[Log] Don't fret, Precious, I'm here...
Characters: Cissie King Jones [OU]; The Joker [OU]
Where: The basement of the clinic, (a.k.a. the morgue)
When: The other day/night. Before the missing persons were buried.
Summary: The Joker allows Cissie 10 seconds of contact with the outside world.
Warnings: Mild psychological torture?
Cissie woke up slowly, her head pounding. She groaned a little and tried to put a hand to her head-except that she couldn’t. As she woke, she realized she was lying on a strange, hard surface and she had no idea where she was or what had happened, except that she was… tied up?
Nearby, the Joker watched as Cissie began to stir, monitoring her level of consciousness. It was about time for the dose of ketamine he'd given her earlier to start wearing off. "Wakey, wakey." It was the only warning before the tape over her mouth was peeled off with little care.
Cissie gasped in surprise and pain, wincing and coughing a few times. The tape being ripped off hurt, and she felt kind of sick from the drugs. She stared up at the Joker for a stunned moment, the memories of her abduction returning to her slowly through her drug-hazed brain. Then she started trying to free her hands from the rope binding them together. Hoarsely, she asked, “What-where am I? What are you doing?”
The last time she'd seen his face, it was in its natural state. But now it was covered in fresh layers of cracking, runny greasepaint, emphasizing his macabre grin. Ignoring the questions, the Joker lifted her into a sitting position and climbed onto the flat bed of the drawer with her, sliding himself up to sit close behind her. Very close. "Shh shh, don't worry," he whispered into her ear. His tone was soothing but would likely produce the opposite effect. "Listen, I have a little present for you...." In his hand he held Cissie's communicator, waving it in front of her face. "How would you like to make a call, hmm?"
Cissie flinched away from him as best she could, shuddering involuntarily at his voice so close to her ear. If the drugs in her system weren’t already making her nauseous, his proximity might have. When he waved her PDA in front of her, her breath caught and she felt a little like the ground was falling out from under her. This-was bad. She was in so much trouble. Fighting to find her voice and not throw up, she managed, “What-do you mean?”
Attempts to flinch or squirm away only resulted in the Joker tightening his grip. As it was, he had an arm looped around Cissie’s middle, restricting her movement. “Exactly what it sounds like! I’m going to let you leave a message for your friends,” he spoke with exaggerated clarity, breath hot in her ear. The communicator blinked to life as his thumb punched the keys and was placed just inches away from Cissie’s face.
“Now, you’ll only have ten seconds so make it fast. Annnd go.” At the touch of a button, transmission began…
Cissie inhaled sharply. Ten seconds? To leave a message… Panic surged through her and she struggled to free herself, pushing her bound arms against the arm he had around her; she didn’t have much hope for escape, but she couldn’t just meekly accept whatever fate he had in store for her and there was no way she was going to just… say goodbye, or whatever the Hell he wanted her to say. If she could just catch her footing, or maybe-his head was right there and if she could just stun him for a second… she had no idea what she would do then, but she had to try. “No!” she ground out. She pitched forward suddenly before rocking back, hoping to knock heads with him. “Let me go!”
As soon as Cissie pitched herself forward, Joker anticipated her next move and looked down, bracing for collision against the top (and hardest) part of his head. There was a very good chance it would hurt her more than it would him. At the impact, he merely laughed-high, muted giggles behind closed lips-and drew impossibly closer. The steel drawer of the vault rattled under their movements, accustomed to the stillness of death rather than the struggles of the living.
“Five seconds,” he warned. The recording had not stopped and he jiggled the PDA in his hand where it was repositioned before Cissie’s face once more.
For all that it had been worth a try, it was a stupid move-there was an almost audible crack when her head hit his. At the impact, she gasped and involuntarily groaned. The laughing in her ear made her shudder and kept her from remaining stunned. She saw stars, and combined with the drugs still in her system, she really couldn’t think of any other way to try escaping now. She tried to shake her head, but the movement made her nauseous and intensified the way the room was starting to spin. Maybe if she could keep him talking-he might forget his time limit. It might buy her a few more seconds, give Tim and the others some kind of clue. “What are you doing? What do you want?”
She knew they were stupid questions and the chances of getting anything like an honest answer were next to none. But she had to try. She wouldn’t record a goodbye message. She wouldn’t give up and let that be the last thing anyone-the last thing Tim--heard from her.
