The Mystery of the Jokers!

[mistahjay.livejournal.com]

Gotham City. Six o'clock PM. Watching television, Gotham? Not for long. There's a scream of static, and then...

"Attention, Gotham City. This is...The Joker."

The transmission sputters and snaps, finally refocusing on the grinning face of the Clown Prince of Crime himself.

"Rumors of my demise have been greatly exagerated, I'm afraid." Joker winks at his audience, before resuming his 'serious face' grin. "In order to remind you, my dear Gotham City, just who the clown prince of crime around here really is, I shall be revisiting an old favorite. I know, retro's so on its out, but I just can't help myself..." The picture shudders again, showing a camera eye's view of a posh apartment complex. "Before my...little face lift, the honorable Judge I. Joe Kats decided to have a brief, uncharacteristic show of morality, throwing me in the slammer after I acted like a good citizen and paid my bribe! Now, I think you shall agree, Gotham, that while we may be a spicy cesspool of crime and villainy, some things are simply not done."

Again, the clown. "At precicely midnight tonight, I shall end Judge Kats's contemptable life, and purloin the information I need to make off with every asset the old man has. I will not be caught. I will not be traced. And not even BATMAN can stop me! Say your prayers, Kats! Vengence...is in the cards!" Cue the chortles of insane glee, and the Joker card image that lasts for all of a minute before the local stations viciously take back their airspace.

Meanwhile, in the Ha-Hacienda, an evil man sits in the thrice damned chair a professional disagreement left him in...and drops his remote control into his popcorn bowl in sheer shock. "What." The Joker asks...himself, a henchperson, an invisible friend?...staring open mouthed at the television. "...what?!"

Some hours later, around eleven twenty five PM,

Joe Kats wipes his brow, looking nervously around him. "I...I thought he didn't do this sort of thing anymore. I thought he only did explosions and giant clown robots and-officer what are you doing?!"

"Relax, sir." Officer Julie Tailmar adjusts her glasses and shows the man the medical patch on her shoulder. "Standard percaution when the Joker makes a threat like this. If he somehow manages to get Joker venom or another toxic substance in here, this should keep you alive long enough to get you to Gotham County Hospital, where the toxology lab's all set up. Now, just hold still..."

The judge winces as he feels the fluid within the needle enter his body, more sweat running down his expansive forehead...the police seem comfident that they can save his life, at least, but how many times has the Joker proven them wrong before?

 

Comments

[femme-du-chat.livejournal.com]

This normally isn't her gig.

But the man's last name is Kats. She had to at least show up, right? Well, no, she didn't but she's here now and watching to see what happens.

It would feel good to punch the clown.

It would feel really good.

[mistahjay.livejournal.com]

"Did you see somethin'?" Officer Myers grunts to his partner, taking another quick scan of his immediate surroundings.

"No..." Officer Shuresh replies, whiping a little sweat off of her brow. She can't admit to her sergeant how terrified she is to be on Joker Duty. "...but, um, should we call in anyway...?"

The Clown Prince of Crime, however, did not anticipate the Queen of Cats's involvement; her sophisticated techology, if she's looking properly, will be able to catch the strange, white-ish gas seeping out of the vents of the room; following that path will lead to the tetriary air conditioning unit, stationed in the repair shack of the roof. Does she want to warn the police, or try and stop the flow directly?

[femme-du-chat.livejournal.com]

She isn't well liked by the police on her best days.

That said, she knows she doesn't have much tieme for the people in the room. Catwoman moves quickly, moving her way toward where she can turn the gas off at ths source.

[mistahjay.livejournal.com]

Two things become immediately apparent;

First, the large, clown's head-shaped transistor attached to the prime air recycling unit. Recently, the rich of Gotham have taken to installing these as a preventitive against gas attacks; the idea is, even if someone throws a gas bomb inside, the building's air conditioning systems will suck up the heavier gas, trapping it for safe disposial.

Unless, of course, some maniac sets up the air recycling system itself to spew altered air back into the building. Then, why, their own rescue equipment would be what killed them, especially if someone was to hurl some perfectly harmless, but different from standard air enough to set off the recycling system, gas into the room. A sick mind, even, could consider this kind of twisted attack to be...funny.

Which brings us to the second part of the whole 'readily apparent threats' thing, that being, the Joker isn't standing there.

