Sky: (shifty glance) It's Joker time, ladies and gentleman. Yup, this is almost entirely him, and especially his thoughts of Val. And it was so much fun to write. (Maniacal chuckle) Oh, and for those of you afraid there won't be anymore "friendly" banter between Val and Joker, don't worry. It's still gonna be there and will almost certainly remain there until the end of the story. It's just to much fun to get rid of. Now, on to the Un-Cuddly Joker chapter!
Chapter 8: Does Not Play Well With Others
He was so very pleased with himself.
Yes, as the Joker shuffled down one of Gotham's back streets, a bit more spring in his childishly light gait then usual, he could not help but beam with joy, scarred lips turned up in a jovial smile, mentally patting himself on the back. He had done it again, against all odds. Escaped from jail, come face to face with his Batsy again, foiled Gordon and his useless hounds once more, and seduced the irritating Commissioner's beloved protégé to boot.
The man cackled to himself, skipping along a bit more before he prepared to give in and called a taxi. That was something he was particularly proud of. Not only was the girl close to the good Commissioner, a reason he had decided to keep her alive in the first place, she was also infinitely entertaining. It was rare thing to come across one who could match wits with him, and rarer still, to find such a quality in a woman. Not that he minded. It was actually amusing. And he did so love to be amused.
Yes, his new toy was a walking mass of contradictions, a chaotic void of emotions artfully crafted into human form for his pleasure. So strong, so arrogant and witty, stubborn and yet, at the same time, so very terrified of others. Terrified, that they might see her for she really was. The way he had.
He giggled again; so fragile, so very fragile. Beneath that ragged, confident façade she wore as easily as a second skin, he saw what she really was. The same innocent, trusting creature she had been so many years ago before the incident at the bank, before she had given birth to her twin souled, darker sister. That he managed to see through this, see what she was truly thinking beneath that other skin, had served both to terrify and intrigue her. It had also served to bind her to his cause more effectively then any threat.
She was afraid. For all her vaunted airs, shows of confidence and stiff upper lip, the woman remained afraid. Afraid to raise her guard, lest someone hurt her as the thug had. Six years later, he thought with a perverse sense of pleasure, and she remained wrapped in garroting wire, this time strangling herself. That was her true weakness. Valentine refused to trust, especially, he mused, still pleased, those she loved and respected most. The ones she dared let under her guard in the first place. Ones such as Commissioner Gordon.
And once the Joker had known this, manipulating her had been the easiest thing in the world.
The man waved over a cab, pleased that, without his make up, no one seemed to recognize him. A change of clothes meant a lot in Gotham. He climbed into the vehicle, good mood seemingly contagious, "The Narrows please."
The driver regarded him as though he'd lost his mind, "Sir, you don't want to be going there. Cops didn't patrol it enough before, now its just a home for lunatics and thieves."
Joker grinned, "Exactly." From the look on the cabby's face, he wasn't reassured, but, at the prospect of being paid, did as ordered. The Clown Prince of Crime, watched the buildings pass by in a colorless blur for a few moments before tiring of it and returning to his own thoughts. They were always less dreadfully serious.
Manipulation had always been something he was good with. Despite his inherent cruelty, he would never bother trying to convince himself otherwise, he knew quite well he was a tyrant, he possessed a charisma that constantly drew others to him, fascinated them. It had been no different with his new little toy.
Once he'd learned her little flaw, watched how she adjusted herself around Gordon to suit him better and, to a lesser and more reluctant amount, himself, it had only been a matter of time.
He'd fed her exactly what she wanted to hear, what she'd been fervently looking for for years. An excuse, a justification, to close herself off from the one person she'd allowed herself to trust. That she'd been used, was a puppet, that she'd given six years of her life to a heartless wretch, that this had never been something she wanted, yada, yada, yada, etc.
Had she not been looking so hard for just such an excuse to betray those she trusted and herself, she might have seen the blatant lies behind his statement. He'd hadn't bothered trying to conceal them, still judging her character.
