DISCLAIMER: DC Comics and Rocksteady owns everything, not me. What I CAN claim, however, are my OCs. Also, they will own my life when Arkham City comes out… Just saying.
Hymn for the Killers and Liars
/Chapter VI: Fair Warning/
She remembered the first day when she was first admitted to St. Andrews. She wasn't sure of the time when she entered the building. She had been in a car for seemed like forever, though any sort of extensive car-ride felt like forever for a child. She had her eyes closed as she was guided through the front doors. They were heavy with sleep, and she was rubbing them in an attempt to restore her vision. When her hazel eyes did focus on her surroundings, all she could truly make out was the white-ness of it all. The tiled floors, the walls, the plastic legs of the chairs and counter-tops. All of it was empty of color and she found it unsettling. Mrs. Zias attempted to hold her hand as they approached the desk, but Aisling pulled away from her.
The nurse was in a blue tinted uniform, her auburn hair pulled into a messy bun. She glanced at Mrs. Zias for a brief moment, then her gaze shifted to Aisling. She remembered the tingling sensation of anxiousness cripple in her belly under her gaze. The next moment, Mrs. Zias was signing on a clipboard and handing it to the nurse.
The first woman to greet Aisling had the name Angelica. She remembered it because her nametag was pinned just above her right breast pocket and it glimmered underneath the ceiling lights. She was incredibly sweet with Aisling, even when the girl refused to speak. Aising silently refused to take her hand, but Angelica guided her through the hospital. Her tender hand grazed Aisling shoulder as she escorted her from room to room.
The first room she showed her was the lounge room. "This is where you can spend your day doing whatever you like. You can play board games, cards, and even watch tv," she explained as she eased Aisling and herself into the room. "You meet others who live here, too, make new friends." Aisling kept her head cast downward, her eyes tracing the tiles underneath her feet.
The next room was the cafeteria. It was after dinner-time, so the tables were being wiped down, a few kitchen employees were seated at a table and eating. Angelica was kind, asked if Aisling was hungry for anything. She shook her head, but Angelica disappeared into the kitchen nonetheless. When they were leaving, she slipped a Hershey's chocolate bar into her sweatshirt pocket. "You can have that later," she whispered with a genuine smile. It was the first time that Aisling did actually smile, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.
After a few more rooms, Angelica walked her down a narrow hallway. She opened a white door, and escorted her into a small room. In the far right corner was a bed, decorated with a thin, pale blue comforter. To the left was a short dresser, painted white with black handles with a mirror hung on the wall just above; a desk had been crammed in another corner with a plastic chair. There was one window on the opposite wall of the door, but the glass was stained yellow. And it was barred from the inside, obstructing most of the view. "This is your new room," Angelina whispered into Aisling's ear. She always seemed to smile whenever she spoke. As she walked towards the window, she placed one nimble hand onto the mattress. "I know it isn't much, but I wasn't sure what you would like. I was thinking that maybe you and I can look through the storage room at some time. We can find blankets that you like, maybe even put up some posters on the walls." Again, she seemed so compassionate with her beautiful smile as she stepped towards the dark-haired girl. "Would you like that?"
Aisling feinted another smile, nodded her head. She was a horrible liar back then, so she kept her eyes focused on the floor.
By the time Angelica guided her back to Mrs. Zias, she was finished with the last of the paperwork. Mrs. Zias said her farewells, gave Aisling a sheepish hug before disappearing behind the main doors. Shortly after, Aisling was taken to her room. It was dark after all, and they supposed that she was tired from the long drive. They gave her a pair of pajamas and she slipped them on after they closed the door. She placed the chocolate bar into one of the dresser drawers, setting it on top of the clothes.
She didn't sleep on the mattress that night. Instead, she moved the plastic chair away from the desk and placed it front of the window. Then, lacing the blanket from the bed, she wrapped it around herself and seated herself on the chair. She didn't want to look at the walls that surrounded her, didn't want to lay on a creaky old mattress. For the rest of the night, she stared out into the blackness of night until sleep eventually took her.