"Heh heh heh..." The voice chuckles, breaking into song! "...theeeee cat came back, the very next day! The cat came back! We thought she was a goner! But the cat came back...she just couldn't stay awaaaaaayyyyyY!~" How does the Joker-who's looking decidedly dated, by the way, having not worn that particular cut of his suit since the very beginning of his career, back when it was more about elaborate death traps than body count numbers-manage to be so sneaky when wearing purple? "The calamitous, callistetic, cumulous, curvacious Catwoman! What a suprise! You know, in the not suprised at all sort of way. Watch your step." The clown head's mouth snaps open, a pair of cuffs streaking towards Catwoman's wrists! "These half-refurbished buildings can be dan-ger-ous!~"

[femme-du-chat.livejournal.com]

Catwoman moves. She moves quickly. The cuffs would be annoying but time consuming and she'd rather not waste any time with them at all. As the guy is singing still, she's flipping through the air. A little of the edge is taken off because this guy isn't the real thing.

She has no idea WHO he is but since he isn't the real thing, she's a little less worried. Sure, he's still obviously dangerous but the real thing tends to cause a chill seep inside that doesn't eaily fade.

And she managed to be even more sneaky in purple for almost a decade.

The whip is out by the time she lands, cracking toward him, looking to wrap him up.

[mistahjay.livejournal.com]

"Is that any way to treat an old friend?!" The Joker looks appaled, as his left arm snaps up, the whip cracking around it, "Though, I must say, oh felonious feline, it's nice to get some attention. Here I thought you were all about getting a bat in your belfrey..."

Joker pulls back, then; his left forearm detaches from his body, freeing him from the whip and sending said arm flying towards catwoman. And by flying, we mean 'shoved forward by the rocket installed at the base of the arm, while the hand curls into a fist...!'.

"Got the idea from one of those old Japanese cartoons." Joker admits, sitting on his bum where he fell, shoving his real arm back through the torn suit sleeve. "Joketo Paaauuunnnchhh! What do you think? Too much? Eh? Come on, you can tell me, we're both professionals!"

[femme-du-chat.livejournal.com]

"We've never been friends."

A rocket prope.... Never mind. Getting out of the way of the rocket is easy enough. Detaching the whip is harder but she manages to do it before she's pulled too far off balance.

She needs to get closer.

[mistahjay.livejournal.com]

The Joker pauses, pressing his hands to his chest and looking...if it's possible..., "Well, that just hurt my feelings." Yeah, that. "Not the not friends thing, you've been a sellout since 1987. But this banter! I mean, what, did Batman bite you during one of your late-night 'catfights' and you caught his tastelessness? I mean, you might as well be grunting from the shadows." The Joker puts his fingers on his forehead, giving Catwoman a grim glare, "I am the niiiiiggghhhhtttttttttt! I mean, whatever happened to that ol'Catwoman style! The grace, the flair, the need for ludicriously expensive Italian everything...sure, people change, but this much change, all at once? That'd freak me out. I mean..."

"...there's a time and a place for a makeover..." A third voice, deeper than the others, purrs from behind Selenia, as a cheerful purple hammer with a head the size of Catwoman takes a swipe at her! The man weilding it is the Joker...sort of; his features are different, his voice deeper, his hair tied into spiky green dreadlocks, his shoes, well, aren't, and his eyes are a bloody red instead of a greasy yellow..., "As long as you put the right kind of thought into it!"

"See what I mean?" The Classic Joker says, thrusting a hand at Catwoman with a mellowdramatic sigh. "We're so disconnected we can't even get a good theme going with our quips."

"Well, if you'd start ushing jokes written after 1954..." The Rasta Joker mutters, mid massive mallet mash.

[femme-du-chat.livejournal.com]

"I don't banter with people who talk to themselves. It isn't worth it. Usually I-" Woah! There was a giant hammer there!

Catwoman dives forward into a roll, looking to get close enough to the first Joker to take care of him. He seems like the lesser threat. Not that either of these two are at all unthreatening. She needs to stop the gas quickly.

And multiple Jokers is never a good thing.

"What is it? Rip off day or something?" She had better not see one thread of that horrible green thing she used to wear.

[mistahjay.livejournal.com]

Wham! A foot slams the Classic Joker in the face, shoving him backwards with a groan, purple blood leaking out of his mouth.

"Tell me." Rasta Joker leers, spinning around and hurling the enormous hammer right at Catwoman! "Is this really your priority, Catwoman? I mean, gosh, I'm not one to tell the cunning heroine her job, but-"

Classice Joker laughs from his bloody position on the ground, "-when have we ever played fair?!"

Ding! Ding! Ding! Judge Katz looks at the clock, sweating. "M-midnight. Hah." Katz adjusts the lapels of his suit, seeming to find his days being literarily numbered suddenly funny. "Ah-hah hah hah..."

