"Death toll is estimated at seventeen," the Joker mumbled quietly to himself, his bright green eyes scanning the front page of the newspaper with twinkling delight… and then delight turned to annoyance. "Seventeen? Seventeen?" He tapped his chin thoughtfully, frowning. "I see… well, then, I'll need to have a chat with Miss An Ass." He tossed aside the paper angrily… and for good measure, shot the thug nearest him with his revolver, sending the goon spinning away from his chair and card game. The other clowns at the table with him jumped only for a moment… before one of them pulled the unfortunate bastard's chips and cash to his side, smirking. The Joker sighed sadly.
Harley, graciously bound to black negligee, saddled over to her pudding sadly and sat down upon his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and grinning widely at him. The Joker always needed a smile.
"Don't be sad, pudding…" she whispered to him. "Look at all the fun stuff we got!" She was, of course, referring to the large piles of toilet seats, LEGO buckets, chocolate pudding snack packs, Tasers, beach balls, radios, televisions, empty fish tanks and bags of cash that lay strewn about the floor of the clubhouse. Scores of the previous night, what with both the police and Nightbrain distracted by their big boogieman. The Joker had ordered a toy store to be robbed… it was the ultimate heist! He now had hundreds of little action figures and an entire train set to play with in his spare time, bigger and better with the Christmas season approaching. But still his heart felt…empty, and Harley's luscious bosom could not satisfy him right now.
Only seventeen people recorded dead. Not much of an impression left following the virus's test run. Why, only three years ago he had put a series of well-placed bombs beneath the Gotham Runners Field. That had taken out more than five hundred people alone, body parts of football players and fans going sky high! Some of the pieces were still being found even to this day, scattered around the city… And yet this measly little "Leviathan" monster had taken out a grand total of… seventeen. Well whoopee, super mother of fucking A, that was just…wow…
He swore loudly, and pushed Harley to the floor, his expression sad. She went down with a whoop and landed on her sweet little bottom… He had to shoot someone else. He considered Harley for a moment, but then decided against it, as he had so many, many times before… He liked her. Not that he was going to let anyone know that… not even himself… shush, now, hush, before you find out your dark secret…
"How goes the game, boys?" he asked in a bored voice, glancing at the poker tournament with narrowed eyes. The three surviving thugs gave him thumbs ups, offering him nods and replies of "Not bad, not bad…"Really?" he asked. "Is that so? Not bad at all… but I like bad. Don't you like bad, Harley?"
"Love it Mista J!" Quinn agreed, bobbing her head up and down quickly, her pigtails flapping this way and that.
"Me too…" He held up a little black remote, and pointed it at the table, pressing a little red button near the top. Immediately, the three goons at their poker table erupted. Literally. They were ripped apart as they exploded from within, body parts flying everywhere and blood splattering the room in a massive flood. The table was decimated, the cards, cash and chips obliterated. Harley shrieked loudly, cartwheeling away from the raining remains… but Joker just sat there, bored, sad, and thoughtful, as blood and guts rained down upon him in a glorious shower of demise. What a day, he thought. He knew what his problem was. He missed Batman. He missed his best friend.
When news had been reported that Batman had gone missing, Joker had, at first, felt gleeful. The Bat had decided to play a game with him. A glorious game of hide and seek. But after months and months, he had decided that the Bat was not, in fact, sneaking around. He really was gone… at least, that man, W, seemed to think so. He and Woodrue both. Stupid tree. Stupid sunglasses worshiping male stripper. What did they know? He had known the Bat for a long time. The Bat was his best friend, and it was the Joker's duty to know everything about him. So he knew that Batman was still alive… but where? Where was he?
The last time he had seen the Batman had been during the assault on Ivy's lair. The Bat had finally remerged from hiding, snatching the poisonous plant vixen and ghosting her away to the ends of the earth… and he had not returned. Joker could remember their last conversation, at Arkham, just before the Bat had gone after Jason Woodrue's home in the northwest part of the country… Woodrue, it had seemed, had done something to Batman… until his sudden reappearance at Ivy's, which had seemingly shocked Woodrue. So Treebeard had failed to murder the rodent.
This was good news. It meant that the games were far from over, and maybe soon, Joker could see his friend again. He looked around at the neon-flashing clubhouse, with clowns, skulls and balloons painted all over the purple walls. He stared around at the hookahs and electric chairs, at the mini-trampolines and pogo-sticks… none of these comforts brought joy to him, because without Batman, they did not feel like rewards after a long day of mischief.
