a black cape, and a jester with white hands and a red smile. The knight and the jester lived in a kingdom full of amazing marvels and unforgivable horrors, of sparkling towers and sick skies. But the most incredible thing is that they weren't children of the day, like everyone else; no, they belonged to the night, and at every sunset they run among the kingdom streets, chasing and challenging the other with their powers. The knight indeed could weave magic tapestries, spinning in them tales of honor and peace, and he was sure that, although so many people run away from the judgement of his sword, one day other warriors would understand his mission and take his enchanted banners.- Joker walks on the roof with the broken lightness of a puppet. His voice becomes thick, as if it rises from unimaginable distances. -But don't forget the jester: because he too had a great power, and it was to undo, just with his jokes, every banner the knight entwined, revealing to the kingdom people that even dreams are made of flesh and even they die with oh, such ridiculous ease. And for this reason, because the jester tore apart his tapestries and reminded him that they were nothing but blood and fabric, the knight chased him on the manors' roofs all the night, to reclaim the threads he stole and to fabricate another tapestry, a banner even the jester couldn't untie. He hadn't realized that he would never manage to do such a thing.- Joker stops, spreading his arms. -And he hadn't realized that the delirious jokes the jester told were only the true voice of the world.-
You stay still and your armor, the one under the flesh, starts to creak.
A knight. A jester. Trapped in a black fable, with no writer and no end.
-What is this supposed to mean?- you ask at last.
-Ah, I knew you would asked it. Well, it has no meaning, Bats, just like life.- There is a shadow of gravity on Joker's face. -But it's a good story. And that's enough.-
You watch him smile; when you inhale the air stinks of concrete and burned grease, but suddenly the roofs have the battlements of a medieval fortress, the clock's tollings are temple's bells. Your cape is black, his hands are white, and he has just ripped up your tapestry.
You close your eyes, open them.
One moment, and you jump on him.