#laughn

     the   continuously   wrong   dialing   might   get   her   in   trouble   later ,   when   the   owners   of   the   numbers   her   fretful   fingers   push   call   back   &   wonder   what   seems   to   be   the   matter   &   who’s   troubling   their   sleep   at   such   hours .   she’s   been   attempting   to   get   to   him   for   a   minute   now ,   it’s   the   endless   quivering   of   her   own   hands   what’s   been   sabotaging   her .      “   arthur ?   ”      after   a   couple   additional   strives   &   more   beeps   than   she   would’ve   preferred ,   the   phone   on   the   other   end   is   picked   up   &   she’s   greeted   by   silence .      “   arthur ,   can   you   come ?   i   have   something .   ”      her   voice   hints   distress,   her   voice   hints   impatience   &   also   regret .   her   voice   tells   she’s   been   crying .      “   i   have   something   to   tell   you.   but   i   also   have   something .   it’s--   it’s   actually   part   of   it .   ”

righteousness      is       unfaltering ,       unflinching ,       strenuous in strength      of knuckles       that strap      tight against      the texture of      coarse lapels ,      steadying man      from his      hard      downfall      ----      courteous instinct      guides hands      to      brush the dirt      off      from remains ,      what’s left of dignity .      but doesn’t fixate .      easily      backs away ,       glaring eyes      up      at sorry      son of a bitch      in reluctance .      matter - of - fact       when he says ,      ❝     you’re alright    [  ...  ]     ❞      he won’t want      to hear anything else      besides it .      thus      tone isn’t inquisitive ,      only self - assured ,     phlegmatic of one’s      own wishes      --      𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜      𝙽𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙾𝙵 𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙱𝚄𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙴𝚂𝚂 .      and therefore ,      he turns ,      already intended      to be on his way ,      absentminded      in his tellings .      ❝     get      some ice      on       that thing ,      it’ll scar if you don’t .      ❞

@laughn​   prompted   ❛   do  i  seem  familiar ?   ❜  + eddie

  LADY GREY: IN EVERY LOWER LIGHT SENTENCE STARTERS.   /  𝙰𝙲𝙲𝙴𝙿𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 !

                𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐈𝐒  𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐑  𝐈𝐍  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐘-𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐃  𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒  𝐎𝐅  𝐆𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌   ,   a  funny  thing  ,  this.   not  just  being  spoken  to  ,  acknowledgement  of  himself  is  a  curious  ,  but  the  question  takes  him  off  guard.   DO  I  SEEM  FAMILIAR  ?   are  you  supposed  to  ?  eyes  take  him  in  ,  the  wrinkles  of  his  face  ,  the  texture  of  his  skin  ,  the  color  of  his  irises  and  he  thinks.  yes.  yes  this  too  ,  is  familiar.  the  exhaustion  that’s  bone  deep  ,  the  exhaustion  that  sits  like  bruises  around  his  eyes  ,  the  cheap  smell  of  smoke  ,  the  stagnant  air  every  waiting  room  shares.  THE  STOP  AND  GO  TRAFFIC  OF  LIFE.   yes  ,  he  thinks  ,  you  do  look  familiar.  as  familiar  as  the  skyline  ,  as  familiar  as  the  city  ,  eddie  could  walk  the  worry  lines  and  dreadful  hope  the  way  he  could  cross  the  city  streets.   desperation  has  a  feel  to  it  ,  like  oil  ,  like  grease  ,  it  stains  and  it  grips  and  scrubbing  it  away  is  a  job  hard  taken.   he  smiles  around  a  mouthful  of  cream  colored  teeth.  

“ 𝑯𝑶𝑳𝒀 𝑺𝑯𝑰𝑻. ” Was all he could muster up at first. Just wide, excited eyes. Something inside warned him that maybe this shouldn’t be a character he should be excited to see. Like, Eddie wasn’t going to excuse the guys actions - the dude fucked up. 𝐁𝐈𝐆 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄. That was some fucked up shit. But also? Who fucking gets to meet comic book characters. And, if he could meet Arthur then he could, like, totally befriend Batman. The Batman! 

“ 𝑯𝑶𝑳𝒀 𝑭𝑼𝑪𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑺𝑯𝑰𝑻. ”

              A PAUSE , looking over at him with gentle eyes before her lips spread into a wide smile as she starts to laugh . she couldn’t help it as she doubled over , clutching her stomach . ‘ that was too funny . you seemed so disappointed- oh my god- ’

     “     i don’t think that’s unfair .     “     he doesn’t . why would he ??     “     that’s not asking too much .     “ 

@laughn​ said:  "untie me, and i'll make it up to you."

     PARTY  CRASHERS  COULD  ALWAYS  COUNT  ON  THE  JESTER’S  HOSPITALITY. He always carries a couple of warm welcomes up his sleeve — a bolting bullet is usually the one he settles for on the chilling spur of the moment. Today’s unwanted guest might’ve been LUCKY enough to only get captured and sat down for an oh-so engaging little chat. Especially with a BOUNTY on his head, Joker values PEACE & QUIET more than ever. Too bad someone decided to interrupt his wicked idyll by taking the wrong turn. His newest hideout ( freshly abandoned funhouse with a homey basement, reeking of dust, decay and chlorine ) appeared to be situated far enough from attracting potential VISITORS; who in their RIGHT MIND would wander off all the way to these even more dismal outskirts of GOTHAM?

     ❝  Bloody cretin... Are you aware of what you’ve just gotten yourself into?  ❞ Stopping in his tracks, right behind the stranger’s back, for once UNARMED hands fall onto the other’s shoulders. ❝  I hate to be a herald of woe,  ❞ the maniac leans in, hoping each word will resound LOUD & CLEAR, ❝  but I’m afraid what you’ve done is not redeemable.  ❞ An echoing stomp backwards; vexed yet amused eyes travel across the ropes keeping the CULPRIT in place.

     Frankly, he does seem harmless. But the clown prince wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t drag the DRAMATICS on for longer. Now circling the other ( every heavy step bouncing off the scraped walls ), his pallor is adorned with a REVEALING hint of malevolent delight when a trusty glistening revolver comes into view. The gun’s pointed at the man’s head whilst SHARP GAZE mellows into a glare of anticipation.