capeandcowllogs | Log; Ongoing

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Log; Ongoing

WHO: The Joker, Robin(III), and Knives
WHERE: Some rooftop somewhere.
WHEN: Friday, Jan. 11, after sunset.
SUMMARY: The Joker is playing dress up and Tim interrupts.
WARNINGS: Violence for sure, maybe disturbing language. Look, it's the Joker, Robin, and Knives.
FORMAT: Paragraph

Cape flowing around him the Joker stood over the body of his latest victim. The cowl fit a bit awkwardly but it was a bit of a rush job. He'd had to kill a few costume designers before someone agreed to get it done in one night. Of course, he had to bring the heads of the other designers he had killed to get his point across, but sometimes that's what it took.

The body lay on the ground with a dazzling Joker grin on it's face and a bat-symbol carved into its chest. Really, that was sort of improv and not really the Batman's M.O., but he was spicing the character up a bit. Besides, who wanted to be dull, boring, grim Bats all the time? Green Arrow told him on the network he could be anyone he wanted so he figured why the hell not try seeing how it would feel to be Batman?

He was a bit too fashionable for the entire costume though so just opted for the cape and cowl. And his utility belt was mostly full of guns, razors, hand buzzers, and that sort of thing.

"Now I forget," the Joker said, scratching his head a bit at the only other people (well, living people in the alley. It was a family of three... father, mother, and son, huddled against the far corner.

"After I take care of the bad guy, I'm not really supposed to kill them, but don't tell, okay? do I kill you or let you go? I'm really knew to this whole Batman thing. Ahh well, I'll just go with what I usually do and kill you all!"

There were terrified screams as he pulled the trigger, only to have a bannered "BANG!" come out of the barrel.

"Ooh hoo, aha hahahahaha," he howled in laughted. "You should have seen the looks on your faces. Oh, that was priceless. Don't worry, I'm gonna spare your kiddie."

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Tim was scouring the city for signs of the Joker yet again when he heard the laughter - unmistakeable as it echoed from a nearby alley. He moved quickly to a rooftop overlooking the alley, intending to observe and call for back up, but it quickly became evident that there was no time to contact anyone. Not only was the Joker wearing some horrific parody of Batman's costume, but he was clearly about to kill the family cowering before him, and Tim couldn't afford to hesitate in stopping him.

He threw a batarang to knock the gun from Joker's hand as he leapt from the roof edge, using a precisely fired grapple line to swing down and put himself between the family and the madman. "Joker," he growled, gritting his teeth and snapping out his staff. He needed to give the family time to run, otherwise he wouldn't have bothered saying anything.

"It's Batman," the Joker growled. Not that he was entirely unhappy with this present development. He was hoping that one of the Boy Blunders would show up. "And I'm glad you came. I heard there's something like eleventy of you Robin's in this place and not a one has come out on patrol with me. Or maybe you're afraid to? Does Batman touch you in bad places? Lordy knows it's weird enough that he's out there with you underaged boys prancing around in your tights."

The Joker leaned around so he could look directly at the family behind Robin. "Trust me, folks. Don't ever move to Gotham City, who knows what your special little snowflake there will get into. Why I remember one time I was with one of Gotham's many orphan's. Delightful young man. Beat me nigh to death with a crowbar. So I had to blow him up dead. And it wasn't even a big explosion. You'd swear someone wanted him to die."

Throughout Joker's little ramble, Tim stood carefully still, suppressing facial twitches and feeling his scowl harden. He knew better than to let the Joker's taunts get to him, get him off-balance - he had to stay focused, and that resulted in a grimness that practically rolled off him in waves. He barely glanced back at the family with a word of advice - "Run." Whether they ran because the Joker scared them, or because he did, wasn't relevant - at least they were getting out of there.

Turning back to the Joker and his grotesque costume efforts, Tim shook his head slightly. "You're no Batman, Joker - you're just a sick freak, and I'm taking you in." He moved quickly (but not too quickly, still gunshy of his speed in combat) and swung the staff around, aiming for the Joker's head. He needed to disable him as quickly as possible, and stay wary of any tricks.

"Hahahahaha, take me in? That's a good one. You think because you actually wear pants you've got what it takes?" the Joker said, pouting as he deftly moved to the side to avoid the boy's staff.

"Love the new outfit, by the way," he chimed. Reaching around behind him, the Joker pulled out his giant, wooden mallet, one of the first things the in city he had procured. "I bet you were dying to change it up. Oh wait, wasn't it someone else that died for you to change it? I always get confused."

Alright, there was no denying that that got to him a little. Maybe more than a little - but he could control his anger. He kept an eye on that stupid, dangerous mallet as he moved into a kick for Joker's solar plexus, tucking his staff into the crook of his elbow for balance fluidly.

