•Agents of Chaos•
•(Loki's Christmas with the Clown)•
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Thought I'd put a festive twist on these bad boys! ;D
Merry Christmas, guys! X
•Loki's Christmas with the Clown•
"On the twelfth day of Christmas, my shrink hath sent to me:
Twelve vigilantes,
Eleven butchered doctors,
Ten detonators,
Nine male neurotics,
Eight loony ladies,
Seven serial killers,
Six shitty, ink-blots,
Five corrosive acids,
Four tranquillisers,
Three severed heads,
Two crazy coots,
And a butt-hurt deity!"
The Joker concluded his festive - and, rather, customised - serenade with a flourish of exaggerated jazz hands. He flashed the garish grin of a madman, exposing two martial rows of plaque-coated teeth.
Loki remained stoic - pointed nose stuck in yet, another book - expression completely unamused.
The Joker sighed, defeatedly and flopped, dramatically onto the couch. The God flinched at the impact.
"Whatcha reading?"
The Joker craned his neck, inquisitively, to view the yellowed pages. Sensing the clown was not going to cease his incessant badgering, Loki slammed the book shut with haughty impatience.
"I was reading 'A Christmas Carol'... before I was rudely interrupted; consider it research. I am attempting to comprehend the... oddities your Midgardian customs."
He frowned and flung the book carelessly onto the coffee table. The Joker smirked; Loki became hilariously irritable, when he did not understand something... and irritating him, further, was just too much fun to resist.
"And how's that going, sweetums?"
Loki rolled his eyes, wearily:
"Well, so far I've deducted that your 'festive season' merely consists of spirits antagonising cynical octogenarians."
Loki shifted his position to glare at the clown, with acidity:
"That has not happened, yet."
"Yes it has!" The Joker chimed, playfully, an impish giggle rising in his throat. He smirked toward Loki's enquiring expression and responded with:
"I am the Ghost of Christmas Cheer!"
He cackled manically, waggling his spindly fingers - directly in front of the God's face, causing Loki to cross his eyes - to communicate a sense of magic. Loki slapped his hands away and huffed childishly, folding his lanky arms and sinking deeper into the cushions.
"Jesus, no need to be a Scrooge!" The clown snapped, bitterly, as he mimicked Loki's sullen position.
Suddenly, his sooty eyes widened when he spied Loki's deft fingers reaching for an abandoned wine bottle. He swiftly whipped a callous hand around a dainty wrist:
"No way, princess; when you're drunk, you kinda turn into the Ghost of Christmas Queer. I mean, you're cute but I don't do fluffy stuff."
(No, the Joker favoured relationships and didn't really involve... talking. He preferred communicating via more... physical methods. Unfortunately, for him the idea repulsed Loki.)
The clown chuckled, as he re-placed Loki's hand to it's original position. Loki, merely, appeared horrified toward the clown's verbal emasculation. He stuttered, clumsily:
"What? I don't— I mean, I am not— What happened last time?"
Oh, he really should've asked that.
The clown stretched his lips, menacingly, moulding his scars into odd protrusions and indentations. He bared his yellowed teeth, ominously, to a petrified-looking Loki:
"You told me you loved me."
The Joker watched in delight, as Loki's alabaster countenance contorted into a feverish shade of green, he clutched his stomach in a feeble attempt to combat the brutal wave of nausea.
"I did what?"
"Anyway, no matter!"
The Joker chirped cheerfully, as he gave Loki a hearty smack on the back, which promptly sent the God's slight form flying forward from the sunken coach, toppling onto the rotting floorboards.
"Tinsel Time!"
The Joker sprung upwards with manic exuberance and all-but-danced his way toward a mysterious cardboard box which sat, sadly, on the window sill; it appeared quite frayed and compressed, as if it's owner was not very kind to it.
Loki could empathise.
However, as the Joker revealed the glorious contents of the box, Loki's eyes widened in wonder; the clown happily enveloped himself in lengths of strange, shimmering... rope? He gasped, slightly, as the Joker revealed more strands of the curious material: gleaming gold, purist purple - which, of course, was promptly wrapped around the clown's neck - rich red and - to Loki's delight - a gorgeous green.
"Here, Oscar..." - Joker chirped, as he flung the sparkling strand, carelessly, in Loki's direction - "...have this one; it'll suit you."