"Get up. Get up now, or I'll drag you out myself."
Man, was Boles a gentleman when meeting Aisling for the first time. Aisling didn't have a moments warning before two guards stormed into her cell and snatched her up by the arms. She gasped at the sudden movement, and it was like someone had smacked her back into reality. She tried to yell something around "what the hell" but she couldn't sound out the words. It was as if her tongue had swollen while she slept, so she only managed to produce incoherent noises. Her hazel eyes opened only to snap shut from the intense light. It took a few minutes before her eyes could adjust to her surroundings.
"God damn," someone remarked. It was a male's, and it was nasally, like a stereotypical accent for an Italian. "Joker didn't mention how much of a pain in the ass you would be to wake up."
Joker? That didn't sound right to Aisling's ears. Blinking away the black spots that flawed her vision, she focused her attention on a dimly lit figure that stood in front of her cell. It was another guard, or at least that was what she could tell from the characteristic uniform that he wore. Unable to see clearly, all she could make out at first was that he had a tanned complexion and a buzzed scalp of black hair. "Well, it might have to do with the fact that it's in the middle of the night," she mumbled back. At last, she could speak properly!
He scoffed at that. "I guess you have a point. But nonetheless, the 'big man' wants to see you."
Vision cleared, Aisling inspected the guard's face more thoroughly. Unlike the other guard's, the man wore no helmet to reveal a not-so-decent face. It was rough, long stress lines marking his appearance as much as scars did. One in particular ran across the left of his face, making a gash that ran vertically across his eye. It seemed to have damaged the eye too, scarring the pupil to a milky white. Underneath his cracked lips, Aisling could see the dark bristles of his five-o'clock shadow. Aisling wasn't sure if she was compelled to laugh or flinch away at seeing his features. "And you are…?"
"The best damned guard you'll ever meet," he replied with a cocky smirk.
Aisling found his pride quite insulting. "I would prefer a name, actually," she muttered after a short break of silence. Her hazel eyes appeared ominous underneath the luminescent lights. "I'll go first: Aisling. Now it's your turn." The guards that had picked her up were moving her towards the door whilst the conceited guard was opening it.
He chuckled in response as he moved away from the opening and watched as the two shuffled her a few feet away from the cell. "Frank Boles." He produced his hand as if to shake hers. However, with her arms restrained behind her, he dropped his hand and laughed at his own muted joke.
"Hey Frankie!" Aisling was shocked to see that Harley was awake. "Where ya' takin' her?"
"Mind your own damn business, Quinn," Boles shot back. Stepping behind Aisling, he produced a pair of handcuffs from a pocket and snapped them around Aisling's wrists. Once they clicked tightly around her flesh, he tapped the guards on the shoulders to signal that they could let go. As they released their hold on her arms, Boles snatched onto her arm and pushed her forward.
"Hey, be nice on the lady!" she scolded playfully. "You can't treat a woman like that!"
Boles huffed with an irritated sigh. "That's not why –ugh! Will you just shut up!"
"Just sayin'! If you wanna' gal', you have to smooth talk her –"
Aisling interrupted him before he could wake up every prisoner in the room with his yelling. "How about you just take me now, hm? I'm sure that this meeting was supposed have secrecy." Boles glared scornfully at her. Ignoring him, she turned to Harley. The woman had her round face pressed against the bars, distorting her features and pulling her eyes into almond-shaped slits. "Don't worry, we'll be back before you know it. Besides, if he does anything, I'll just smack him upside the head like I did to the other guy." As she expected, Harley broke out into hysterical giggles at hearing that.
"Great. Now that you got the fool laughing, everyone's gonna' wake up," Boles grunted. Using her arm, he steered her away from the cells and guided her towards the exit. By the time the mechanical door had opened, Harley's snickering had subsided and she was grinning broadly
"And no smoochin' on the first date!" Aisling inclined her head to see the clown waving at her before the doors shut behind her.
"Where are you taking me?" she reiterated after a few moments. She perked a brow as she turned her gaze towards the man beside her.
"Intensive Treatment building. They have him locked up in a special cell on the fifth floor."