He stood up from his kingly throne chair (which was, in fact, an electric one) and went around to where Harley was trying to get blood and entrails out of her hair. He offered a hand, a smile on his face, and she squealed with delight, leaping into his arms… suddenly forgetting about the bodily mess that stained her. The Joker held her close, and giggled a little.
"My dear… I've decided something."
"What's that, puddin!?"
The Joker kissed her forehead. "We offered Woodrue a pass on his execution when he promised us a repay with these silly little viruses from the Blackwood woman… but, you see, I'm not satisfied with the viruses, m'dear. They aren't much fun…" He put on a whimsical frown, and Harley mimicked him. He began to waltz about the room, swinging her to and fro, and she let out a wonderful little "Wheeeeeeee." "But… there's more. I don't like Blackwood, to be honest. She's rude and pompous and smells like friend fish…"
"Don't you mean fried fish, pud-"
"DON'T CORRECT ME." Rage. Then, merriment again. "Anywho… she's a freak. I don't like freaks." He kicked aside a pile of intestines as he said it. "She's not go my interests at heart, and neither does Groot… I think it's time to renegotiate things with them both. And by renegotiate, I mean, really make a difference…"
"How we gonna do it, sweetie?" Harley batted her eyelashes.
The Joker cackled now. "Dear little British fish and chips made a fatal miscalculation. Her driver, Manhattan…" He began to waltz again. "The man's quite persuasive when fed enough drink… or maybe it was those damnable interrogation drugs from Arkham… either way, do you know what he gave me?"
Harley wanted to know. So Joker told her. "He gave me her hotel room arrangements… and in turn, I placed a few eyes in her bedroom…" And the Joker proceeded to tell her about the most amazing of circumstances. Ordering pizza… an adventure! Opening a bottle of wine… an epic! Turning on the television… honorable! And a fight with a certain little pussycat… Not so much exciting as ordering pizza, but passable. Harley was intrigued by the Joker's account. "Seems like Catwoman's been brought to the pound… but wouldn't you know? Her assistant is coming into Gotham City. Pretty little eggroll she was! Would it not be a shame if something were to… happen to little miss assistant, whose supposed antibodies are crucial to their work on the sexy vegetable…?"
"You mean kidnap?" Harley's eyes narrowed with delight. "Clownin around, maybe?"
"We'll see… we'll see… I have eyes on the airport. I have eyes on the boats. The cat, unfortunately, interrupted business… but I have something in my pocket to ensure that Miss Blackwood gives me a more suitable payment." He walked over towards a nearby dumpster, Harley still in his hold, cooing and looking excited about the Joker's daring plan. The Joker was giggling madly to himself. "The beastie is still alive, at least… running about, causing trouble."
And he was right. The great beast had survived Nightwing's attack upon its body, diving into the Gotham River and vanishing to who knew where… and apparently, it had left the boy in rough shape, according to eyewitness reports. Maybe Anassa did have something going on for her… she just needed some extra encouragement. Like, say, an abducted, blue-haired beauty and the source of a better tomorrow for one Lasetta Rilee…
"Are we going to go play today, pudding?" Harley sighed provocatively, scratching his chin in a suggestive manner. The Joker nodded.
"Of course, m'dear!" And he threw her into the dumpster, slamming the lid shut and locking it with a fine little metal chain indeed. He ignored her desperate pleas, positively tap-dancing away as he giggled uncontrollably, putting together a happy, hopping plot for murder, mischief, and some new shoes… it was definitely time to get new shoes…
Luna Tyke was special, as Anassa herself had acknowledged many times before. But she was special in subtle ways, and even Luna herself acknowledged that much. She stepped out onto the landing ramp at Moriarty Field, scanning the distant skyline of the metropolis known as Gotham City with deep interest, her lavender contacts spinning about in her eyes. Spinning, because they were cameras, and had a zooming capability at X5550- 5.6 Milliard Pixels. A gift from Anassa, and in Luna's color, too!
She did not disembark alone from the private jet. She walked hand in hand with a short man of twenty-four. He was a darkly skinned man in a black business suit, his flaming red hair illuminated in a phoenix-like fashion as the midday sun hit him. He shielded his face behind white mirrored sunshades, and carried a cane in hand. This cane, this suit, and these glasses all told the baggage handlers one thing: This rich prick is going to get mugged the moment he reaches the first street. But that was none of their concern.
