So, apparently I'm continuing this (which I didn't really think I'd do, to be totally honest, sorta kinda), but meh, it's fun. Its oddness interests me, which is probably a good thing. But yes, hope you like. Thanks for all who've been interested thus far! I never expected this much interest, so it's a pleasant surprise.

Disclaimer (cos I forgot first chapter): don't own anything related to Batman, so don't send him after me. Well... nah, don't send him :)

The following evening, precisely twenty-four hours since she had last been there, she was taking her usual shortcut through the park. This time, though, there were no passers by on the trail, everyone terrified of this crazed individual running rampant through the park and paranoid he would come for them, but she shrugged the notion away. True, technically he was harmful, but not directly. He hadn't gone after her brandishing one of the pointed rods like a lance hell-bent upon gutting her point-blank, so she felt reasonably safe.

As she passed by the pond she glanced at the water's edge, searching for the man's distinctive purple coat, but she saw no hint of it in the weak light of the streetlamps.

"Where are you going? I don't mind. I've killed my world and I've killed my time," a voice spoke out loudly from behind her, making her jump and spin on her heel to see yesterday's man cat-walking his way towards her, his attire and appearance precisely how it had been when she last saw him. "So where do I go? What do I see? I see many people coming after me."

"I should say so," she remarked, feeling herself slowly walking backwards, as he showed no indication of slowing in his stride. "You've rather miffed some people with the rods in the water thing. So, tell me, was there really any point to that?"

"Why, of course there was," he replied, stopping some five feet away from her, looking puzzled as if the answer to her question were obvious. "It's some form of science, physics maybe. See, the poles were all the same thickness at one end, then they gradually narrowed down to a little sharp piece—"

"No, I mean, was there any reason you did that?" she corrected, giving a little laugh. "Was there some sort of result you were aiming for by sticking those rods in the water?"

"Mmm, no, not so much," he admitted, placing a gloved finger to his crimson lips in thought. "Sorta just felt like it."

"Ah, a man of impulse," she remarked. "But really, you did get on many people's bad sides. They're all considerably cross with you for what you did yesterday. What were some of their words of choice… a 'twisted individual', a 'psychopath', a 'monster'…"

"Oh, but see, I'm not a monster," he informed her. "I'm ahead of the curve. You see, if all those thick-skulled citizens had put a bit more thought into the event then they could have come up with some other results, such as it could have been a trap being set for if someone, let's say the Batman for example, were chasing some slippery baddie around Gotham City and was just about to lose him when he tripped and fell into the water, precisely where my spikes were. Never thought of that one, now, did you?" he asked confidently.

"That's one way of looking at it, I supposed," she said with a raised eyebrow and pursed smile. She glanced back at him, properly, and noticed he was fidgeting considerably in place, like he loathed holding still, so she kept talking to keep him interested and from running off. "So, what's with all the make-up and stuff? The coat? The clothes? Don't get me wrong, I love the clothes, honest, but why? How come you want to stick out so prominently?" she asked, sincerely curious. "What's the story of the grin?"

"Life's been good to me," he told her, licking at his lips with a flickering tongue. "And, you look to be a young enough naïve little bird, so I won't tell you the story of my smile. You strike me as a squeamish little girl," he mused, tilting his head to one side to gather his speculations.

She crossed her arms. "I'm not little and I'm not squeamish. And your denying me is making all the more curious, so you really should just tell me."

He smacked his lips lightly, opening his mouth to speak, when somewhere not too far down the trail the sounds of alerted voices and dog barks echoed through the trees.

"Here's what I'll do," he told her, reaching into his coat to pull out a piece of paper, presenting it to her. "Here's my card, aand I'll get back to you, 'kay? Wonderful," he said with a finish, turning and walking quickly in the opposite direction of the voices.

"Hey, what's up?" she called after him. "I can… I might be able to help you. Get you out of town for a while. Find someone you can talk to? Anything?" she tried, louder and louder, but he had long since vanished through the trees, and as she shook her head in defeat a half dozen policemen came striding down the path, jogging after their dogs as they sniffed out scents. Casually she stashed what the man had given her in her sleeve as one of the cops came up to her.

"Excuse me, ma'am, but have you seen this man?" he asked quickly, flashing a blurry snapshot of what surprisingly appeared to be the man she had just been talking to.

"N-no, I haven't, no, sorry," she stammered, and missing her hesitation entirely he dashed after the rest of his team and in no time was out of sight as well.

Making sure they were indeed gone she withdrew the bit of paper from her sleeve, and holding it under the streetlight saw that it wasn't just a piece of paper, but a tattered playing card, a joker to be precise. Turning it over in her palm a few times she shrugged, pocketing the card and made her way through the park.