capeandcowllogs | 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."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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."

Log; Ongoing

Fell asleep sorry .____.

S'all right, bb~

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