EXIT: MADNESS

Getting back home was her first priority– maybe it was a bad idea, being in a large apartment building, but she could only hope there was something to absorb the shock. It didn’t seem that was the case for other buildings– she could see and hear the deafening cracks, and could only watch in terror as the tall skyscrapers fell to their, and others, demise.

“Oh god–!” her voice shook as she heard the screams of more people, her muscles tensing in fear. What in the world was happening? Why was destruction coming to this place… some kind of afterlife, she had assumed. Maybe she was wrong, maybe–.

The cry for help that she heard was muffled, short, and followed by another. For a moment Chloe hesitated. Could she even help them? What if she got hurt in the process? There was no Max there to save her… But should couldn’t just let someone die. She would blame herself.

“Hold on I’m coming!” She called, running toward the voice. A convenience store had cracked and crumbled on a civilian, a slab of the store’s wall trapping him to the ground. Chloe looked at the fallen debris– maybe she was just strong enough to help…

“Okay, okay I’m gonna try and lift this thing and you gotta crawl out like a fuckin’ champ okay?!” Sure, freaking out in front of him wasn’t helping, but she couldn’t help it. With a grunt she pulled on the thick drywall and concrete,  adrenaline coursing through her system. It was only an inch, but she was able to lift it.

        Seeing the lady run up to him, his eyes widened and he jerked against the concrete before forcing himself to wait. He couldn’t afford to panic. Not now. Quickly he nodded, acknowledging that he’d heard her instructions... and as soon as the concrete began to move, Jack scrambled out from beneath it, swiftly pulling his legs free. For a moment, he remained there, half-crumpled, half-kneeling as he caught his breath. “Oh, thank God-- Thank you so much!” 

        But the danger was far from gone. He knew they had to escape.

        Forcing himself up despite how his legs ached, Jack took in a deep breath and looked around, wobbling slightly from the tremors. Where could they go? His mind was reeling with a scrambled collection of possibilities. He looked back at the stranger. He hadn’t expected his saviour to look like... that. But that hardly meant he was any less grateful. At least he couldn’t associate her with any of the people he’d had to work with before.

        “Come on -- !” Gesturing desperately for her to follow him, the Gothamite stumbled along, doing his best to hurry down the street without falling back down again. He didn’t want to get her into any more trouble, especially not when she’d saved his life so very kindly.

     He uttered her name gently, though the Joker’s mind was buzzing away a mile a minute. Another Joker? What a preposterous idea (though at the back of his head, it made sense.) Nevertheless, at least they were somewhat on the same page. “You’re upset, I understand. But think of it like this...” If she weren’t so on edge, he would’ve gladly wrapped an arm around her shoulders, hoping to draw her in. But he stayed back, giving her space. 

     “We can start over.”

❛you.❜ She nearly spat out the word, her lips furiously down turned with spite for the Joker. Without Harley’s say in what happened to the man, Ivy felt a sudden rush of delight. It was knowing that she could do anything to make him suffer that brought a flicker of a smile to her face, although it was soon squelched entirely.

     The Joker’s recollections of this particular woman were strange. The most he could fall back on were faint memories, those that were like dreams -- nothing... concrete. But that was alright. He was sure the gaps would fill with time, as they did with most other matters. “ME?” His eyebrows rose theatrically as he gave her a bright smile, hands on his chest as though he were both shocked and pleased.

     “What could I have ever done to you?” Squinting at her, smile still evident, the Joker swiftly held up a hand. He simply couldn’t help himself. “No don’t tell me. I uprooted your flowers. Contributed to global warming. No? Hm.” His smile dropped just as abruptly, displaying a sharpness in his dark gaze. It was all quite fun, really, but these were fascinating, potentially dangerous beings he was playing with. He had to play his cards right.

Suddenly, a chill runs through her spine. Fear? No, not quite. Perhaps at first, but the feeling soon subsided. Giving way to confusion. Then anger. Hatred. Such a familiar face it was. Familiar, but not quite the same. But it was the fact that it was familiar that flipped that all too dangerous switch. If it weren’t for the fact that her mallet had been taken away, she’d have swung it by now. Hell, she could always just settle for having him catch these hands.

     He gave her a wide smile, eyeing her sharply as a grim feeling settled in his gut. It seemed he was stuck with her -- for what felt like the millionth time. The Joker looked better than he had in recent years, but it was nice keeping things fresh. Groomed. And, knowing his habits, it was only a matter of time before his hair grew out again and things became more.. scraggly. For now, he chose to enjoy the experience.

Satchel full of gold watches and glittering jewels, the teen turned and regarded the stalking company that lingered. A brow arched at the make-up, green hair, purple suit - a little more grim than the clowns he worked with, but clearly, a clown.