She frowned, her lips pursing ever so slightly. "Great," she muttered. "I bet it's cold outside, too."
Aisling and Boles were instantly greeted the moment they opened the door to the Intensive Holding room. Unlike the other cell rooms, this one consisted of one square cage. It was kind of like the cell they had placed Hannibal* in the "Silence of the Lambs". The cell was situated in the middle of the room, barred all around and raised slightly above the floor like some sort of platform. However, unlike Hannbal's room where it was adorned with fancy furniture and elaborated decorations, this cell was no more intricate than the cells Aisling had been in. The cell contained a toilet that was crusty with foreign material and a bed that was as comfortable as a slab of concrete. Also, just outside of the cell was a medieval version of a stretcher. It was probably what they strapped the supposed "Joker" to when they were moving him. Aisling found it rather intimidating.
"Boles, my man!." Aisling was unable to get a glimpse of the man's face. The dim lighting was behind him, creating a luminous silhouette of his slender shape. At first the man was sitting on his bed before he jumped up, practically prancing as he approached the front of his cell. "I was worried that you forgot about our little… arrangement."
Boles shoved Aisling forward hard enough that she stumbled. Once she regained her balance, she held her footing and stepped backwards. She managed to stomp on his foot and slammed her shoulder into his chest. It didn't hurt him, but she was able to push him back a little bit. "Knock it off," she hissed lowly. There was no way in hell she was going to be slapped around by this asshole. Sadly, her rebellious attempt wasn't very successful, considering he was about two times bigger than her size.
He shook her by the arm before snapping her body against his chest. "Keep it up and I'll make sure you stay locked in a cell," he snarled. His face was so close to hers that she could feel his hot breath ghost against her ear. For an instant she panicked, almost smashed her head against his. But before she could react, the suspicious fellow interrupted.
"Is that bourbon I smell? Have you been drinkin' on the job again, Frankie-boy?" His once jovial tone lowered to something darker, almost threatening. "You're violent when you drink."
Boles scoffed at the mysterious man, oblivious to the menace in his voice. Aisling on the other hand, really, really wanted to be somewhere else. Somewhere that did not include her and this Joker guy in the same room.
"So what? Someone's gotta' ruff up these ungrateful lowlifes."
"True… But not when some of those 'lowlifes' are mine." Aisling found that she wasn't breathing and had to focus to keep her heart rate even.
She wasn't the only one affected by it, either. Boles silently gasped, his lips parting ever so slightly. Seconds passed before he broke the tension that hung heavily over them. "I brought her. Just as you asked." Aisling could hear him gulp, watched as his Adam's apple bobbed for those few moments. Past his hardened features, she could see the fear evident in his brown eyes.
"Oh goody! I knew you could do it, Jackie-boy!" Like that, the man's dark mood vanished, and he was bubbly once more. He hopped to his right, and gestured towards Aisling. "I hafta' tell ya', it's so… difficult to make reservations with people in Arkham!"
"That so?" she asked after a couple moments. First he was buoyant, then menacing, and now confusingly giddy.
"That is so! The security in here doesn't allow me any visitation rights! What about my adoring fans! What will they think when they find out they can't see their favorite villain! They don't even let me have a chat with my pal Croc! Nothing! Nadda', zip, zilch! None! It's blasphemy!"
"Why didn't you just talk to me during lunch? They seem pretty lenient with everyone when it comes to that," she noted.
The supposed Joker cackled loudly at that. "You're not giving me enough credit, my delicate little Irish Setter! I could do that, but then that wouldn't be fun. Plus, I have a reputation to uphold!"
"So… you thought shuffling me around in the dead of night to meet you was more… appropriate?" She was being incredibly rude, she knew, but at this point she didn't really care. One, she could easily turn around and run and two, there was a thick cell that divided him from her. Also, he just called her a freakin' dog.
He laughed again, his voice so unnaturally high that she nearly flinched. "Why not? I heard you weren't much of a sleeper, anyway." Suddenly, he glared at Boles. "You can leave now. We'll be done in a little bit."
