The Clown Prince

my brain:

“No no no.”  He finally spoke again after a long pause, a sigh rushing from his lips.  “No.  A lesson isn’t enough.  I need to make sure they understand just what it means to mess with the Joker.”

He grabbed his overcoat, the purple one he’d taken a liking to, and picked up weapons seemingly at random from his meticulously organized halo.  Knives, guns.  His cane.  Everything but the last item was tucked neatly away in his coat and he hardly even looked like he was weighed down with deadly weapons.

The threat rang out onto the moist night air, the rain clouds looming overhead, peering off at the moon and her wonder. Beneath the pale sliver of light, both men (more aptly, both creatures) stood in a garrish fight.

“No one makes me pay for anything if I don’t want to,” he growled, a sneer pulling at his lips now.  The Joker withdrew his gun, a hefty magnum of his own design, and aimed it at the beast.  He fully intended to put a bullet square between those empty eye sockets.  But it was more often than not that well laid plans fell through.  

How unfortunate.

Fancy footwork aided the Joker in his dance to escape the flaming chains.  This was nothing more than child’s play to the seasoned criminal and so was evading the hand that made for his shirt.  Honestly, did the flamehead have no respect for finely tailored suits?  His jacket was already lost.

“Clever,” he praised with a clap of his hands.  And then he was in the god’s space, looking right into those lovely green eyes and grinning far too wide.  “I had always heard it was magicians who hid their secrets, not wizards though.”

He shook his head.  “Why would I need one of your viruses when I can engineer my own?” he asked, tapping the side of his skull with one carefully manicured finger.  “I’m not just looks, junior.  There’s a lot more up here for Gotham’s greatest to fear than just a few laughing gas bombs.”

Upon Joker’s command, Esprit’s claws slid out, growling at the two beasts as they circled her. She kept a close eye on them, and would lash out every time they got too close to her. They taunted her, but she knew better than to allow herself to fall into rage while surrounded by predators.

One of them, the one she think was called Lou, soon tried to lunge at her and bite a chunk off her. Esprit’s instincts were fast though, and she was quick to whip around and slap Lou away. Her paw hit the hyena’s face hard enough to send it flying into a bunch of nearby crates. Lou landed with a yelp.

“Harls won’t mind a few nicks if I can bring her back a new shapeshifting pet,” he admitted, allowing his pets a little more time to harass and rile up the metahuman.  They wouldn’t be able to take down one lion on their own, at least he doubted it.  But the Joker had another trick up his sleeve that he was saving.  And he rested his hand over the pocket where he was keeping the tranquilizer gun.

He gasps as he is pulled into the other’s body, blue eyes are fully open for the surprise and expectation. Anthony thinks on pushing the other away and step back but something in the smirk, on the tone of his voice, makes him stay in his place.

He leaned in close to Anthony’s ear and whispered his next words.  “You also make me horny.”  

“Listen, Junior.  My clothes aren’t one of a kind.  I’m sure any old tailor with a decent picture could reproduce them.  I’ll even check and make sure all of my suits are still in my closet.”

The Joker picked himself up off the floor and walked around his halo of weapons to head into his bedroom.  A few minutes later and the clown was shouting.  “My favorite suit is missing!”

The solider leans back into his chair flipping the notebook to a blank page. He glances at the skin in question, the ashen look before he writes a note. “I’m quiet unsure why you would ask me of all people to help you. Though, if I have to guess, it’s because of my clause of helping both heroes and villains.” He comments with a huff writing short hand notes. He really didn’t want to help out - there was too much on his plate recently.

“Ah, where to start?” he hummed, though quieted as their waiter returned with a pair of cups and a pot of fresh brewed coffee.  These were left on the table and the Joker slipped a bill into the young man’s hand with the instruction to keep other patrons away from their table.

“Ah, The Clown Prince of Crime,” she stated, though her voice was full of sarcasm. “Finally, a face to put on the creep that’s been trying to find me for so long. Then again, I’ve never been an easy girl to get.”

Her body slowly transforming. Soon, a lioness stood before them. A natural choice, since hyenas typically feared lions. If Joker was going to play this game, at least it would be worthwhile to find out exactly what he wanted from her.

“How fascinating,” he commented and then turned to his pets who had begun dancing and cackling in their excitement, “Hush you two.  Patience is a virtue.”  Naturally, he was joking.  But he did want to observe the metahuman for just a moment longer.

And then the curiosity wore off.

The word was growled, mangled as if it had come through an engine rather than a mouth. The charcoal tone graveled against boney teeth as one long, imposing finger stuck out in proclamation against the clown.

“You have sinned. Murder, arson, theft, adultery. For all these crimes, you must pay your penance.”

“Oh, you’re giving me the willies now.  But I must defend my-”

He didn’t finish his sentence.  The Joker reacted with honed reflexes, moving with peak speed to jump away from those flaming chains that wreaked of some foul odor.  Was that Death?  What a strange twist to a familiar smell.

Oh no.  That was the smell of his coat burning.

“What a waste,” he commented with disgust, taking off his jacket and tossing the burning garment away.