"Jack. Make your damn move already." Jonathan Crane remarked with a bit of a snort, dying bits of a cigarette hanging from between his lips. He was the Scarecrow when Bruce Wayne was Batman, and that burlap sack was always with him to remind him of his past as such a psychopath. He was now in his early fifties as well, though, and finally giving up in his lunacy of trying to make everyone so SCARED of everything. Batman was the reason why that never worked; that loon anyway. Why should he be talking though? He pranced around in a burlap sack to hide his cowardly damned face from the world...
But JACK. Jack Napier was a true nutcase. He couldn't even concentrate on a game of CHESS, for God's sake. Jonathan, he was rather sane, as he always had been in his eyes. He still had those suits that noone could EVER steal from him, the tuxedos bought with the money he stole his OWN self. He was graying, as was Bruce, how old was he now? He'd been in Arkham too long; couldn't remember these things anymore. But was the asylum finally brainwashing him into being sane? How does that work? The Scarecrow couldn't have died...could it?
"Come ON, Jack, you KNOW I hate it when you do this." He remarked coldly, letting cigarette smoke snake from between his lips as he spoke.
Jack Napier, who was once and will always be the Joker, was having a good bit of fun, toying with Jonathan like this. "C'mon, Johnny..." He said with a giggle, that one of lunacy that couldn't EVER be replicated. "Just let me think..." He tapped his white chin with a gloved hand, eyes surveying the chessboard quickly, dancing around the pieces that were still there. He, sadly enough, was losing. "BOY, I can't play very well anymore...Do you think I'm finally losing it, Johnny?" He asked, with a sickly-sweet grin that couldn't add much to his already permanent smile. He brushed messy green hair out of his eyes as he looked up at Jonathan with a moment of sanity, it seemed, of naivete and vulnerability. "Do you REALLY want me to answer that question, Jack? And would you stop calling me Johnny?" This made Jack pause for a moment before looking back down at the chess set, green hair falling back in his face. He seemed to be thinking hard for a moment before bringing up his hands and sweeping all the chess pieces off the table, the wood making a dull thunkthunkthunk as the polished pieces fell to the floor. "What the HELL was that for!?" Jonathan exclaimed, eyes wide suddenly, standing up from where he was sitting. "There's my move!" Jack said, voice almost a girlish squeal. He kept his seat, though, a rather smug grin on his disfigured face before he cracked up laughing. The laughing was quiet at first, but steadily rose in volume until he was basically rolling on the floor, Jonathan watching in a mix of wonder and befuddlement. Soon Jack was laying on his back on the floor, letting the last of his giggling jag escape him, remarking pointedly "I just kill myself sometimes...Wasn't that just wondrous, Johnny...?" He asked, giggling a bit more as he stood, dusting off his suit. "...You amaze me..." was all Jonathan could urge himself to say.
A guard soon came by their cell, after Crane had picked up the pieces which Jack had so rudely brushed aside. "Ooh, what is it THIS time?" Jack asked with a bit of a giggle, looking up at the burly guard with an expectant grin. "Visitor." was all the man said, gruffly, unlocking the cell door and grabbing them both roughly by one arm a piece. "Oh, boy, a visitor!" Jack said with another giggle, Jonathan staying silent as the two of them were basically dragged off down to the chamber used for such a purpose.
Neither of them were expecting the almost-dead form of Edward Ngma sitting at a table, waiting for the two of them."...You look like hell warmed over, Edward." Jonathan remarked pointedly now as he and Jack were sat down. Edward coughed before responding. "...That doesn't matter now, Jonathan...I saw an...old friend today..." "A friend! Hmm...Who could it be...?" Jack asked with a toying grin as he lightly tapped his chin with his fingertips. He had that small hold on sanity before but now it was gone. "Batman." was all Edward had to mutter. "BATMAN!?" Jack asked with a squeal, laughing now. "Brucie!? Oh, I've MISSED him!" Jonathan said nothing, though, he stayed silent. "...Now...I have a plan...I want to kill him." There was a faint glimmer in Edward's eyes as he spoke, that one that hadn't been there since before he became sick. "Batman must die. And I want.." He paused, letting shaky coughs escape him. "you to help me..." His eyes seemed sunken in a skull that wasn't his own as he watched their separate reactions, one polar opposite of the other. Jonathan shrugged. "Batman is an insect to me...He's not worth my time." He said, dismissively, hand sweeping lightly out in front of him as if brushing lint off his suit. "There's mister reliable for you..." Edward croaked now after recovering from more coughing. "...Always there when I need you, eh, Johnny...?" As he said this, though, Jack had his feet on the table, grinning some to himself. His hands were situated behind his head. "...Jack?" Edward asked quietly now. "Will YOU help me?" "Oh, me? I'd positively love to, Ed...It'd be a gas..." He said with a happy sort of giggle, that energy seeming to come back out from where he was almost gripped by sanity. "...Brucie and I have some unfinished business." "It's settled, then." Edward croaked now, nodding, skeletal fingers drumming restlessly on the table. "But I have a nasty little deed to commit first...Then it'll be onto the fun!" Jack said, grinning and cackling a bit, the guard coming back up behind them. "Very well...Do what you must..." Edward said, gripping his stomach slightly, feeling a new wave of nausea come on. "...But come to me when you are ready." He said this as he stood. "Farewell, to the both of you..." He said, before turning and starting to walk out, a hobble to his step.
The Arkham guard soon grabbed Jack and Jonathan by an arm each, yanking them up and escorting them back to their cell. Jack was let in, but Jonathan bit his lip slightly when he wasn't put back in right away. "What-" His sentence was cut off as he was rudely turned around, cigarettes being yanked from his suit coat pocket. "No smoking for the prisoners." The guard growled, soon shoving him back into the cell and slamming the cell door shut before beginning to lumber away. "WHAT!?" Jonathan snapped, moving quickly over to the bars, yelling at the back of the brute's body. "Those are all that keep me SANE with THIS FOOL IN MY CELL!" He snarled, as the door swung shut behind the guard, Jack slowly standing. "Fool? Johnny...I'm no fool." He said quietly as he stood there, voice again laced with that almost-sanity.