"Come on, you freak."
The guards drug the man down the hall, gripping the straight jacket wrapped around his body. They tugged him around far rougher than necessary, not even allowing him to get his footing.
A malicious grin spread across his face, letting them carry his weight if that's what they wanted. If his arms hadn't been pinned to his sides, they would have been choking on their own blood, begging for mercy they would never receive.
"What the fuck are you smiling about? Damn psycho..." Elbowing him in the ribs, the tall dark haired guard laughed as the prisoners dark eyes narrowed in on him. "Don't give me that look, fuckface. You're not in prison anymore, remember that."
The Clown Prince's brow raised as his lips pulled back over his dingy teeth, giving the man an incredulous look. As if he didn't know where he was... This wasn't his first rodeo...
"Gross... Geez, everytime one crazy leaves, another comes right in..." The guard shook his head as he jerked the clown up who was letting his feet drag behind him. "Get on your damn feet! You keep messing around, I'll knock you out and drag you face down across the floor. We have other shit to do besides lugging trash around."
"Ahh.. Thought this was part of your jobbb. Guess you're in the wrong line of work, uh.." Dark eyes glanced at the name tag on the uniform. "Harolddd.."
The Joker would make sure he'd remember that..for later.
"Shut the hell up..." The two men dragging him pulled him up, letting him get to his feet. A cackle that made their grip tighten on his sides as they froze left his mangled lips. They were already tired just from carrying his weight, that's why they were making him stand on his own. So weak...
"Stop being so rough with him. No matter who he is or what he's done, he is still a patient in our facility. Our job is to keep order and everyone safe, not take out our anger on someone who is restrained."
'Harold' looked back as another guard approached them. The man was tall with blonde hair, his uniform ironed neatly with barely any creases.
The Clown Prince clicked his tongue as he looked at the new comer. Another one of those guys... The urge to mess his clothes up was overwhelming. They were too neat, it was agitating. This man would be locked in the vault for later as well.
"Tch. Stop being such a pain in the ass. Didn't one of your friends get killed because of this maniac's stunts? Why are you defending him? If it were me..." Brown eyes narrowed down at him as the guard shook him back and forth. He couldn't help grinning as his head lulled from one side to the other from the force.
"Enough! It can't be helped... What is hurting a patient going to help? The whole point of this place is to rehabilitate men like him. How is abusing him going to help? If anything it will make patients not trust anyone and become worse." The man's expression turned grim, watching the two other guards look at him like he was insane.
"This...thing...is not a man. Second, there is no rehabilitating anyone here. You already know that. Arkham is just a hyped up super prison. If we don't offer counseling and medication, the funding will be cut in half. Plus, the meds make these loons easier to handle." Harold sneered, looking down at the man in the straight jacket.
Joker sighed as he waited for them to finish rambling on whether he should be beaten or not. The guards will do what they want anyway as soon as the other guy leaves, so what's the point? Not that it mattered. The beatings were just one way to pass the time.
All it ever took was a few words through the cells to get them to come in and fight. When things became too monotonous, it was better than nothing. They were too easy to rile up, letting their emotions cloud their judgement. That was what made this fun... To see someone who pretended to be so composed lose their shit in just a few minutes. They were like puddy in his hands, far too easy to manipulate at every twist and turn.
"Hah...I don't want to have this conversation with you guys again. Don't let me see this happen again or I'll have to inform someone about your conduct." The blonde folded his arms over his chest, eyeing the men in front of him.
Joker rolled his eyes up into his head, rolling his head around. This was becoming incredibly boring... Of course, every conversation and action gave him more information about them than they probably would have liked... It would be useful when the time came.
"Fuck you too, Josh..." Gripping the binds harder, the guard pushed their 'prisoner' forward, wanting to get away from the nosy man watching them.
Going down the hall, Harold grumbled to the dark man helping him with their newest resident. Muttering curses under his breath, the irritation was apparent as his eyes darted along the doors lining the walls. Little did he know, the man he was pushing around was listening to every word that fell from his lips intently.
"Goddamn asshole... I can't stand him one bit, Derek...All he does is fucking put his nose into everything... Acting like a goody-two-shoes... Piece of shit...Always acting like he's better than the rest of us..." The shoes tapping against the floor were louder than necessary, making his anger all the more apparent, even if he didn't realize it.
"I know, right? Just who does he think he is?"
Harold was about to retort as he froze, looking at the grinning man next to him. Realizing the mistake he almost made, he pulled out the black nightstick from his waist, hitting him in the back of the knees.
"No one's fucking talking to you, asshole!" Grabbing the faded green mess of hair, the guard pulled his head back harshly as his knees gave out from the blow.
"WOO! HAHAHAHAHA! How'd you know I liked it rough, Haroldddd?" The clown cackled as the grip on his hair tighten, yanking his head back further.
Grinding his teeth as rage filled him, the guard pulled the nightstick back seeing the toothy smile and they way his prisoners dark eyes lit up at the beating. He was going to smash every disgusting tooth out of this maniac's mouth.
