SwordStitcher-He only shuts up because I taped his mouth shut once. We were sharing a getaway car and he wouldn't shut up about the stains on the seats.What? I have a religious background. It was a perfectly valid excuse.
Voodoo-Mutant-Child-NURSE Joker? I don't want that mental image. Why did you do that? My eyes will never be clean! How could you do this to me? It could be worse. You've been fairly sheltered. I've seen things. I don't want to know.
Jasmine Scarthing-More of a tantrum, really. It was not! Of course not, love. I am the Master of Fear! I do not throw lowly 'tantrums'! Then what was that? Retaliation for making me get up on the holiday I hate the most. It was a tantrum.
KittyComeHere-I am not cute! People cower before me! I have killed people! I killed my own great-grandmother! And you panic if I get a paper cut. I do not panic. It's okay, love. I don't! Of course you don't. That's right.
Just-Me-and-My-Brain-The Arkham orderlies resent doing anything besides giving us sedatives. They 'forgot' to hard-boil the eggs. We haven't had an egg hunt since. I am not at all sorry. I am. You're never there. Yeah, but still.
So help him, when he gets his hands on that little slip of a thing…
No matter. There's nowhere to run and very few places to hide. He'll find her.
The narrow upstairs hallway is lined with doors. All of them thus far have been dusty and unwilling to open. He never comes up to this part of the lair-there's no point. But now he has to check every blasted floor for his little escapee. How very irritating.
It's cold up here. It may make him a rather frightening figure, but burlap is not at all insulating.
He rubs his hands together and strolls towards a door at the end of the hall. He knows she's up here. He'll find her, make no mistake.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are."
She doesn't answer. Humph. The least she could do is play along.
This door? Could be. It looks a little less grimy than the others.
He flings it open and is greeted with a shower of dust. Damn. Wrong room.
He shakes himself off and resumes his stroll down the hallway. There's a soft creaking coming from up ahead.
Well, well, what has he here? Not as quiet as she'd like to be, he's sure. And the door's ajar. What a shame.
His fingers fold around the knob and he pushes the door open, whistling the tune to 'London Bridge'. The room is empty save for an old bed and a crumbling suitcase. What a pity.
She's under the bed, he's sure of that. He'll just reach under here and drag her out…
He pulls her out and drops her on the dusty bed, frowning.
"Where is it, what have you done with it?"
"Done with what?"
"You know what." He crosses his arms and glares at her. "My mask. Where. Is. It."
Kitty grins at him and shrugs.
"It was grimy. It needed a wash. You may have it back after I get it sparkling clean."
"It's burlap! It doesn't get sparkling clean!"
"It has a giant bloodstain on the eye!"
"It adds character!"
She groans and rubs her face.
"Everything else you touch had better be sterile, but when it comes to that grimy mask…"
"Where. Is. It."
'I'm not telling."
He'll make her tell if it's the last thing he does!
"Kitty…"
"You have to catch me first."
What is she…
She streaks past him and he hears her sprinting down the hall, no doubt to hide his precious mask once again. God dammit.
He turns around to go after her with a low groan. One of these days, so help him…
"Kitty! I need it to work!"
"Never!"
They'll be at this all day.