"Fine." With that, Frank Boles turned and headed towards the exit.
"Okay…" She paused for a few moments as the electronic door closed behind Boles. "Why did you want to see me?"
At last, the strange man tilted backwards and revealed himself in the light. His face was long, thin with high cheek bones and a prominently sharp chin. His skin was bleach-white, stretched and lined with stress marks that curved around his thin lips. His eyes were the colors of an intense green, almost as radiant as the color of his wild hair. His eye sockets were caked with black makeup, and the cherry-red lipstick stretched past his lips to the ends of his face. It was… horrifying to see. It was humorous… It was creepy. It was fascinating but appalling at the same time. He was painted as a clown, but it was like seeing a personification of Death. She didn't know whether she should laugh or cry.
"Alright, so I have this lee-ttle problem. All I want to do if have fun. Assemble my own gang, throw parties, strategize robberies, murder and create mass chaos... But this guy, Batman, keeps… interrupting. Foils my plot, knocks me down, and drags me to this asylum! At first it was fun, being captured, then breaking out to get captured… But like all jokes, it became dry."
"And this has to do with me how?" Aisling couldn't interpret the man's emotions. It was like he was having mood swings while he was talking. One moment he sounded coy, the next he sounded annoyed. She desperately wanted to ease her frustration by rubbing her face with her hands, but they were still handcuffed behind her back.
"But I digress. I have a special plan for our costumed hero. And I need people to carry out party orders."
"So you need people to do your bitch-work."
He chuckled, another demented smile playing on his lips. "I wouldn't say that. Working with me can have great benefits! And bad, if you count agonizing torture, severe injuries, possible 3rd-degree burning, high possibilities of death... But hey, who thinks about those!"
"Huh. Let me ask you something. Er, Joker, right? Harley said you had a big plan, and from the looks of it, she wasn't being… entirely delusional. You seem to have a hand-full of guards on your side, explaining how you were able to get me here, but I doubt you have the entire security 'under your thumb.' My question is this: how much longer do you think you can pull this charade before the uncorrupted guards catch on? How about the video camera that's recording every second of our conversation?" Saying that, she jabbed her thumb towards the small recording device that was hanging on the wall. "What exactly are you going to do about that?"
The Joker laughed again, this time clutching to his stomach as if he was in pain. "My, my, what a sly minx you are! I like you." The next instant his wild grin was gone, and he was frowning at her. "Some of Jackie-boy's buddies are working in the security room. Any info regarding to this itty bitty conversation is strictly confidential. I've got everything handled, don't you worry! That is, unless you decline my offer."
"And if I did decline?"
That seemed to have silenced him. The green-haired man detached himself away from the bars and backed to the foot of the mattress, shrouding his face in darkness once more. She watched as his brown knickers padded across the cold floor, his gloved hands swaying by his sides.
"If you did… Then the docs will be performing your autopsy before my celebration even begins." His back was straight, shoulders rolled slightly forward. He was a predator that was ready to pounce. "So what will it be, hmmm? Yes… or no."
Behind her, Aisling could hear the electronic door open, Bole's shoes clunking against the tiled floor as he approached her. She felt his fingers graze her shoulder. She turned around and nodded towards him, signaling it was time for her to leave. She was done with the Joker, she told herself. As she was escorted towards the exit, she glanced over her shoulder. He was still watching her, waiting silently for her answer. His green eyes were bearing into her shoulders like knives. When she stepped into the doorway, she spoke.
"No thanks."
I'll take my chances.
Author's Note:
... *hiding from my laptop*
Don't kill me, I tried my hardest to make Joker sound like himself! I literally sat down and re-read everything and tried to imagine if he would actually say it! DX I know it's not perfect, hell, I know I'll never be able to make him perfect! I really, really hope I did OK with his dialogue…
*awaiting troll-bricks to fly through the computer screen and hit me*
Also, I'm sorry that I didn't have much more to this chapter. There really isn't anything else that could coincide with this. DX Anyway, I love all of ya' that are reading these stories. It means a lot to me .
~Sly-TazZ