"Still as unfunny as ever." He should have regretted the provocation as soon as it was out of his mouth, but he just didn't - Joker had no right to bring Kon's death into this.

The Joker doubled over with an "oof" as the kick connected, sending him flying back into the wall of the closest building. He let out a wheezing little laugh as the air rushed out of his lungs.

"I don't know, he thought I was pretty amusing," he said, nodding towards the smiling corpse on the ground. "And let me tell you, that bat symbol is a pain to carve into their chest."

Standing up straight he stretched out his back and shoulders as he kept the mallet in a ready position.

"Tell you what. We know how this goes. I hit you, you hit me, and one of us goes down before the other," he said. "But let's be honest, even if you win I'm going to jail and I'm gonna bust out. I'll make you a deal. You take that guys gun and you blow my brains out with it. I won't even move. One shot and no more Joker. What'dya say?"

Tim straightened and readied a batarang, feeling a quiet rush of disbelief at the Joker's proposal. It was ridiculous. He maintained a blankly neutral expression, though he was still feeling the tinge of anger. "And we both know I won't do that." As tempting as it might have been, as much as it might have saved who knows how many lives - he couldn't. He flicked the batarang at the Joker's legs, aiming to slow him down.

He followed the throw with another swing of his staff, sweeping it wide so he didn't have to wait to react to Joker's movements.

The Joker spun on one foot, pirouetting as the batarang gazed his calf. He used the momentum to spin himself around, adding the extra force to the swing of the mallet as it connected with Robin.

"Home run!" the Joker shouted before giving a howl of laughter.

"You crazy heroes, so afraid to kill someone," he said, shaking his head. "It's easy. Or is that the problem? It's too damn easy? Pffft. Ten years from now you're going to look back on this day and wish you pulled the trigger. What if I kill Batman? Your fault. Kill your girlfriend or boyfriend, who knows what you're into? Haha, you coulda stopped it and didn't. I hope your principles are worth several thousand lives."

Tim rolled with the impact, getting clear and minimising the pain - but it still hurt like a bitch and made his vision blur for a second. He was lucky the Joker was too busy ranting to take advantage of it - or maybe his speedster metabolism reduced the opening, too. He flipped himself to his feet and shook his head slightly, partly to clear it and partly as a rebuttal of Joker's statement.

"Won't happen." He moved quickly, aiming a staff strike for Joker's arm, hoping to get him to drop the hammer. He ignored the arguments he'd heard so often before, leaving them to tear at his insides again later.

"Pfffffft, then you're no fun," the Joker said, letting out another burst of laughter at the staff struck his arm. A less man might have dropped the mallet but the Joker hardly even registered pain anymore.

"And if you're not fun then you might as well be dead," he added, taking another swing of the mallet. "I mean, you've met Jason. Talk about a party pooper. Best joke I ever did was blowing him up. Heh, gotta admit, coming back to life was a pretty good one to pull on me and Batman though."

Tim's jaw set with another surge of anger - this fight wasn't going too well, and the Joker's taunts were as personal as ever. If he hadn't been used to them, it would have been a lot harder to focus. He dodged the mallet and flipped backwards, deciding that it was time to call in reinforcements - there was no-one at risk here but himself, now.

"Let me liven things up then." He mostly meant that as a distraction, hoping Joker would let his curiousity distract him from the fact that Tim was typing up a message for the board - something simple, a quick alert to the situation and location. And another batarang shot at the same time couldn't hurt.

"Oh, batter up!" the Joker shouted as he took a swing with the mallet and swatted the batarang out of the air. Really, when you were used to deal with Batman it sort of made anything else a lot easier to deal with.

"Kid, unless you've got a Batman in your utility belt you're not going to liven a whole lot up," he quipped. Eyes narrowing he noticed the busy hand.

"Ah ah ah," he tsk'ed, reaching into his sleeve to pull out one of his razor sharp playing cards. "This is just between you and me."

With a snap of the risk the playing card went flying towards Robin's occupied hand.

"No getting anyone to interrupt our special playtime..."

Hefting the mallet again, the Joker stalked forward and took a big swing. This one was going to be a grand slam...

Tim wasn't able to complete his message before the card hit, slicing open his glove and knocking the communicator to the ground. He heard the beep that signalled the message had gone through, incomplete as it was, and hoped it'd be enough for someone to get here and back him up. Or that he wouldn't end up needing help -

No, that wasn't realy going to happen. Even though he was able to react quickly enough to dodge for the most part, he still suffered a glancing blow from the mallet on his shoulder, and it was a hard enough swing to knock him gasping to the ground for a moment. He'd need a few seconds to recover, and he might not get them.

The Joker definitely didn't give Robin those few seconds to recover. Instead, he viciously kicked the young man in the side, laughing while he did so.