Luna and this man said nothing to the handlers as they disembarked. Luna's assistant, O'Ryan, would handle things from here. It was Luna's job to head immediately for Anassa's new hotel arrangements: or, rather, the lab base at the old observatory, where she been moved to following the attack from the crazy… Catlady? Cat? Catwoman? Something like that… honestly she had already forgotten about the crazy woman in the cat suit. Things like that happened every day in Gotham, she had been told, and in her line of work, it seemed normal at best. After all, her work regularly involved abomination of their own sort. And she was ready should anyone rise to make a move on her or her lover… She was always prepared.
And so again, Luna Tyke was special. She did have the appropriate means to help Miss Anassa with her work on the Lasetta creature. It was, after all, one of the primary reasons that Anassa had given Luna such a high-ranking position at Windstar. Antibodies like Luna's were a one in seventeen million case, she had been informed… a reason that Anassa had worked so hard to track Luna down and hire her into the company. And that had been just fine with Luna. She was a genius, after all, and deserved an opportunity like this.
"Gotham stinking City," she remarked as she stepped through customs and allowed the scanners to read her body. She watched as the screen before illuminated her skeletal system… and the little life growing inside of her. She rubbed her belly fondly as she looked as the screen. A free ultrasound, a free chance to see the baby squirming about inside. It made her entry into one of America's most dangerous cities that much more tolerable. Little Celeste was seven months now… before too much longer, Luna would be a mother.
The status read No Weapons Found. She smiled. Silly boys. She would not carry weapons on her that could be detected so easily. She did, however, see a few security guards moving in with their magic wands… She stepped forward and allowed them to probe her. Again, she came up clean. Hmm… security wasn't supposed to be this tight? Did Manhattan not make the bribe? She had been assured that airport security would not bother her or Jeremy like this upon their arrival… something was wrong. And where was Manhattan, anyway? She scanned the crowd of people bustling about, waving their signs around with names upon them… Manhattan was nowhere to be seen.
"Problem?" Jeremy Willows stepped forward now, twiddling his black cane in hand. He spoke with a heavy Ukraine accent, a memoir of his treasured homeland. Luna nodded.
"Manhattan's not here yet." She walked briskly across the shining linoleum, her black heels singing rhythmically a song of pure delight. People stared around at her as she passed. Long, beautiful blue hair and lips were not an unusual sight in Gotham City… but even for a pregnant woman at seven months, Luna knew that she had the kind of body that men desired. In all honesty, her dark purple bodycon was not helping matters. Jeremy glared around at those who stared, rapping his cane irritably against the floor.
"Get over it," she warned him in a direct, firm voice. Now was not the time for jealousy. "Let's find Manhattan." The cellphone practically teleported into her hand. Speed wad everything at Windstar. She connected to Manhattan at once, leaning against a nearby wall and tapping her foot impatiently…
"Hello?" Ah, finally. Manhattan sounded tired.
"Manhattan, where exactly are you?" she demanded, checking the time on the phone. She was informed that he would be there exactly when they had arrived. "We're standing in the middle of the terminal, and you're nowhere in sight."
"Oh, yes… please do forgive me, Miss Luna… I'm so, so sorry for not being there. Actually, I could not be there because I—" He paused. Luna frowned deeper. What was going on? Was he drunk or something? He came back on after a moment. "There's a car- there's a car—MISS LUNA, GET OUT OF THERE!" He was suddenly screaming, his voice frantic and shaky, and Luna jumped. "THEY'RE GOING TO KIDNAP YOU! DON'T TRUST ANYONE-" It was the last thing she heard before the line disconnected. She stood there, breathing hard, wild-eyed and fearful. What…the hell had that been about? She looked around at Jeremy, who was giving her a questioning look.
"Move, now!" She led him away from the wall, glancing at the entry doors in the distance. There were many limousines and other cars parked there, waiting for passengers. She did not know which one was supposed to be Manhattan's… but was Manhattan even…?
She pulled Jeremy into an alcove for one of the nearby bathrooms, and explained what had happened over the phone at once. Even though his mirrored shades hid his eyes, she could sense his anger and concern within them. He got this look, sometimes…
"We should call Miss Anassa directly," Jeremy insisted, pulling out his own phone. "Not with yours. Chances are, whoever has Manhattan will have used your phone call to jam signal. Let me try."
But she snatched the phone away from him and immediately punched in Anassa's number. "Stand watch!" she snapped, pointing at the terminal. People were giving them funny looks. They must look pretty suspicious, moving quickly and sneaking about in alcoves. Jeremy nodded, frustrated, and kept an eye out for anything and everything.
