Clowning Around
Clowning Around.
The last flick of the purple suit slipped around the corner ahead of her in the darkness. They were sneaking into yet another building, a simple entrance and a magnificent exit, to bring another smile to his face and a flutter to her heart. She was the second in their procession, a group of four henchmen behind her, and her love ahead, leading the way into the wondrous heist he had painstakingly planned and corrected for what many would say was no sane reason, but she and her lover would call fun. Many said they saw it as a sport, recreational; something they did simply because they could. For him, it was an obsession. For her, it was simply to please him.
A frown creased his brow for only a moment as Harley Quinn and his currently favoured henchmen caught up. There was a block up ahead, an unpredicted problem, though in the moment he had frowned it became clear only a slight amendment to his plan was needed. He pulled out a tampered bomb; one filled with Joker-toxin, and threw it toward the extra set of guards on the back doors. These doors were normally clear, everyone knew that, just as everyone knew that there was no way in through them; only out. This was the reason he knew sneaking in would be easily done - according to his ego, only he was smart enough to find a way in through those doors.
The moment the smoke had cleared he, Harley and the four other's behind them made it to the back door. The space that was once occupied by window was now covered in two inches of steel, welded in place. The Joker hardly even looked at them, signalling to his henchmen to place his newest chemical compound all around the edges. It was a mixture of acids and a lot of chemicals he didn't care to tell anyone. It was completed deadly when ingested, even if a tiny drop made it through the smallest of cuts, but he and Harley had made sure none of the group could even think it possible. He backed up to the level Harley was on, glancing in her direction and allowing his gaze to linger for longer than he did anyone else. It was an action Harley never missed, no matter how slyly he thought he'd done it. She knew he looked at the others as though they were nothing more than the piece of steel barring their way into the building. It was this that kept her around; through all the fighting and threats - through everything, it was this tiny little glance that kept her hanging on.
The steel crashed to the ground, a crack forming in the concrete around the area it had hit and the four henchmen stood back behind the pair they feared more than they feared the Batman himself. The ever-present grin on his face inched higher and he looked at Harley, signalling her to carry out her part of their plan.
The black and red fabric allowed her to move with ease, hardly noticing that she had to climb up through the window to allow the five men outside entrance to the building. The Joker watched her move – the simple elegance of everything she did astounded him. While his outer behaviour showed no affection toward anyone, the one stint he had gone without her a year before had shown him his need for her; the simple way a day or two without her had caused him pain he couldn’t bear to admit, the pain that would ruin his psychotic reputation without a second thought and leave the pair of them open to attack. The way he saw it, if everybody deemed him heartless, incapable of any emotion at all, then she was safe when she couldn’t be by his side – from the doctors of Arkham, to the police, all the way to Batman himself. If they believed what he wanted them to believe, then there was no way to touch either of them.
The doors creaked through the silent air, Harley appearing with a grin on her face that almost matched her lovers’, though the five men merely rushed through to carry on to the next part of their plan, to the heist and the best gate-crashing of a party the city had ever seen – the gate-crashing of Bruce Wayne’s birthday party. It was the kind of unnecessary extravagance that the Joker couldn’t bear to see without ruining beyond repair; without tarring the entire event beyond recognition. The way he saw it, this party had been screaming for him to crash it, from the guests to the meticulous planning that had gone into it. Every body the criminals of Gotham despised would be in that room tonight, in the safest building in the entire city, and the Joker felt this irony was more than adequate. He knew that somewhere in this room, his arch nemesis would be hidden, using his daily mask of whatever millionaire Gotham could scar into turning to become a vigilante, though he had no idea that this man was the host of the party he was about to crash.
The cold, harsh laughter pierced the air as the lights flew out, a henchman having taken out the lighting supervisor and now working on focussing the spotlight upon the door in which his boss had just entered through. The laughter alone would have been enough for half of the guests to faint with terror, it was the same laughter that had caused the deaths of many citizens before them and it was well known in the city, the most known by a long shot. Nobody else in the world could have a laugh that cold, that uncaring and that humourless – the only man dead enough was the Joker himself. He was the one man in the entire world you could never locate; never understand what trauma had caused this path, this almost daily rampage, and all the mocking disappearing acts from the most secure mental asylum in the country. The light shone down upon him, revealing the wide, evil grin that everyone in the room feared was there for them.