And that was the most delicious part of it all. She'd allowed him to do it, gently averting her eyes as it suited her and her ends. She'd allowed him to blind her.
And that, that had pleased him.
He sighed; he missed his new toy. If only he could have brought her along to play…
But alas, Gordon had done a most effective job of poisoning the mind of his little doll. No, he hadn't missed the traces of guilt floating around in the depths of her bright eyes this morning, nor the reservations she'd expressed about needlessly taking the life of another. That had been part of what had inspired him to leave her. She was still attached to her former master.
So he'd told her to go back to work till he called for her, in effect pulling the hood over her eyes again. And she hadn't fought him.
Despite his intentions of returning for her, for he would never willing part with such an entertaining creature, he had neglected to tell her his location, or even his destination. He supposed, on a whole, he trusted her well enough; she had gotten him out of prison after all, but where Gordon was concerned, the poor thing was of a remarkably mercurial temperament. If that idiot Commissioner got it into his head to interrogate his lovely little pet, which he had no doubt the man would, damn him, she would sing like a morning lark. And he had no intention of going back to jail.
Another sigh. His dolly would need some reeducation before they could play again. He was bored of her guilt ridden devotion to Gordon. He wanted to play with that darker half, the pretty, sparkly eyed creature that had the guts to challenge him. She was his favorite.
Beside Batsy of course. He still loved his Batsy.
The cab pulled over at the bridge leading to the Narrows, obviously not wanting to go any further into the abandoned section of Gotham then absolutely necessary. Still feeling jovial, the Joker paid him with some of the money he'd retrieved from his pet's purse. He doubted she'd mind and, if she did, he could easily repay her later. A few banks made that an easy enough errand.
He waited till the vehicle was safely out of eye sight before continuing his little venture. Time to find himself a little lair, and a few thugs along with it. He didn't bother to reapply his makeup, or even change. He relished in the element of surprise. It had served him well in the past and would again now.
He headed down to the less run down, but obviously empty buildings along the fringes of the bridge. This entire area was, as the cabby had mentioned, most desolate save for the occasional lunatic. Or gang.
And at the moment, he was looking for the gangs.
Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he headed towards one of the larger apartment complexes. From the looks of it, this one was as desolate as the others. But, to his trained eyes, the signs of wear, nearly invisible to another, were evident. The wood around the door seemed more worn, an obvious sign that it was used often. And, more importantly, something of a trail had been etched out of the ground, a slightly more smooth little path marking that people often passed this way. And he highly doubted the lunatics had congregated together inside. Yes, he decided this would work well for him.
Humming loudly enough that anyone in the area would hear him amidst the silence, but not so loud as to seem conspicuous or overly forward, Joker strode towards the doors, looking as innocent as he possibly could.
As he predicted, men, their skin all adorned with jagged tattoos, stepped out of the shadows to apprehend him. He grinned inwardly, ah, so simple.
One, larger then all the others and slightly taller then himself, stepped even closer, brandishing a cruel looking pipe, "You picked the wrong place to frequent, pretty boy."
Another stepped up, this one female, a lewd twinkle in her dull eyes. Not shiny at all like his pretty toys, he noticed with a pout. "Aw, he's kinda cute. Can I keep this one?"
The first man growled, "You kept one last week, Tira. This one goes to the boss." The woman, Tira, sulked, crossing her dirt smudged arms irately over her ample cleavage, obviously trying to sway her superiors judgment. Since his arm was still seized and he was drug brusquely inside, he could only assume it fell far short of the mark.
The place was what he'd expected it to be inside. Dirty, empty, cold. All these things applied to the current room the thugs had managed to haul him to. It wasn't the best area he'd even seen, but there appeared to be a decent amount of room and, more importantly, a decent amount of members in the gang.
He nearly preened at the idea of so many new recruits. All he needed was to come to an agreement with their leader. Thugs were good like that, so willing to pledge their allegiance to the however demanded their respect. Usually, he smirked, this meant nothing more then offing their current leader. So simple.