The phone rang and rang, and Luna swore loudly, demanding that her superior answer at once. It went straight to voicemail. "This is Blackwood. Leave it here and I'll consider your message with care." Beep. "Niz!" Luna swore out of frustration, kicking the wall hard. "Anassa, please pick up your phone. I'll be calling every two minutes until you do so. We're in danger at the airport. Manhattan's been taken by someone and whoever took him is after Jeremy and me. We are not sure which vehicles to trust. In the airport now. Please contact me."
She could say nothing more. A blast of gunfire interrupted her next thoughts. People screamed all over the terminal as machine gun fire rained into the building, shattering glass and wounding several people standing near the entry way. From their little alcove, they saw masked men running into the terminal… and by masks, she saw, they were clown-based. Happy, smiling, bouncy clown faces, colorful and whimsical.
"Joker!" she heard someone in the distance scream. "It's Joker!"
Joker? Now that was a name that she knew well. Everyone in the world knew about the Joker… but was he not allied with Anassa? Maybe… maybe the Joker was here to pick her and Jeremy up. After all, it made sense. Maybe he had sent some of his goons to get her. She decided to go out and ask them. The Joker would not dare lay a finger on an ally… especially one under the service of someone as dangerous as Anassa Wesker…
Luna's arrogance did not bode well for her. The moment she stepped into view, three of the clowns accosted her, surrounding both her and Jeremy with their AK's aimed. Jeremy stepped in front of Luna, pointing his cane at one of them. The clowns began to laugh, giggling as they beheld the man who had brought a cane to a gunfight… that was, until the end of the cane exploded, and so did the nearest of the thugs. At least, his belly did. The clown went flying backwards, and that was when the other two clowns stopped laughing, startled by the sudden attack… Jeremy did not waste any time. He moved so quickly, first aiming his cane at the left clown's head. The head vanished into its bloody destruction. His friend went down just as fast.
"Well done?" Luna's voice shook as she asked her praise. After all… weren't these men on her side? Jeremy yanked her away and pulled her towards the front doors, leaving the wounded where they lay… other clowns had moved into the terminal, and they had not yet spotted Luna and Jeremy…
But what they found outside made Jeremy immediately regret his frantic escape. There were seven other clowns waiting for them near the limousines, all of them aiming automatics right at the two. Security guards lay dead all around the clowns, blown away so easily… Something was seriously wrong here. Luna, infuriated, stepped forward, her eyes wide and angry.
"Who put you up to this!?" she demanded. "Do you know who I am?"
"The eggroll!" one of the clowns near the back exclaimed. This one did a little merry dance forward, and whipped off his clown mask to reveal… a clown mask. But no… that wasn't a mask! That was his face! Snow white skin and grotesque, stretched out mouth, his lips ruby red, his hair the color of the grass around them… the Joker leered at Luna with an almost hungry glare. Luna's heart was racing hard. From behind them, the clowns who had charged into the airport were running back towards the doors, having spotted the two of them… They were trapped.
The Joker skipped merrily towards her, brandishing something in his hand that she saw was not an automatic, but instead grenade. He spun about in the air, landing before her with a grin.
"Welcome to Gotham City, fair maiden," he exclaimed, grabbing her by the chin with one of his gloved hands. Jeremy poked the end of the cane into the Joker's side.
"Release her!" he spat, his hands quivering with anger. Not fear. Anger. The Joker tilted his head to consider Jeremy.
"Now, now, son…" He tutted loudly. Guns were on Jeremy from either side. "She deserves better."
"Jeremy, come off of him." Luna's voice shook but she held her ground. She was not going to let this clown terrify her. Jeremy did not listen, however. He kept his cane securely on the clown. "Mr. Joker, I asked you if you know who I am."
"Of course, rice ball, of course," the clown said quietly, sniffing the air about her. She felt repulsed. "You're the little minx what with the special antibodies of course."
Luna was happy. So then the Joker was really on their side, and he was just putting on a little show… that required dead guards? But Manhattan…
"Are you here to bring me to Anassa?" she demanded. In the distance, police sirens could be heard. The clowns around them were moving uneasily. "We received a call from her driver, a man named Manhattan. Have you heard from him?"
The Joker tutted again, looking sad. "Now, now… let's not talk about boriinngg things. Let's talk about you, m'dear! You… and what you're worth to me?"
Luna's eyes narrowed. What?