“Where’s the birthday boy?” The Joker asked, cackling. Every person in the room let out a breath. Commissioner Gordon turned to face the man himself, almost gasping when he saw the space Bruce had previously occupied completely empty. “Come on, Brucey, don’t hold out on me!” This time, not a soul moved. Not one person on the entire guest list moved a muscle, all wondering where the mighty Bruce Wayne had disappeared to and how.
Another cackle ripped from the Clown Prince of Crime’s throat, tearing across the room and instilling another shot of fear into the people in the room. Batman lay somewhere in the back of their minds, in their subconscious prayers, but the rest was devoted to the super-criminals blocking their way out. While the location had been chosen as the safest in the city, the lack of exits had now been turned upon them all and there was no escape without the Dark Knight. No way out alive.
The blow to the head caused a slight stumble. The black rubber suit that blocked his line of sight causing to believe he had gone blind for a second before he realised his biggest enemy had finally appeared; exactly as planned. The light that had shone down upon the Joker only moments before had been turned off, replaced instead by the main lights as Robin took out the henchman in control of lighting. A growl rolled from the Joker's throat as he realised this, launching into an attack on Batman and leaving Robin to Harley.
It didn't even take two minutes after Bruce Wayne's guests had all fled the scene for a screech to carry across the room; a heart-wrenching cry that the Joker would be forced to mock the moment they were safe - the moment she was safe. The fist that collided with his face at that moment was sure to leave a bruise, but by now he knew his plan had failed, that any chance of wreaking havoc had been lost the moment the guests had escaped and now was the time to grab Harley and run. The action was quick; one punch to the jaw saw Batman stagger enough to succumb to the Joker's gas-filled flower. The coughing caused Robin to lose concentration in his fight with Harley, allowing enough time for her to hit him over the head, knocking him unconscious.
"Move!" The Joker hissed, fleeing toward the door with his lover as Batman started to recover from the gas. They went out the way the came in, thankfully empty of any police as of yet, but knowing fine well it would be flooded if they didn't get a move on. He threw himself into the back of the car they had come in, the top still down from every other time they had done this, and Harley flung herself into the driver's seat, starting the car almost instantly.
The pair felt a rush as they sped away from the building. This was his addiction and hers. The thrill of the chase after a heist, knowing Batman could be behind them at any moment, ready to send them back to Arkham Asylum if they made one mistake. It caused his heart to beat as fast as hers did when he cackled. This chase had happened many times before, and neither of the pair grew sick of it.
For him, it was an obsession. For her, it was simply to please him.
A frown creased his brow for only a moment as Harley Quinn and his currently favoured henchmen caught up. There was a block up ahead, an unpredicted problem, though in the moment he had frowned it became clear only a slight amendment to his plan was needed. He pulled out a tampered bomb; one filled with Joker-toxin, and threw it toward the extra set of guards on the back doors. These doors were normally clear, everyone knew that, just as everyone knew that there was no way in through them; only out. This was the reason he knew sneaking in would be easily done - according to his ego, only he was smart enough to find a way in through those doors.
The moment the smoke had cleared he, Harley and the four other's behind them made it to the back door. The space that was once occupied by window was now covered in two inches of steel, welded in place. The Joker hardly even looked at them, signalling to his henchmen to place his newest chemical compound all around the edges. It was a mixture of acids and a lot of chemicals he didn't care to tell anyone. It was completed deadly when ingested, even if a tiny drop made it through the smallest of cuts, but he and Harley had made sure none of the group could even think it possible. He backed up to the level Harley was on, glancing in her direction and allowing his gaze to linger for longer than he did anyone else. It was an action Harley never missed, no matter how slyly he thought he'd done it. She knew he looked at the others as though they were nothing more than the piece of steel barring their way into the building. It was this that kept her around; through all the fighting and threats - through everything, it was this tiny little glance that kept her hanging on.
The steel crashed to the ground, a crack forming in the concrete around the area it had hit and the four henchmen stood back behind the pair they feared more than they feared the Batman himself. The ever-present grin on his face inched higher and he looked at Harley, signalling her to carry out her part of their plan.
The black and red fabric allowed her to move with ease, hardly noticing that she had to climb up through the window to allow the five men outside entrance to the building. The Joker watched her move – the simple elegance of everything she did astounded him. While his outer behaviour showed no affection toward anyone, the one stint he had gone without her a year before had shown him his need for her; the simple way a day or two without her had caused him pain he couldn’t bear to admit, the pain that would ruin his psychotic reputation without a second thought and leave the pair of them open to attack. The way he saw it, if everybody deemed him heartless, incapable of any emotion at all, then she was safe when she couldn’t be by his side – from the doctors of Arkham, to the police, all the way to Batman himself. If they believed what he wanted them to believe, then there was no way to touch either of them.