"Woah! Woah! Chill man! Can't you see he's baiting you? I was working here the last time this guy was here. Don't let him get to you or you'll be sorry. That's exactly what he wants!" The red haired guard held up his arm, trying to block the weapon from making contact.
Joker pushed back his mangled lip, his dark eyes narrowing on the man getting in the way. He remembered him...what a pain in the ass. Pushing a breath out through his teeth, his jaw shifted as he was pulled back to his feet.
"Yeah... You're right. I wasn't thinking... Let's just get him to his cell. I need to have a cigarette.." Sighing, the dark haired man pushed the patient forward, trying to shake it off.
"That sounds nice right about now..." The clown grinned, waiting for another push or tug. He could see the wheels turning in the man's head as the muscles in his face tensed, clenching his jaw.
"Just shut up."
Looking forward, the Clown Prince rolled his eyes, knowing it wouldn't take much to make this guy snap. He would be easy...
Snaking his tongue out, it traced along his bottom lip, sliding up to the corner of his scar. The cracked skin was always annoyingly dry, more so when his makeup was off. That was one of the irritating parts of being locked up and not having easy access to the usual things at his disposal. That and the itchy orange outfits the patients were shoved in to...
With his arms pinned to his sides in the straight jacket, he couldn't even scratch anything. This one hadn't even been cleaned, smelling like sweat. There was no doubt the guards had this especially for him after hearing about the transfer.
Walking down the bleak hall, there were cells lining the white walls on either side. Instead of the normal metal doors that had a little window for the guards to look in to, Arkham had opted to use a different approach when a large amount of funding had been donated from Wayne Enterprises.
Now each cell had a large pane of bulletproof glass with small holes in different places, intended for the guards to be able to point their guns on a patient if need be. This gave the patient residents privacy which was said for safety reason. Too many times there were incidences that occurred because the guards either hadn't been watching properly or hadn't had the best view from the hall of what they were doing. With the see through doors, everything could be seen at all times.
None of the guards had the time or patience to sit and look through the tiny window of each and every patient at all hours of the day. Now they could walk up and down the halls and there were CCTV cameras in different spots, giving another pair of eyes.
Each room had another one directly across from it, the ones on either side separated by a short distance. The cells themselves were small... Only a tiny bed and what used to be white walls below a dingy light coming from the ceiling. If the patients need to use the bathroom or bathe, they needed to be escorted by the guards. Just as with the doors, Arkham learned the hard way not to give too much freedom... It would only bite them in the ass. Having access to pipes and the sewers had caused too much trouble, the people living there being more creative than originally anticipated.
Joker hummed a little tune as he was guided pass the cells, looking back and forth at the array of orange clad familiar faces. Eyes peered through the glass as he walked by, some widening in surprise and others narrowing in anger. A wicked grin spread across his face as the other residents took interest in his arrival.
'Guess news still doesn't go too far here...'
"Oh, my old buddies!" He snickered as guards looked at him with disgust, not picking up on the sarcasm.
'Hmmm...Scarecrow, Professor Pyg...' Dark eyes glanced at from one room to the one directly across before moving on to the next set. 'Lock-Up, someone who doesn't matter...Double X, some old lady...Clayface, Riddler...Two nobodies...more nobodies and a fat guy...Crazy Quilt, Falcone...another nobody with an even more nobody across from her...'
The Clown Prince made several mental notes of who was here and which rooms they were in. Details were important. Information is everything, after all.
"Here you are, ass-clown. Enjoy your stay till you die." The dark haired guard pulled a keycard attached to a retractable cord from the breast pocket of his uniform and held it over an electronic pad. As soon as it connected, the red light coming from it turned greens and the glass door opened up.
Without any hesitation, Harold shoved the patient in roughly, making him lose his balance as his side collided with the hard floor.
Joker grit his teeth as he shifted his legs, trying to sit up. That man was finding a comfortable spot on his list... One day very soon, he was going to make him smile...and not at his jokes.
"Ahhhh... Home sweet home!" The two guards raised their brows at him as the glass door closed,not understanding what he seemed to be happy about. Many patients fought and flailed as they were dragged in, not wanting to be trapped in the small cell with no way of getting out..but then again, none of them were the Joker.
"Ha Ha HAHAHAHA!" They were all so dim... The only reason he could have been brought in was because he let them. If he wanted to run away, there were plenty of chances in prison and when being transported to the asylum.
"Shut up, freak..." The blonde guard stood next to the glass door as the other walked off.
'Wasn't he going to go have a cigarette? What is he waiting around for?" The man's back was to his cell. Even if the holes through the glass were big enough to fit his hands through, he wouldn't be able to reach him. If only the guard took a few steps back, the Clown Prince would be able to grab the back of his uniform and yank closer to smash his head against the glass surface...
'Too easy for someone like him... He deserves a personal touch...'
Stretching his legs out in front of him, he ran his tongue up his scar in irritation. They left the straight jacket on him on purpose. They usually did for the first few days, even though they were suppose to take it off after transporting him...until he did something that warranted putting it back on.
The dirty outfit was making his back itch something fierce. Scooting over the floor towards the bed, he shifted as he tried to use the corner of it to relieve the annoyance.
