A/N: Yes, I am rewriting this story. I wasn't satisfied with how much I was involving in it and decided to make it a lot more simpler and easy to follow.

XXXXXX

She was at a desecrated carnival. It was dark out. She was sitting in what looked like an old place to sit for one of the rides. She felt something resting on her right shoulder. But she paid no mind to it. She couldn't. She was too fixated at the man at the base of the steps leading up to the makeshift throne she was sitting in. He was middle-aged and naked. He was on his knees and almost weeping. Two midgets were keeping him submitted. One held onto a leash that connected to a collar around his neck, and the other had an electrical prod.

"What am I doing here?" he asked in a very pain-filled voice.

"Isn't it obvious?" A very creepy voice next to her answered. "You're going mad."

The two little people led him off, and Karasuba finally seemed to regain control of her neck muscles. She looked first to her right and found that the thing resting itself on her shoulder was a hand wearing a white glove. She then looked to her other side and saw a man, if he could be called that. He had hideous scars going from his lips halfway up to his ears, giving him a permanent smile. His face was coated with white makeup that looked like it had been applied by himself without the use of a mirror. Red makeup was over his lips and scars, and black circles surrounded his eyes. His hair was messy and green. He was dressed in a purple suit and matching overcoat. He continued to look at the strange trio until they disappeared inside one of the rides. He then turned his attention to her and smacked his lips. "Quite a spectacle, no?" His possibly rhetorical question was spoken in Engish, but yet she somehow understood him.

Karasuba didn't answer. She just looked at him. She had never seen him before in her life. So why did she feel a strong compassionate feeling towards him?

The lack of a response didn't seem to faze him at all. He used his free hand to reach into one of the pockets of his overcoat. He pulled out his hand and in it was a shiny red apple.

"To us," he said before taking a large bite out of it.

At that moment Karasuba awoke in a cold sweat. She looked around to see where she was. To her relief it wasn't the carnival she had dreamed she was in. It was her private room in MBI Tower. She breathed heavily. She knew she was pretty close to evil, but that... man she had been with in the subconscious vision... He was like chaos incarnate. She felt a very complex emotion then. She didn't want to see him again, and yet at the same she wanted to be by his side and watch whatever it was he was about to do.

XXXXXX

It had finally been too much. All of the Bat's incessant interruptions had finally tweaked something within him. He felt like he needed sometime off. Without being inside Arkham Asylum.

While he did feel... incomplete without his makeup, he knew that his usual veneer would alert everybody within shouting distance instantly. So he reluctantly chose to only wear makeup that would hide his signature scars. At least until he had a base and several 'toys.' Then he would make himself known. He thought about possibly taking over this place like he did that pathetic excuse for a country in Europe, but decided against it.

"I'm on vacation," he reminded himself quietly as he rode in the back of the cab. He looked out the window at the most known city in the country he had chosen to unwind in. Europe was out of the question. South America was Bane's turf, and chances were that freak Rā's was somewhere in the Middle East or Africa. That left one rational option: Asia. Or more specifically, Japan. He admired the lights of the skyscrapers. One caught his eye. A towered that surely was relevant to the term, seeing as it towered over all the other buildings. It had a huge clock face on its roof. As he observed the marvel of civil engineering his cab came to a screeching halt.

"We are here, buddy," the driver said gruffly. The Joker could understand him perfectly; he had been studying up on the language for nearly a year. This vacation, unlike the vast majority of his actions and choices, wasn't just a random thought he had decided to make a reality. He had been planning it.

"Thanks," he said in his naturally creepy voice. He climbed out of the car with his silver-topped walking stick in hand, leaving behind a small object that he had been holding in his other hand. Presently his garbs consisted of a black overcoat that was done up in the front, black dress pants and shoes, white dress shirt, and a wig that concealed his green hair, making it appear a light shade of brown. He had arranged for his luggage to be delivered to the fine hotel for him. He had a fairly large private fortune thanks to several... business ventures. He walked over to the driver's window and lightly tapped the top of his cane on it. After the driver rolled down the window he handed a generous amount of money.

"Thanks!" the driver exclaimed with a wide smile and even wider eyes.

"Enjoy it while it lasts," said the Joker who was already walking away. "Which will be very, very short." Just as he walked through the hotels main doors, the cab he had ridden in exploded into a ball of fire. While he would have loved to use a little Smylex, he didn't want his signature weapon to be discovered so soon in this new territory. People in the hotel began screaming and running towards the wreckage, but he paid no mind and walked over to the clerk who was frantically dialing for help. After hearing her indistinctive rambling for three seconds he lost his patience and pressed down on the silver bell on the countertop, making it ring several times in a matter of one second. Finally the clerk looked at him with saturated eyes. Again he paid no mind to his surroundings.

"I've a reservation," he explained. "My name is Jack White."

"Bu-but," the clerk struggled to speak as she fought the urge to cry. "Somebody is most probably dead outside!"

"Seeing as it wasn't me..." Joker said through gritted teeth. "I don't care."