CLICK. He cut the recording exactly 10 seconds after it was started.
“Time’s up.” Cissie’s communicator vanished into one of the Joker’s pockets. “Aww, what’s wrong? Couldn’t find those perfect heartfelt words? It’s okay; I wasn’t expecting a Hallmark presentation.” He rummaged hastily through his coat behind her. “That’s why I brought this…” - a camera appeared in his hand and he released his arm’s hold around Cissie to adjust the focus and shutter, head bouncing cheerfully as he did so.
“You and me, we’ll make a Christmas card for Timmy he’ll never forget.” After a few seconds, he was finished and slapped a hand over Cissie’s forehead, pulling her head back against his shoulder to keep her still. “Mmm, don’t forget to smile,” he grinned, resting his chin on Cissie’s shoulder. The camera flashed in the darkness, illuminating their horrible surroundings. Cissie would no doubt be blinded for a moment, but she would soon feel a cold sting in her shoulder. The needle of a syringe.
Damn. Cissie’s heart plummeted when he turned off her PDA and declared her time up. She was not going to cry. Even if her last hope for escape or rescue had failed-no. Not her last hope for rescue, not by a long shot. If nothing else, that “message” would tell everyone that she was alive, and here, rather than mysteriously vanished from the compound like so many others recently.
When the Joker pulled a camera into her view, her stomach turned. He was-no. No. She tried to twist away, but the mention of Tim stopped her short. Oh god, Tim.
“No!”
Cissie tried to escape, but the Joker was stronger and then the flash blinded her. Before she could even see again, she felt a cold, sharp pinch in her shoulder. Her vision began to swim even as the blinding effects of the flash faded. Being already weak and partially drugged, it was not going to be long at all before the new dose took effect and knocked her out again.
“Sweet dreams.” Such were the last words she would hear for a long time as Cissie faded back into unconsciousness.
Had she even realized where she was? She had no idea that Nightwing, one of her own close friends, was right there in the room with her lying no more than three feet away, ‘asleep’ inside the cold chamber. What a cruel little thing irony was. But the night was not yet over. With Cissie now sealed away in the vault above Nightwing’s, the Joker left them in search of his third and final victim. He would wait until the right moment before posting Cissie’s voice message to the network.
Where: The basement of the clinic, (a.k.a. the morgue)
When: The other day/night. Before the missing persons were buried.
Summary: The Joker allows Cissie 10 seconds of contact with the outside world.
Warnings: Mild psychological torture?
Cissie woke up slowly, her head pounding. She groaned a little and tried to put a hand to her head-except that she couldn’t. As she woke, she realized she was lying on a strange, hard surface and she had no idea where she was or what had happened, except that she was… tied up?
Nearby, the Joker watched as Cissie began to stir, monitoring her level of consciousness. It was about time for the dose of ketamine he'd given her earlier to start wearing off. "Wakey, wakey." It was the only warning before the tape over her mouth was peeled off with little care.
Cissie gasped in surprise and pain, wincing and coughing a few times. The tape being ripped off hurt, and she felt kind of sick from the drugs. She stared up at the Joker for a stunned moment, the memories of her abduction returning to her slowly through her drug-hazed brain. Then she started trying to free her hands from the rope binding them together. Hoarsely, she asked, “What-where am I? What are you doing?”
The last time she'd seen his face, it was in its natural state. But now it was covered in fresh layers of cracking, runny greasepaint, emphasizing his macabre grin. Ignoring the questions, the Joker lifted her into a sitting position and climbed onto the flat bed of the drawer with her, sliding himself up to sit close behind her. Very close. "Shh shh, don't worry," he whispered into her ear. His tone was soothing but would likely produce the opposite effect. "Listen, I have a little present for you...." In his hand he held Cissie's communicator, waving it in front of her face. "How would you like to make a call, hmm?"
Cissie flinched away from him as best she could, shuddering involuntarily at his voice so close to her ear. If the drugs in her system weren’t already making her nauseous, his proximity might have. When he waved her PDA in front of her, her breath caught and she felt a little like the ground was falling out from under her. This-was bad. She was in so much trouble. Fighting to find her voice and not throw up, she managed, “What-do you mean?”
