(Untitled)

[icd10f60pt7]

All day Monday, packages arrive at Arkham via various delivery services. One package for Giles, one for Alex, one for another doctor on the service and another for a nurse. Assuming these packages are actually opened, all they will find inside will either be a Newton's Cradle, or a very unassuming clock radio. Except for the fourth, of course.

Comments

[myownluck]

Harvey doesn't care much for explosions.

(Nice understatement.)

When the bombs go off, he drops down on the floor with a scream that's mostly lost among the rest of the noise, clutching at his face. That helps, some. The bricks that go flying don't turn that delicate scar tissue to pulp, the shrapnel doesn't get in his remaining eye.

The back of his head isn't so lucky -- he doesn't feel the impact, but the blood seeping through his hair tells the tale well enough.

[terrorofgotham]

Crane's in a straitjacket, today, for reasons of some poor behavior or another. Perhaps there were drug flashbacks, or someone's eyes were bothering him, or some such thing. Obviously, he's not doing any harm, though, see?

Even when the bomb goes off, he's not going anywhere, though. That is very, very annoying.

[onlynothuman]

Simon's in bed when it goes off, and he's luckier than Harvey. No flying bricks in here, just the thick glass wall shattering like safety-glass, a crazed pattern across the whole sheet. Doesn't fall, though.

But the window between his cell and Crane's does.

He scrambles up, ears ringing, and, checking to see if there are guards in the hall yet, edges towards that window.

[ha_in_havoc]

The blast goes off, pulling the Joker from mumbling to himself in boredom as he sits crouched on the floor. In the aftermath, there's silence filled only with a shrill ringing. The glass wall has gone from clear to opaque with its new endless web of cracks. Bigger cracks issue around the edges of the door. Dust fills the hall and there's marked damage to the wall. The clown pulls himself up, laughing madly and loudly. Possibly more loudly than usual, since he can barely hear himself.

"Tiiiime to go, gentlemen!"
Can they hear him? Quite possibly not. He goes to the task of issuing hard, solid kicks to the cell door, all the same. Spreading those larger cracks further and rattling the door slowly loose.

[paintfromlife]

So, you know, being a faceless minion has its ups and downs. Being recruited by a hot blonde to help blow a hole in the nuthouse? One of the ups, in Pickman's opinion. He's cackling like a loon behind his ski mask as he scrambles into the maximum security hall, heavy artillery in hand.

"An' we're clear!" he shouts behind him. Miss Quinzel, come on down!

[icd10f60pt7]

How many downs could there be in that recruitment? Well. Other than the inevitable Joker.

She will, in fact, come on down. Right after a couple other faceless minions of course, and carrying a rather heavy industrial mallet with her. For the cracked glass, you see. "Think anyone else fancies a field trip?"

The more mayhem, the better for escape, right?

[myownluck]

Harvey's only very distantly aware that he's in Arkham, still. That Harley's just entered the hall, there to break them out. That only comes through a fuzzy, distant (smoke) fog. The rest of him is snared in memory, waiting for the fire to come, for the sizzle and smell of burning flesh. He wants to scream again (laugh again), but he can't find the breath.

[terrorofgotham]

Oh, look, the window between him and Simon broke, and here comes the rescue squad!

"Simon," he says, somewhat more sedate than the situation calls for. "I could use a hand, if you would..." He doesn't have a trace of fear of the boy potentially choosing to attack him, instead.

[onlynothuman]

He should. Simon considers it, rather seriously for a moment. Fortunately, Harley comes and offers a distraction. And he can't run if he's eating, can he?

"Fine. If you tell her to let us out." Right, Jon, he's coming through.

[ha_in_havoc]

Oh, the joy a familiar face can bring! The Joker sees Harley and stops his kicking. Instead, he presses against one of the few remaining transparent sections of glass, grinning wide.

"~Haaaarley!~ Tsk." He tilts his head, smiling and speaking in his best approximation of a proud and adoring tone. "Did you do this? Good girl."

[paintfromlife]

Pickman is... though not smart enough to bow out of this endeavor altogether... at least smart enough to not deliberately draw the Joker's attention. He'll leave the scary murder-clown to Harley, and go over to Crane's cell, tap-tapping on the cracked glass.

"'ey, doctor! Simon! Yiz wanna come along?"

[icd10f60pt7]

"Of course I did." And proud of it. So much for all that progress she'd been making, hm? "Want out?" Hefting that mallet, in case he wants to take a step back.

[terrorofgotham]

No, he shouldn't, because there's enough going on that a distraction and course of escape was eminent. It's not that he doesn't find Simon dangerous, but much more that if the worst case scenario has him being eaten by his neighbor, it's not going to involve him screaming about it.

Ah, good, it's someone who sounds like Pickman! Whoever could it be? "That would be wonderful."

[onlynothuman]

"Hold still." Simon has never gotten to undo one of these before, and there are buckles in places he doesn't quite expect them, so it'll take a minute. But only a minute. "Lucky you don't get the mask, they use zip-ties on that."

[ha_in_havoc]

The Joker can barely hear Pickman from where he is and after the explosion. Between that and the distraction of being set free, Pickman is safe for the time being.

He grins and cackles at Harley and her great big hammer.
"Nice touch."
The clown backs up to the back wall while his girl readies to smash the wall holding him in. She should get a present for this. She will, if nothing else distracts the Joker between now and then.
"Swing away!"

[paintfromlife]

Though he has this nice, big gun, Pickman's not going to shoot the glass. Or try to use the butt of the gun like a battering ram. He has these nice, big steel-toed boots, too, after all and those should do something toward getting the glass down.

...just, not on the first try. He bounces backward from the first kick, almost falling against the glass on the other side of the hall. ushes himself up, glad that the ski mask hides his burning cheeks.

"...Awright..." He gets up, and gets ready to try again. The second go is more successful, putting deeper cracks through a good bit of the bottom half of the window, though it doesn't shatter yet. Again... doesn't do much, his foot missing its mark and glancing off the frame. Fourth, though...

On the fourth kick, he finally gets a good, solid, strong blow in, on the middle of the weakest part of the glass. It shatters into a rain of shiny, blunt little pebbles. And Pickman whoops with glee.