"You wanna know something crazy?" he asked, taking a moment to catch his breath and push his hair back away from his eyes. "I could smash your head like a pumpkin right now Gallagher eat your heart out and you probably still wouldn't regret not popping me in the head. That's just nuts. And I'm the one that gets locked up. Hahahahaha."

The Joker gave another kick to the boys side before he raised the mallet.

"Now I'm not going to kill you because that's no fun if Batty isn't here, but I think turning your legs to a pulp might work for now."

He'd been occupied elsewhere in the City when Robin's message had first gone up on the network, but Knives made a point of checking it often even when he had no intention of commenting. Thus, it hadn't taken him long to notice the fragmented post, and without so much as a second thought, Knives had stormed off, abandoning his other project in favor of tracking down that human- that ridiculously stupid boy who he'd told time and again what would happen if he continued to cling to his absurd ideals. When dealing with vermin, one had to treat them as such, and just as he'd expected, Robin had gotten him in over his head.

Idiot, he seethed quietly, moving faster than any human had a right to as he honed in on the signal. The seconds slid by, but he was right on time, it seemed, shadows melting away as he stepped out of the darkness, his left hand already morphing. A flick of the wrist was all it took, and a blade shot straight through the Joker's shoulder, pinning him to the nearby wall.

Barely sparing Robin a glance, he took in the sight before him with disgust. So this was the Joker. One of the vilest examples of humanity he'd ever laid eyes on, and he'd seen a great deal.

"His life isn't yours for the taking, you disgusting piece of human filth."

It was a surprise to see Knives as the one to respond to his message - though with the technical aptitude the Plant had shown, perhaps it was only logical that he'd be the first to trace the signal, with most of the other technically gifted citizens either busy or not that concerned with Tim's welfare. After all, he knew that Knives had time on his hands, enough to play video games and read the board fairly comprehensively.

He wasn't quite sure how to feel about the sentiment behind Knives's statement - just whose was he, here? There had better not be any implication of his belonging to anyone but himself - but he was relieved not be getting kicked around any more, let alone having his legs smashed. He might have been able to avoid that anyway, but it would have been tough, and his sides hurt enough that he wasn't exactly unhappy to see the Joker getting pinned to a wall by a blade - a very nasty looking blade at that. And Knives had grown that from his hand? Hm.

But... "Don't kill him." He managed to mutter, sucking in a breath and getting up onto his knees. He couldn't let that happen.

"Awww, you ruined my fun," the Joker said, his overly expressive face drawn down in a pouting frown. If he actually felt the blade in his shoulder he didn't show it. Instead, he pushed forward, sliding himself along the blade and moving closer to this new person as his frown began to turn upside down.

"Besides, I wasn't gonna kill him," the Joker protested. "Just... tenderize him a little. And don't worry Robin, I'm not going to kill your friend here either. I just want him to... stop and smell the petunias.

With that, the Joker reached up and pressed the trigger for the flower on his lapel. The charge in it released and shot a batch of Joker Venom directly into the face of the new arrival.

Edited 2009-01-12 07:05 (UTC)

Knives glanced at Robin again, annoyed. The boy didn't really expect him to spare this piece of garbage, did he? The fool was practically begging to die. He opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off as the Joker started pushing forward along the blade. His mouth drawn into a thin line, Knives eyed the Joker coldly, unimpressed by the display and fully planning to rip this maggot's head off if he took one step closer - but then his eyes darted to the flower, understanding dawning just as the trigger was depressed.

Gas flooded his face and he whipped his other hand around, trying to sweep it away, but it was too late. The toxin had entered his system, and he stumbled back, coughing violently. A spasm ran through his arm, and the blade ripped free, the hacking gradually turning into something much more sinister: laughter. He was laughing, and he couldn't stop, his breath beginning to come up short because of it. It was blotting out everything else, and as it grew worse, the changes in appearance starting to appear, his left arm- which had already been shuddering violently, more and more feathered tendrils sprouting by the second- all but exploded.

A glory of razors erupted forth, striking out at random, even as the heat rooted in his left arm spread to his back, the beginnings of what could only be called wings started to push out and into the open.

The Joker howled with laughter as the... thing reacted. Because whatever that was it sure ain't human! Definitely amusing though!

"Ahh hahahahahaha, you should see the look in your face!" he shouted as he started to run away. The Joker had been in enough tight spots to realize there was probably going to be some sort of "boom" "zap" about to happen and he didn't want to be around when it happened.

Oh, shit. Tim stared in horror at the reaction Knives was having to the gas - under other circumstances it would have been interesting to see just what the differences in how the chemical compound affected Plant biology, but it looked painful and dangerous and was definitely not something he wanted to be seeing right now. He threw a tangle grenade after Joker's retreating form as he stood up, but it was a half-hearted effort that he didn't expect to catch the madman - Knives had just taken priority. Tim had to do something to help him, as fast as possible.