"Ahhh that's the spotttt..." Dark eyes watched the guard as he moved back and forth against the metal frame. Seeing the way the guards head was facing, he followed the trail to the cell across from him.
Cocking his head to the side as he stopped moving, his brows furrowed as he saw what the guard was looking at.
In the little dingy room across the hall, there was a woman sitting on the cold floor, her back propped up against the bed reading a book. Using his feet, he dragged himself across the floor and up to the glass door, trying to get a better look at what the guard was so interested in. That might come in handy down the road.
The small woman had long pink hair that fell down the orange jumpsuit all the patients wore. It went straight up to the roots, making the clown question whether or not it had been dyed. No one in Arkham was given anything to color their hair with unless she'd just been brought in. Even then, there should be something poking through. His own hair needed it long ago, but those were trivial things.
Narrowing his dark eyes closer to the glass, he was able to get a better look as her head was tilted downward as she read. Her skin was fair, even lighter than his when you wiped the white paint from it. Green eyes moved back and forth quickly, taking in line after line of the words in front of her. A purple rhombus was on her forehead, making the clown's head move back as he scrutinized the odd marking. A tattoo?
'What a weird looking person...and that's coming from me.' He mused as he watched the woman across the hall. She had a delicate face with full pink lips, the bottom getting pulled into her mouth as she grazed her teeth over it, absorbed into the book. It was far different from what one usually saw in a place like this...
Glancing her over, his brows raised as he glanced the the hands holding the book. Unlike most other patients, there were strange gloves covering them, only the tips of her fingers exposed. They looked almost like an odd type of metal fingerless gloves, but the way they moved as she turned the page showed they weren't stiff like they should be.
'Interesting...'
Seeing the way the guard watched her and how do she looked, piqued his interest. What would a woman like her be doing in a place like this?
It was clear that Harold hadn't been standing outside of his cell to guard him. He was watching the woman across from them. For what reason though...wasn't entirely clear. What it because she was attractive? Was she a problem? Had she angered or done something to him?
This woman didn't really look like the type to cause trouble, but looks could easily be deceiving. He learned that a long time ago. No one is sent to Arkham for nothing.
Looking at the guard, a mischievous grin spread across his face. Time to push some more buttons...
Leaning in towards one of the holes closest to him, the clown shifted to get as close as he could, licking up his scar.
"Whatcha reading, dollface?" Cocking his head from one side to the other, he stared at the woman waiting for a reaction.
Nothing.
"What's wrong? We're neighbors now, let's get to know each other. Otherwise this place is going to bore someone mad! How about I come over?..." Glancing up to the guard, his grin tugged at the scars in the corner of his mouth seeing the look of disgust. "You can read to me while I lay my head on your pretty little lap. Maybe I'll even let you run your hands through my hair if you're goodddd..."
The woman looked up from her book, glancing in his direction.
'Go ahead, let me see that look of disgust...' That was how everyone reacted as they looked at his scars. That and fear...it always brought him joy to make people feel uncomfortable.
Green eyes ran over his face, looking down at the straight jacket pinning his arms to his sides. Part of him wished they would have taken it off now as she inspected him, running his tongue over the slash mark under his bottom lip. Her face showed nothing, giving him nothing to work with as he raised a brow waiting for that sickening look tat everyone had to cross her features.
All of a sudden, almost out of nowhere, she threw her head back as she laughed. A hand clutched her chest as she squeezed her eyes shut, almost falling over from becoming hysterical.
"AHAHAHAHA!"
Joker grit his teeth at the way she looked and howled at him. What was so damn funny? His scars? His appearance? The straight jacket? They way she looked at him as she laughed hit a nerve, making the vein in his forehead throb. She wasn't suppose to react like that... She was suppose to be horrified that he even talked to her...and she was laughing hysterically.
'Fucking bitch!' This woman was about to take the number one spot on his list, mentally changing the order quickly.
"Dumbass. You better hope she doesn't get a chance to run her hands through that greasy mop on your head, hahaha." Now the guard was laughing at him too. As soon as he got a chance, he'd wipe those smiles off their faces and replace them with one of his own.
Shaking his head to clear it, he had to get back on track.
"What's your name, sweetheart? What's a little thing like you doing in big bad Arkham? Did you steal that book, is that why you're here?"
The woman stopped laughing, wiping the tears from her hysteria on the sleeve of her jumper and went back to reading and paying him no mind.
"Shut the fuck up already and don't talk to her... No fraternizing among patients, keep it up and you can fraternize with my nightstick." The dark haired man narrowed his eyes down at him, gritting his teeth.
"You can't follow a rule and break one in the same sentence. It's against the rulesss." He let his eyes roll back and he rolled his head along his shoulders.
"Just shut up." Turning his back to him, the guard looked back towards the woman in the other cell.
A smile spread across the Joker's face, watching the guard. He gave off way too much information with every word and action. Too easy..
Glancing back at the cell across from his, he bit the inside of his cheek in irritation. That woman bothered him... If only his arms weren't tied down, there was no doubt by tonight he could get out of his cell and wrap his hands around that skinny pale neck of hers.
This may be more entertaining than he intended.