“Judging people by appearances are we?” With a smirk the teen turned to meet Joker with his shoulders squared. His eyes darted up and down the man, a clown unfamiliar to the group he associated with.

     The Joker’s eyes widened, though not from the young man’s display of apparent skill. It couldn’t be — and yet it was. “Hawkeye, hm..?” A gleeful gleam could be seen in his dark stare. Slowly, he moved closer, absolutely focused upon the former hero. But was former truly the correct word to describe him? This man… he was clearly Clint, yes, but he was younger. More of a teenager now. It must’ve been due to the scientists’ schemes, as usual, though it nonetheless came as a delightful surprise.

     “I thought you looked familiar.”

     He sidled up to Clint, looking him over. “So... stealing from a jewellery store.” Shiny items such as jewels and gold pieces of decoration hardly mattered to the Joker; but that didn’t mean this situation had nothing to offer. “There’s a lot going on right now. Dare I say I expected better of you?”

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How Clint had managed to get himself here, he couldn’t recall. One moment he had been following the lead of Buck Chisholm, the Circus of Crime’s very own Trickshot, and in the next moment the haze of fog and lifted and he was among the rubble of a city in chaos. As disorienting and confusing as that was, the only solid thought that came to mind was - where did his mentor go?

Puzzled, the teenage archer sat himself on the curb of the street and removed the masked from his face. He wore a costume, one that matched his mentor Trickshot, black tights and a purple tunic. It might’ve been a little funny to see now, but moments ago he had been under the night sky, following Trickshot in a rather detailed robbery. Obviously, he had lost his way there - somehow.

Clint glanced up and down the street, noticing the unmistakable glow of a fire somewhere in the distance. “Hmph.” Brushing his knees he stood, the mask left on the curb, noticing the building he happened to seat himself in front of - a jewelery shop? There sure was a lot of glitter in the windows. He was actually shocked, how was a place like this not even lotted yet? Crime was so easy to commit when chaos kept watchful eyes occupied.

     The Joker came to a halt.

     “Well, what do have we here...”

     “Judging from that outfit of yours... I wouldn’t have assumed you were the stealing type’a guy..”

     As entertaining as meddling with heroes could be, the Joker found just as much entertainment in tampering with the affairs of criminals. Of course, a crime such as this seemed petty; something that any old rule-breaker could do, really. But why not have a change of pace? 

     Through it all, the Joker couldn’t help but feel there was something about this one. Something that set him apart from average robbers. Something about the situation seemed... off. He intended to get to the bottom of it, one way or another. 

   “My name’s Ciri.” She stood with shoulders back, hands resting casually on her hips, as she allowed his question to linger in the air a moment longer. “That? Oh, that was nothing. Shouldn’t bother yourself trying to figure out. At any rate, its unlikely you’d believe me, even if I did tell you.” A coy smile teased the edges of the girl’s mouth. "Now let’s see where we’ve landed, shall we?”

   Their platform was made up of dark clay bricks, surrounded by black, metallic railing with pointed tips that stopped against a wall, in which was embedded a door. Despite tremors and quakes that rattled the city, this place remained undisturbed, save for bird droppings scattered randomly here and there. No further inspection was necessary; even the dullest of minds would’ve figured they were on a roof. Ciri counted themselves lucky they’d not landed on a slanted one spied off in the distance. 

   “I’d only intended to take us around the corner…” she muttered, with a note of irritation, starting for the door. Her fingers curled around its knob, though stopped short of opening it. With a look over her shoulder, Ciri motioned him over with a head tilt. “Let’s move on to the lower levels. I’m eager to find out where we’ve ended up.”

     It seemed she didn’t have a complete grasp of her -- her powers, if that was an appropriate way of referring to them. The mere concept of them gave Jack a thrill of excitement. It was like something out of a fairytale, really. But now he was beginning to trust the reality of the situation, no matter how dream-like it seemed to be. 

     Strangely enough, there seemed to be something eerily familiar about this place. It was beginning to get dark out, making it somewhat difficult to determine their surroundings, but... Jack simply couldn’t shake off that feeling. For now, he’d keep quiet about it, but that voice in the back of his head -- it seemed to grow louder as they started down the stairs. Like listening to the muffled voices of neighbours, he could vaguely hear the voice’s volume, it’s presence in his mind, though he remained unable to make out any of the words. 

     “Ah..” Skittish? How embarrassing (though he hardly intended to deny her claim.) “I--” And yet he faltered. How long had he been there? “..I’m not sure..” Jack sounded confused. “I feel as though I’ve been here for ages, but.. strangely enough, I don’t remember much at all.” Nervously, he laughed. “Nerves must be getting to me. But-- are you also a newcomer?” He was relieved when they reached a doorway. The door itself creaked slightly, and as they exited the stairwell, they entered a large room shrouded in the dim light of dusk. A library.

     “Huh..”