The laughter seemed to indicate that the chemical was reacting similarly to the way it would in humans, at least, and although Tim didn't have any Joker venom antidote on him - not that it could have been guaranteed to work, even if he did - a mild sedative might help relax Knives's muscles and prevent him from dying, or going completely out of control, before Tim could get him to a healer. There was just the question of avoinding the rapidly sprouting blades for long enough to get close and administer it, and Tim was still smarting enough from his fight with Joker that he wasn't exactly moving at top form.

But he had to try anyway.

"Hold on, this'll help. I hope." He said as he pulled out the small hypo and approached, carefully, trying to keep his voice calm even though he was really having trouble avoiding getting himself skewered.

The blades were mounting, growing in size and length as they began to tower over the alley towards the rooftops but with none of the control Knives usually had. The tendrils whipped about, debris starting to fall as the thrashing tendrils sliced chunks of the building clean off. He couldn't hear any of it, though, his own laughter ringing in his ears, unchecked, uncontrolled, just like the rest of him-

But then he heard it.

That same damned cackle he'd heard over the network just a day or so ago, and with that one sound, something besides chemical-induced hilarity began to spark in his brain: RAGE.

Dropping to his knees, still locked in the throws of the Joker Venom, Knives's right hand gripped his left shoulder, ignoring the feel of sharp feathers digging into his own palm. The pain brought some clarity, however small, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Robin trying to get to him. Was the fool INSANE?

"...NO." he managed to get out, the word breathless with fury. The Gate of his power had been flung wide open, and there was no way of containing it, not without an outlet...or unless he could somehow manage it himself.

He grit his teeth, biting back the compulsion to continue laughing as he attempted to channel the energy back into himself and purge the poison from his system. It was hard, and it felt as though he was being incinerated from the inside-out. He wouldn't stop, though, not until every last drop of that vermin's concoction was gone. He would not be bested, and certainly not by a human.

Okay, and now he had to dodge falling pieces of building, too. Just how sharp were those blades? They appeared to be moving with a hell of a lot of force, and all of it out of control, making it hard to predict where they'd go next in order to dodge them. Perhaps he should have paid more heed to Knives's warning, but he clearly needed help, even if Tim was woefully underprepared to offer it.

His efforts at dodging the blades and falling chunks of concrete were almost balletic in their grace, sidesteps and twirls and acrobatic flips that would have made experienced Olympic athletes jealous, even with his injuries, and he almost made it to Knives's side unscathed.

Almost.

The closer he got, the harder it was to dodge, and it was almost inevitable that he got hit before he made it. Two blades managed to slice into him, one just opening up the side of his leg in long, bloody gash like a thin red crescent of fire that burned across the muscles and made him falter, allowing the second to slice deep into his shoulder, severing flesh and bone like it was butter. With a strangled noise, he fell to the ground and managed to roll away, out of the range of the blades and feeling grit and debris grating its way into his wounds, his blood leaking all over the ground in a fluid red smear.

"Damn it..." He realised the syringe of sedatives had broken, as useless as he was right now, just a pile of broken fragments and spilled liquid.

Only semi-aware of Robin flipping around someone near him, Knives continued to draw his power in, a searing fire that raged, wreaking havoc on his insides. He doubled over, the agony of it as well as the very distinct discomfort of the two extra appendages sprouting between his shoulder blades making it impossible to even move. His grip on his arm tightened, trying to feed his brain the pain needed to help it focus.

He wasn't sure how long it took, but finally, the effects of the Joker's gas began to subside. The green tinge left his hair, his lips lost their freakish red hue, and at long last, the blades began to diminish. Panting now from exertion instead of laughter, Knives continue to pull the tendrils into himself. Stream rose off his body in wisps, the remnants of the poison twisting up and away before fading into the atmosphere. The wings, ironically enough, were the last thing to go, the feathers shrinking gradually, grudgingly almost, back from whence they came.

Knives shuddered, the last of the evidence of his power now gone. Every felt raw, as though his body had just been scourged with sulfiric acid. And perhaps it had, he allowed, a soft, involuntary groan escaping him as he pushed himself to his feet, murderous thoughts already beginning to filter into his mind. That piece of shit was going to PAY-

First thing's first, though. He turn, and sure enough, there was Robin, prone on the ground. Cursing silently, Knives approached, still a bit unsteady but in much better shape, overall, than the human he'd come to save. And those injuries- he hadn't even noticed when that had happened. Damn it.

He crouched next Tim, mouth thin as he looked over the wounds. It was uncharitable of him, too, but he could only think of one word to say. "...idiot."

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Log; Ongoing

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Fell asleep sorry .____.

S'all right, bb~

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