The doors creaked through the silent air, Harley appearing with a grin on her face that almost matched her lovers’, though the five men merely rushed through to carry on to the next part of their plan, to the heist and the best gate-crashing of a party the city had ever seen – the gate-crashing of Bruce Wayne’s birthday party. It was the kind of unnecessary extravagance that the Joker couldn’t bear to see without ruining beyond repair; without tarring the entire event beyond recognition. The way he saw it, this party had been screaming for him to crash it, from the guests to the meticulous planning that had gone into it. Every body the criminals of Gotham despised would be in that room tonight, in the safest building in the entire city, and the Joker felt this irony was more than adequate. He knew that somewhere in this room, his arch nemesis would be hidden, using his daily mask of whatever millionaire Gotham could scar into turning to become a vigilante, though he had no idea that this man was the host of the party he was about to crash.
The cold, harsh laughter pierced the air as the lights flew out, a henchman having taken out the lighting supervisor and now working on focussing the spotlight upon the door in which his boss had just entered through. The laughter alone would have been enough for half of the guests to faint with terror, it was the same laughter that had caused the deaths of many citizens before them and it was well known in the city, the most known by a long shot. Nobody else in the world could have a laugh that cold, that uncaring and that humourless – the only man dead enough was the Joker himself. He was the one man in the entire world you could never locate; never understand what trauma had caused this path, this almost daily rampage, and all the mocking disappearing acts from the most secure mental asylum in the country. The light shone down upon him, revealing the wide, evil grin that everyone in the room feared was there for them.
“Where’s the birthday boy?” The Joker asked, cackling. Every person in the room let out a breath. Commissioner Gordon turned to face the man himself, almost gasping when he saw the space Bruce had previously occupied completely empty. “Come on, Brucey, don’t hold out on me!” This time, not a soul moved. Not one person on the entire guest list moved a muscle, all wondering where the mighty Bruce Wayne had disappeared to and how.
Another cackle ripped from the Clown Prince of Crime’s throat, tearing across the room and instilling another shot of fear into the people in the room. Batman lay somewhere in the back of their minds, in their subconscious prayers, but the rest was devoted to the super-criminals blocking their way out. While the location had been chosen as the safest in the city, the lack of exits had now been turned upon them all and there was no escape without the Dark Knight. No way out alive.
The blow to the head caused a slight stumble. The black rubber suit that blocked his line of sight causing to believe he had gone blind for a second before he realised his biggest enemy had finally appeared; exactly as planned. The light that had shone down upon the Joker only moments before had been turned off, replaced instead by the main lights as Robin took out the henchman in control of lighting. A growl rolled from the Joker's throat as he realised this, launching into an attack on Batman and leaving Robin to Harley.
It didn't even take two minutes after Bruce Wayne's guests had all fled the scene for a screech to carry across the room; a heart-wrenching cry that the Joker would be forced to mock the moment they were safe - the moment she was safe. The fist that collided with his face at that moment was sure to leave a bruise, but by now he knew his plan had failed, that any chance of wreaking havoc had been lost the moment the guests had escaped and now was the time to grab Harley and run. The action was quick; one punch to the jaw saw Batman stagger enough to succumb to the Joker's gas-filled flower. The coughing caused Robin to lose concentration in his fight with Harley, allowing enough time for her to hit him over the head, knocking him unconscious.
"Move!" The Joker hissed, fleeing toward the door with his lover as Batman started to recover from the gas. They went out the way the came in, thankfully empty of any police as of yet, but knowing fine well it would be flooded if they didn't get a move on. He threw himself into the back of the car they had come in, the top still down from every other time they had done this, and Harley flung herself into the driver's seat, starting the car almost instantly.
The pair felt a rush as they sped away from the building. This was his addiction and hers. The thrill of the chase after a heist, knowing Batman could be behind them at any moment, ready to send them back to Arkham Asylum if they made one mistake. It caused his heart to beat as fast as hers did when he cackled. This chase had happened many times before, and neither of the pair grew sick of it.
For him, it was an obsession. For her, it was simply to please him.