"Your honor?"

"Honor?" Katz's face twists into a grin, as shaking, gloved hands rip the thing off...a mask! Revealing the pale, smooth, almost subdued face, well groomed hair, and a smile that is disturbing in its mundanity-as if this Joker, the Final Joker, was reading something funny in the paper instead of at a major crime scene. "I never even knew her! Smile, kids, that's a classic!"

[femme-du-chat.livejournal.com]

"Damn it."

This shouldn't have been so hard. Get to the top, take out the Clown and turn of fthe gas. And now she's completely screwed it up. Turning, she runs for the edge of the building diving out and off the edge of the building. As she does so, the whip flicks out behind her.

If she's judged this arc right, it'll bring her back into a window near Katz. If not, well, it'll be pretty damned ugly for her.

[mistahjay.livejournal.com]

The floor is littered with bodies-the Final Joker is holding a lit cigarette, luxurating in the police on the floor, stretched out, looks of fear, horror, and desperation still etched on their faces...

...well, except for the closed eyes, the rising and falling chests, and the...

"Sleeping." The Final Joker murmurs, looking calmly up at the Catwoman as she lands in front of him. "The chemical compound combines slow acting sleeping gas with a nicotine-tangental stimulant. One of the great things about being a criminal genius, o'femme serioustalkingto-al, is not having to worry about no smoking signs. Do not be alarmed, his honor is alive..." The Joker smiles silkily, as a click behind him causes a piece of the wall to detach, drawing apart to show a hidden room...with the real Judge Katz tied up, hanging over a lead-lined pool of bubbling, boiling...well, it's in lead, it's green, and the man is desperately trying not to be dipped in it, what do you think it is, boys and girls? "...for the moment."

"The question becomes, then, do you want to keep him that way?"

[femme-du-chat.livejournal.com]

"If I didn't, I wouldn't be here..."

They're sleeping. What the hell is going on here? Catwoman is hating ever single second of this entire thing. More than one Clown is a horrible thing. Her hand stays wrapped around the whip.

How the hell is there even a detachable wall here? Ugh. Just one more thing to drive her crazy.

[mistahjay.livejournal.com]

"Wouldn't you?" The Final Joker purrs, walking forward languidly so as to get a better look at the Catwoman. Again, this particular Joker is, perhaps, all the more gruseome for the relative mundanity of his features...if not for the context, he could almost blend into a crowd, if he really wanted. "How quickly we forget our true nature..."

"Which is, of course, why things like me exist." The Final Joker hisses, his hand snapping lightning fast!-to show a trio of busniess cards. "Three locations. Three crimes. Three Jokers. All you have to do, Catwoman, is take the cards. I'll let the man go. And as for what you do with them? Well, my dear, that is entierly your choice..."

"But I guarantee." The Joker hisses, snaking close enough to, if he were so inclined, bite her nose off, "That if you do not give your brooding beau the heads up, he will not find what I...or any other clever thief who might take advantage of my actions...take. Untraceable. And that's the joke, Catwoman! To paraphraise ol'Abe Lincoln himself, anyone can be a hero under the right circumstances. If you want to see who they really are, give them..."

The Joker bows, mockingly low, as if the index cards he was presenting to Catwoman were a rare bouquet of flowers. "...oppertunity."

[femme-du-chat.livejournal.com]

Catwoman stands up a little straighter.

She doesn't want to get close to the Clown. Getting close to the Clown gets you dead most times.

"You're using me as an errand girl?"

[mistahjay.livejournal.com]

"Hah!" The Final Joker barks a laugh, as the shaking form of Judge Katz moves from over the bioling acid to over the far less deadly linoleum floor. "If that's how you see yourself, my dear, I'm afraid that's all you."

"Which is the joke." The Joker smirks, dropping his cigarette onto the floor; it bursts, sending a thick cloud of smoke up and around the madman's body, "See, a Catwoman walks into a perfect criminal oppertunity, and all she's got to do is only tell her brooding boyfriend about one or two jobs if she doesn't want to arouse...suspicion. How reformed is she?"

And as the smoke begins to clear, there's no sign of the Final Joker, except the lingering, throaty chuckle of a criminal genius who's all too satisfied with himself....

[femme-du-chat.livejournal.com]

Catwoman is confused.

She has no idea what, exactly, just happened but she's going to go make sure that Judge Katz is okay. And then... Then, she'll take a look at the rest of this ... stuff, these cards, whatever they are.