"Oscar?" Loki questioned, as he began to study his new toy, with child-like fascination.
"It's a 'Sesame Street' reference: grumpy, green guy." Joker provided, dryly; again, forgetting how little Loki knew about this heap of rock. However, Loki blatantly ignored him, as his attention was still fixated on the gorgeous glints of the green 'garment'.
"It's tinsel, by the way." The clown informed him, politely. He couldn't conceal his smile, as he watched Loki's eyes sparkle in a manner akin to the tinsel itself; he was so, cripplingly incredulous. The Joker thought it quite adorable, actually.
"What is its purpose?" Loki breathed, eyes never leaving his festive prize. His deft fingers wafting amongst the highlights of the tinsel, as if believing them to be the flames of a candle.
"Uh, you hang 'em on a tree or some shit... but I didn't have one." He bowed his head, grease-covered hair curtaining his garish facade. "Sorry 'bout that."
"It's quite alright." Loki replied, as he swung the extensive strand of tinsel around his thin neck, akin to the manner of which he wore his collection of impressive scarves.
"I'd much prefer to wear it as a rather opulent accessory." He added with an air of pride.
"You look hot, honey." Sniped the Joker with a sarcastic smirk. The expected retort was instant:
"You look equally outrageous." Loki snapped, indignantly; gesturing toward the clown's own festive neck-piece.
"Well, how about we top it off with these?"
The Joker darted his hand into the depth of the box and produced a pair of ostentatious bobbles; naturally they were a deep purple in colour. He strung the thin strings around his powered ears and the decorations appeared obscene, bulbous earrings. He batted his eye-lashes, playfully:
"What d'ya think?"
Loki allowed himself a giggle; he would not admit it - for fear of inflating the clown's insufferable ego - but he found the clown rather amusing, sometimes. He could see why Midgardians deemed him 'The Joker', anyway.
"There should be some green ones in there, if ya want any." The clown offered with a wink.
Loki rolled his eyes but submitted to rummaging amongst the decorations in pursuit of his own... interpretive jewellery. He beamed impishly, as he mimicked his partners actions; after which, he beamed impishly, as he sported his festive earrings with coy pride.
They both looked ridiculous.
"Well, now we're all dressed up..." - clown kicked the box dismissively, to the side and adopted a smile which, practically, bled mischief - "...we need somewhere to go." He offered the God his arm, as he flung the tinsel over his shoulder, with a theatrical flourish.
Loki raised a quizzical eyebrow but took the clowns arm, anyway. He was curious as to what havoc the clown had in mind... Well, he was the God of Mischief, after all.
"How 'bout we burn down a Christmas tree?" The clown chimed eerily, his voice dropped with desire for destruction. Then his joy faded, as he added with dismay:
"Damn it, I used up the last of the gasoline." He mimicked the stance and expression of an eight year old child that'd just been told Santa wasn't real. Loki was surprised when he felt a small spark of pity for the clown: how odd.
"I could assist with the... pyrotechnics." The God suggested, calmly. However, a smile - which screamed malice - teased with his pale, pink lips.
"Really?" The Joker's bowed head snapped upward, in an instant. Eyes blazing with manic hope.
It was Loki's turn to roll his eyes toward the Joker's lack of knowledge. He cleared his throat, before he announced:
"I have, also, been branded as the God of Fire, Master Joker."
"No-fucking-way!" The Joker all-but-squealed with delight, trapping the God's arm in a vice-like grip. "Why didn't you say so, before?"
Loki gave a weak smile; a warm pool of pride formed in his stomach, he felt content - and almost flattered - that someone could show such vibrant interest in him. Maybe, the clown wasn't so bad, after all.
The two chuckled, like a pair of drunkards, as they neared the door, which lead to the rancid streets of Gotham City.
"Are you aware of what I require for such a stunt clown?"
The Joker merely stared, inquiringly. His blackened eyes then gleamed with astounded delight, as Loki began to sing:
"Four incantations,
Three brief spells,
Two crazy coots,
And a psychotic clown for a friend!"
The two simultaneously burst into a desperate fits of gleeful laughter, as they strode with pride form the rotted doorway; minds - at one - attuned to blissful mischief and malice, as they set out to paint the town a Santa-Claus-red, on that fateful Christmas Eve.
Well, they aren't called 'Agents of Chaos' for nothing, are they?