#foolishpleasure

"If ye lookin' for trouble ye really couldnae look inna better place." She was too tired to mask her thick accent, or maybe the accent was there because she was tired.

“There comes a point when metaphors run out their welcome.” None of which answered his initial question: superhero, villain, or mugger. Seeing as the man wasn’t riffling through his pockets or coping a feel, the tension in his muscles could relax… a fraction. This man was no comic book hero, but that mask had arrested his attention.

This was one of the strangest cities he had the displeasure of falling into. Just a few moments of sleep untethered, and he had awakened in the Atrocities Realm, surrounded by the traumatic moments of every human to have ever lived and still suffering; a forever-expanding and never-sleeping world of repetitious memories. There would be no leaving this urban decay until he located the source of heartbroken screaming he’d followed, clawing through a thin membrane from the Atrocities and into the alley several blocks from where they stood.

He didn’t think this man was the origin, but there was a thread floating in front of his diaphragm. He was doing his best not to look at it directly.

Her mind still hadn't quite made sense of what happened. Processing it felt like trying to recall a nightmare that was just out of reach. She was meant to die. Not that she necessarily wanted that outcome, but it had easily been the most likely. Even with all her planning, taking out an entire criminal organization was no easy feat, but now that she had? What was she even supposed to do now? Her mind raced with thoughts, eventually bringing her to the only place left standing that she still felt safe.

Sitting beside the door, waiting, she couldn't help but let her mind wander. Would he still recognize her? Would he be angry? She had left him without so much as a goodbye. Sure, she had her reasons, but still... it had been so long. How would he feel having her just show up in his life? No, she had to leave. He was better off without her causing trouble.

Quickly getting up, she turned to make her exit, only to freeze, making eye contact with the same man she had just planned to avoid.

closed starter for @foolish-pleasure​. 

She circled him like some kind of predator animal out in the wild, a slow walk around his chair, her heels scuffing along the concrete. This motherfucker had to be either real desperate, or reallllllll stupid. Could be both, they weren’t mutually exclusive after all. 

Maybe he had some kind of kinky death wish-- it wasn’t unheard of for men (it was always men) to try and pick a fight with her goons hoping they could live out their fantasy of having the Joker herself put her boot to their neck. This probably wasn’t that. 

Maybe he didn’t fear her. Maybe letting one Arkham psychologist get too friendly had set a bad precedent, and now they all thought they could just do what they wanted and she wouldn’t hook up a battery to their balls. But after what she did to that one orderly on her way out, she doubted anyone in Arkham who knew about it didn’t piss their pants at the sound of her name. 

"Is this meant to be threatening?"

YES!