Attempts to flinch or squirm away only resulted in the Joker tightening his grip. As it was, he had an arm looped around Cissie’s middle, restricting her movement. “Exactly what it sounds like! I’m going to let you leave a message for your friends,” he spoke with exaggerated clarity, breath hot in her ear. The communicator blinked to life as his thumb punched the keys and was placed just inches away from Cissie’s face.
“Now, you’ll only have ten seconds so make it fast. Annnd go.” At the touch of a button, transmission began…
Cissie inhaled sharply. Ten seconds? To leave a message… Panic surged through her and she struggled to free herself, pushing her bound arms against the arm he had around her; she didn’t have much hope for escape, but she couldn’t just meekly accept whatever fate he had in store for her and there was no way she was going to just… say goodbye, or whatever the Hell he wanted her to say. If she could just catch her footing, or maybe-his head was right there and if she could just stun him for a second… she had no idea what she would do then, but she had to try. “No!” she ground out. She pitched forward suddenly before rocking back, hoping to knock heads with him. “Let me go!”
As soon as Cissie pitched herself forward, Joker anticipated her next move and looked down, bracing for collision against the top (and hardest) part of his head. There was a very good chance it would hurt her more than it would him. At the impact, he merely laughed-high, muted giggles behind closed lips-and drew impossibly closer. The steel drawer of the vault rattled under their movements, accustomed to the stillness of death rather than the struggles of the living.
“Five seconds,” he warned. The recording had not stopped and he jiggled the PDA in his hand where it was repositioned before Cissie’s face once more.
For all that it had been worth a try, it was a stupid move-there was an almost audible crack when her head hit his. At the impact, she gasped and involuntarily groaned. The laughing in her ear made her shudder and kept her from remaining stunned. She saw stars, and combined with the drugs still in her system, she really couldn’t think of any other way to try escaping now. She tried to shake her head, but the movement made her nauseous and intensified the way the room was starting to spin. Maybe if she could keep him talking-he might forget his time limit. It might buy her a few more seconds, give Tim and the others some kind of clue. “What are you doing? What do you want?”
She knew they were stupid questions and the chances of getting anything like an honest answer were next to none. But she had to try. She wouldn’t record a goodbye message. She wouldn’t give up and let that be the last thing anyone-the last thing Tim--heard from her.
CLICK. He cut the recording exactly 10 seconds after it was started.
“Time’s up.” Cissie’s communicator vanished into one of the Joker’s pockets. “Aww, what’s wrong? Couldn’t find those perfect heartfelt words? It’s okay; I wasn’t expecting a Hallmark presentation.” He rummaged hastily through his coat behind her. “That’s why I brought this…” - a camera appeared in his hand and he released his arm’s hold around Cissie to adjust the focus and shutter, head bouncing cheerfully as he did so.
“You and me, we’ll make a Christmas card for Timmy he’ll never forget.” After a few seconds, he was finished and slapped a hand over Cissie’s forehead, pulling her head back against his shoulder to keep her still. “Mmm, don’t forget to smile,” he grinned, resting his chin on Cissie’s shoulder. The camera flashed in the darkness, illuminating their horrible surroundings. Cissie would no doubt be blinded for a moment, but she would soon feel a cold sting in her shoulder. The needle of a syringe.
Damn. Cissie’s heart plummeted when he turned off her PDA and declared her time up. She was not going to cry. Even if her last hope for escape or rescue had failed-no. Not her last hope for rescue, not by a long shot. If nothing else, that “message” would tell everyone that she was alive, and here, rather than mysteriously vanished from the compound like so many others recently.
When the Joker pulled a camera into her view, her stomach turned. He was-no. No. She tried to twist away, but the mention of Tim stopped her short. Oh god, Tim.
“No!”
Cissie tried to escape, but the Joker was stronger and then the flash blinded her. Before she could even see again, she felt a cold, sharp pinch in her shoulder. Her vision began to swim even as the blinding effects of the flash faded. Being already weak and partially drugged, it was not going to be long at all before the new dose took effect and knocked her out again.
“Sweet dreams.” Such were the last words she would hear for a long time as Cissie faded back into unconsciousness.
Had she even realized where she was? She had no idea that Nightwing, one of her own close friends, was right there in the room with her lying no more than three feet away, ‘asleep’ inside the cold chamber. What a cruel little thing irony was. But the night was not yet over. With Cissie now sealed away in the vault above Nightwing’s, the Joker left them in search of his third and final victim. He would wait until the right moment before posting Cissie’s voice message to the network.