Two minutes later he was in a Luxury Suite all by himself. He discarded his normal-looking clothes and put on his suit and makeup. He tossed the wig aside and looked out the window to the setting sun. "This is going to be both fun and funny!" He paced over to his enormous suitcase and placed it on the edge of the bed. He opened it and looked at the organized clothing. He tossed aside the top and only layer to reveal a cache of knives, guns, explosives, and makeup. There was also a plentiful amount of Smylex grenades, spray cans, and darts. He stocked up and prepared for the night. He decided to travel lightly; three knives hidden in his pockets, a sawed-off shotgun, a tranquilizer gun filled with Smylex darts, and a flower on his lapel that would shoot out hydrofluoric acid. He placed the shotgun in its holster, which was strapped to his right thigh, and hid his tranquilizer gun in one of the inner pockets of his overcoat. Tonight wasn't a night for joy; it was for finding a base of operations. His tilted his head to the side, effectively cracking his neck several times, and took off into the night. "Time to spread some joy."

XXXXXX

Karasuba experienced another strange dream. She was at the same carnival as before, but standing near what could only be its entrance. She looked around. The whole was like last time: desecrated, sorrowful, and dangerous. She heard two voices, one familiar, one foreign.

"Don't like it? I'm crazy for it!"

"Really? You actually want it? And the price I mentioned ain't too steep?"

"Oh my good sir," he said with a chuckle. "Money is not a problem. Not anymore..."

"Well, I guess with a lady that fine involved..." He pointed over to her. "... A guy would do just about anything."

Karasuba looked at the clown she was apparently involved with. He had a smile on his scarred lips, but she could tell in his eyes that the other man had pressed a button that was about to explode right in his face.

She drowned out the majority of the conversation by thinking and wondering what the Hell was going on. She came back to reality when the man in clown makeup and purple suit walk over to her.

"I told him he was free to stick around." He had a smile, an actual smile not courtesy of his scars, and was detaching something from his right hand. It was a small strap with what looked like a needle on it. "So why don't you make yourself at home while I got and get our main attraction?"

He walked out of the carnival and into whatever lay ahead. She looked over to the man from whom she and her apparent partner had purchased the land from. He was sitting on a kiddie ride that looked like it was about to break at any second. She walked over to him and gasped at his face. It was white as fresh snow and blood was dripping from his lips, which were curled in a horrendous smile.

She awoke like last time; with a start and heavy breathing. She lifted herself out of the comfortable bed and walked over to her private wash-room. Her hair was sweaty and matted and stuck to her face. She pulled it of her skin and looked into her own eyes. She decided that returning to sleep would be impossible. So she got dressed in her old Discipline Squad uniform and fastened her nodachi and scabbard to her side. She tied her silver hair back into a ponytail and walked out into the night. She leapt from rooftop to rooftop, going nowhere in particular. She just wanted the sun to rise. She slowly made her way to the docks. Once there she saw two weak and pathetic humans arguing about something trivial no doubt. Any other time this thing happened she would have left them to their pointless lives, but a flash of color stopped her dead. She came to a stop on a high roof and looked down to the pair. One was a middle aged man normally dressed. He was yelling at the other, who was donning a purple overcoat and green hair.

"Is it him?" Karasuba asked quietly to herself. She continued watching with undivided attention. The green-haired man took his lecture calmly, and then without warning pulled a handgun out from his pocket and shot a dark into the other man's neck. The normal looking one stopped talking and then began to laugh uncontrollably. He continued like this for about ten seconds before he fell to the ground with a grin frozen on his lifeless face. Now she HAD to meet the hideous clown.

The Joker looked down at his latest victim.

"A simple 'no' would have sufficed," he said in his native language. He turned on his heels to walk away to the next stop, but froze before he could even take a single step. Standing not four feet in front of him was a woman. She had long silver hair tied back in a ponytail. She wore a tight-fitting black top, miniskirt, and boots that went to halfway up her thighs. Draped over her shoulders was a huge gray coat. But it was what was strapped to her side that caught his attention.

Karasuba now knew this was the man she had been dreaming of for days. There was no mistake. Her point was airtight due to the pleasurably warm feeling she felt all throughout her body. She stared at him with a blank face, and he looked back with an equally unreadable. He looked surprised and interested in her. He was still holding the dart gun in his right hand. He looked down to her scabbard, and then he brought his gun up so he could look at it. He then brought his hand back down to his side.

"Okay, let's just be cool here." His voice was creepy, but Karasuba found it infatuating. Then with out warning he brought his gun back up and shot a dart right into her exposed upper-thigh. "Go out laughing, that's what I always say!" He cackled and ran off. Karasuba suddenly couldn't help up grin like a madman. She pulled the dart out of her and looked at it. She could feel whatever was in it coursing through her, but her inhuman immune system eventually neutralized it. She then heard the firing of a gun not too far from her. The insane laughter of the clown filled the air and then a convertible car came racing past her. She caught a glimpse of him driving it. He sped off into the young night. She looked in the opposite direction he had just left in and saw a dead body on the sidewalk not a hundred feet away from her.

He had killed someone he had never met before. He had murdered a nobody. He liked to kill. he didn't care who he hurt or what he did. Karasuba could now understand what was going on. That psychotic clown was her Ashikabi. Her Fated One. She had to find him. She looked back towards the direction he had raced off, but he was long gone. This didn't faze her at all.

"He'll come back. He'll kill again. Just like me." That last part filled her with joyousness. She had found someone like her. She had long thought that was impossible. Now all she had to do was find him.