He answered the question that her eyes asked. "Consider yourself my hostage," he hissed, giggling. "That is, until I get what I want!"
Her eyes widened. "Who do you think you are?" she demanded. Could she kill him, right here? She had a way of doing it… but could she move fast enough? "You're playing with serious fire, clown," she whispered, shaking her head in disgust. "I recommend you release me now..." She glanced around at Jeremy, who was still holding the Joker at his mercy… just as Joker held her at his. If either of them made a move, the other clowns would spray bullets. But something would be done soon. The police sirens were getting closer and the security guards inside of the airport would be moving in…
"What do you want from me!?"
The Joker sniffed loudly. "We'll see, in time, won't we?" And he reached down with his mouth, bit the pin out of the grenade, and suddenly tossed it a few feet behind Luna, laughing maniacally as he did. Jeremy panicked. The clowns panicked. Everyone scattered, Joker pulling Luna away at once. Now, Luna thought, I have to do it now!
She moved quickly, thrusting up an arm as he dragged her across the pavement, her fake, blue nails going for his neck. One scratch… one scratch and the nerve toxin would take effect. Anassa had warned her that in Gotham City, you needed to have a weapon on you at all times. This was one weapon that the guards at the airport would not be able to detect. But before she could get close to him, the explosion sent them both flying, the Joker hysterically laughing as fire burst forward and shrapnel flew in every direction…
From the greenhouse at the observatory, Anassa was teaching Lasetta how to dance like a "beautiful ballerina." Lasetta spun about, waving her arms to and fro as she tried to balance on one foot, a speaker nearby playing "Waltz of the Flowers," Tchaikovsky's river of dreams dancing about in her ears with such grace, such wonder… She still preferred to go about naked, even though Anassa had purchased for her the most beautiful green dress…
"This is so much fun!" Lasetta cried, giggling excitedly as she watched Anassa spin about through the air, so very, very high up… and in her excitement, vines crashed through the earth, twisting about Lasetta's limbs and allowing her flight across the garden. Anassa controlled her momentum carefully, feeling the slight sting as the spores threatened to come close. Lasetta still had not gotten the concept of "you must no approach me." But their merriment was bliss, her understand wondrous and free-spirited as she became the air, the music so delightful to every sense of the body. Flowers were exploding as she soared over like a bird, growing so beautifully large. Her mirth made them strong.
Oh how she had improved. Over the course of three weeks, Lasetta was already comprehending far more things than she ever had. Her treatments were improving. Every time she was wheeled away, down into the cold, cold surgery rooms, her body put up less resistance to the Aterium shots. Her brain was beginning to move faster and faster, allowing her to pick up on new sounds, words, and even basic mathematics. Not to mention art! Oh, how she loved art! Anassa had begun to teach her drawing, from the basics of shape to the complexities of shading… And Lasetta was learning quickly. Anassa theorized that, by the end of their second month together, the girl may very well have the mentality of a teenager…perhaps more. It was almost as if Lasetta's body yearned to grow now. For now, her mentality was reminiscent of a five to six year old. Possibly seven. Her speech patterns were clearer, more concise, even, but still comprehensive to her meanings.
And all the while, Anassa took extracts from her body, studying the plant matter that had recreated her, strengthening it different cellular enhancements until the extracts were impervious against the strongest of hazards, like fire and ice. She wondered if, in time, Lasetta would be ready to undergo full metamorphosis into a completely invulnerable being: the next stage of her own evolution, she hoped. Lasetta was the answer to so many things, and she believed that Progenitor, as powerful as it made her and Albert, was insignificant next to the amount of control, immunity and mental enhancements that Lasetta was endowed with. Woodrue's work had truly paid off, in the long run. He had been helped, of course, during the earliest stages of his research. That sister of his… and then Pamela Isley…
Anassa felt the time coming soon when Pamela Isley would have to be brought to the facility. She wanted to experiment on Isley, too. Isley's biology and Lasetta's were very, very similar, with differences in special places… and she felt that Isley could help contribute to perfecting Lasetta's body in the long run. After all, she was partly responsible for Lasetta's rebirth. Without her, Woodrue would never have gone as far as he had… at least not as quickly.
As Lasetta danced about, spinning through the air as her hero, Anassa, had, Anassa grinned. This was a wondrous moment indeed! If only she had brought her cell phone with her into the garden. But it was downstairs, in her bedroom… Anassa, of course, had no urgent reason to believe that the phone was pivotal in this moment.
This day is a fine one indeed.