His fingers, the free ones that weren't being commandeered/frantically clutched by Tira, brushed soothingly against the knife he'd hidden beneath the top of his jeans, partly hidden by the hem of his shirt. The cool metal was a refreshing change against his warmer skin, and served as a gentle reminder of his own strength. This was already finished.
They had come to a stop, and the largest thug departed to fetch their leader. The woman, he focused for a moment, stretching to remember this insolent creatures name….Tifa, Tessa, Tracy, Tira….yes, Tira! Tira remained, still clutching his arm protectively to her chest. Ironically, she supposed he was her toy. The very notion of such a thing seemed ridiculous.
Still he suffered it, waiting patiently, and with more calm then a prisoner should have, for the man to arrive. He didn't have to wait long.
He was a surprisingly short thing, their leader, a good four inches less then his own considerable height, and was stockily built. And balding, he noted with some disdain. The creature settled down, motioning for Ms. Tira to join him; the woman pouted again, but released her death grasp to return to her masters side. So was full was he, with relief, that he almost missed the thing talking to him, "You took a wrong turn, pretty boy. I've got plenty of friends here who would like nothing more then to scar that pale face of yours."
Joker smiled, showing his slightly yellowed teeth, head cocked slightly to the side, "Oh, see, that's a problem. See, my face is already all scarred up. No more room for your lackeys inelegant marks and all that."
The thug laughed, causing a chain reactions of chuckles to traverse through the room, "This one has some fight in him." Obviously bored of talking, the mass of flesh lumbered forward, aiming what he supposed would have been a deadly punch towards his "prisoners" jaw, in attempt to teach him some "respect."
It was easily sidestepped. Before the man could register the motion, his arm was pinned against the wall, a dagger jumping artfully to his opponents hand only to come to rest at the corner of his mouth. His lackeys heaved a collective gasp, jumping up to arms. None, however, were moved enough to act, looking on in wonder at this scrap. Joker grinned again, this time licking his scars. "More then you know. Now, if you're done with your pathetic attempts at imposing me, I have a business proposition for you. Nod if you understand." The man did as told, terror creeping into his eyes. "Good boy, good boy, keep it up and you might get out of this alive." More horror filled the poor mans orbs. "Now, I'm looking for a few more, well, employees, you might say," he pitched his voice to the entire room, "Do you suppose I might find some here?"
The room nodded, causing him to smile once more. "Ah, good, you boys have obviously learned the drill," he patted their soon to be ex-leader condescendingly on the cheek, "Speaks leagues of your leader." He watched the man a bit closer, "But, if I'm to take over this little group, we can't have two leaders now can we?"
A loud "no", chorused through the room. How delightful! Joker's smile widened, terrifying even without the clown makeup, attention now fully focused on his hostage, "I suppose you and me could share the power…right?" A ragged, terrified nod. Still grinning, he dropped the knife from the corner of the mans cheek down the his neck. Relieved, the man let out a sigh of absolute relief.
At that, Joker slid Valentine's knife cleanly across the former leaders throat, the crimson liquid coating the smooth blade. Smiling to himself, he bent and wiped the sticky substance on the still dieing mans shirt, watching as he gurgled and choked on his own life blood. "Wrong. We never share power."
Feeling more like himself then even, Joker gave him new troupe a playful bow, enjoying their horror stricken faces. With an elegant motion of his hand, he called the woman, Tira, wasn't it? He still wasn't entirely certain, over to him, allowing her to drape herself proudly across his arm. "And now, my good little children," he purred, "We introduce Gotham to the true definition of chaos."
All he needed now was his lovely little dolly.
Sky: IT'S DONE! And you know what, I loved it! This is the first chapter I've actually been completely pleased with. Is that sick? Slightly twisted? Who knows. Hopefully Joker remained in character through out this little indulgence of mine. Don't worry though, in the upcoming chapters, we will have some verbal sparing. I'm starting to miss writing it. Hopefully you enjoyed this! Until next time, loves!
