[Thread] Can't Kill Lonliness Alone

[veryusefulbook]

Characters: Helena Campbell, [OPEN]
Where: Gotham
When: 5.16.2009
Summary: Helena has been holed up in her room for four months, eating, sleeping, drawing, and trying to remember. She heard of part of a city named Gotham that was phased in. The name was quite familiar to her so she decided to leave her room to brave its streets to find something, or

Comments

[entro_pist]

Something told him that his wasn't a very forgettable face.

The Joker watched Helena as she spoke, a small knot forming in the center of his eyebrows. Watched and listened. Not so much listening to what she was saying but rather to how she was saying it. Her sharp British notes tickled his ears in ways that were strangely not new. While he did this, he placed his gloved hands on the slanted handrail, one atop the other, sliding them down until he was standing less to the side of her and more to the front of her, but still on the other side of the guardrail. Chin resting on the back of his hand, he seemed to consider Helena in the same way she was considering him.

For a lingering moment, he just looked at her, right eye squinting, as if he were on the verge of delivering an insightful answer. Or maybe he'd just ignore her questions altogether...

"You're new around here, aren't you." It didn't need to be asked, and it wasn't. It was declared. He was pointing at her from beneath his chin, little up and down motions of his finger. "Because if you weren't and you knew where you were, you wouldn't be here. You'd know this isn't the best place for a leisurely evening stroll." He gave a nod toward their surroundings, eyes darting back and forth before they settled to meet her gaze again.

"So..." Lips pursed, eyebrows raised, he peered up at Helena and awaited her explanation.

[veryusefulbook]

Helena had not been herself in quite some time, feeling forgotten and misplaced in another world with so many other scattered memories, people, and events shoved into some fog in the back of her mind. It was this fog that stopped her from being able to concentrate even on the clear things that she already knew. Her concentration had been so heavily placed on all the things she couldn't remember that she had begun to forget what she could remember.

However, something about the way the man in front of her slid his way across the rail, squinted his eyes, something about the fact that he would not answer her questions but then would ask his own... something struck her gut with a force that she could not describe. This was recognition, but she still could not remember him. She remember the mannerisms, the expressions in his features, but his physical features for some reason, did not strike her as anything familiar.

She decided to answer his questions, however, with a smile on her face, "Yes and no actually. I've been here for... ummm, a few months anyway. But I haven't really gone out and about. A friend once told my about this city, at least, I think he was a friend. I came here hoping I run into some familiar faces."

Helena followed his eyes, scanning the area around her. She had felt that it was probably not the best place to be ever, let alone in the rain at night, but being from London and in comparison to what her own mind could conjure up she figured she would be alright.

She brought her eyes back to the man in front of her and extended her hand towards him... a spur of the moment action.

"I'm Helena, by the way, Helena Campbell."

[entro_pist]

As soon as Helena started to extend her arm, the Joker had lifted his chin and reached over the rail for a brief handshake, squeezing her hand in a way that was twitchy yet firm (perhaps too firm).

"Helena Campbell." He was saying it along with her, almost in unison, like the name had been waiting there on the tip of his tongue this whole time. But the words he said next seemed at odds with his initial response, "Nope. Doesn't ring a bell."

Letting go of her hand, he swung around the edge of the stairwell and came to rest on the bottommost steps, just two or three away from Helena and effectively blocking her way down. There he sat and clacked his tongue thoughtfully. "But. For me, a face is more important than a name. And your face..." he pointed, "well, I might've met someone who looks like you. Not that that's any surprise."

He shrugged with a dismissive wave of his hand. Though, if Helena was watching carefully, she might catch a facetious glint in his dark eyes. Speaking of names, she was probably wondering who he was but he wouldn't give her his name. Not until she asked. And for the moment, he wasn't keen on giving her many opportunities to ask.

"Mind if I borrow this?" He gestured toward the sketch pad. Whether or not she intended to give him permission didn't matter, he'd already snatched it. And her black chalk as well. "Just for a minute. Thanks."

It had gotten quite dark and no light came from the barred up windows of the closest building. Luckily the streetlamps offered some wan shafts of light that filtered into the narrow alley, enough for the Joker to see what was on the pages in front of him. Once he'd gotten comfy on the thin, hard steps, his back pressed against the rails, he flipped idly through the drawings with the occasional lilting "hmm" and "ah".

[veryusefulbook]

Helena watched cautiously as the man before her flipped through her drawings. He listened to his "hmms" and "ahs" but wasn't sure if he was being serious or sarcastic. She eyed him closely, keeping her main focus on how he moved, what he said, when and how he spoke.

She knew this man. She knew that she did. She felt it in his grip and the sound of his voice saying her name was more familiar that she would have liked. She began to feel an uncomfortable tug in her gut, but she never did like fear getting the best of her so kept the feeling in check.

However, another thought did strike her. She might not be the only her that he knew.

"I wonder if you know... my twin." She stated it more than asked. She wasn't really lying but its not like she was a sister either. But really, if truth be told, they were very technically born of the same mother so what the hell. She could justify her false truth all night long if needed but she was losing her focus.

Her eyes alighted on his face, studying as much as she could in the darkness, looking for any changes of expression in his eyes, his... grin.

"Oh, and if you don't mind..." when he reached what she saw as the last sketch she grabbed the sketchbook, as if kindly taking it back, but the sarcasm in her voice and the firm grip of her fingers probably stated otherwise.

[entro_pist]

From the way she was quick to make a grab for the book, he immediately sensed there was perhaps something inside she didn't want to be seen. Something she wanted to protect. Or maybe she didn't want the drawings stolen or ruined. Whatever the case, the Joker tightened his hold on it, unwilling to let go just yet. He didn't forcibly try to tug it away, simply held fast to it at a point between the two of them so that if Helena continued to pull on it, she would be the one to tear it.

"Ah ah ah! Right there. Hold it." As it was, the book was closed and the Joker couldn't see whatever was on the page nor did he attempt to peek between the pages. Instead, he chose to hold her eyes with his. "I just want to draw you a little something. Something quick. But since you have no extra space..." His hand crept up to her wrist and angled it downward so that both the book and the back of Helena's hand were facing him. First he blew on the back of her hand, then dusted it off, prepping it to become his canvas.

"Keep still. I won't peek if you won't." He gave her one more quick glance before brushing the dull tip of the charcoal pencil over her skin, tongue sliding into the corner of his lips as he began to sketch on the back of Helena's hand. But the time wouldn't be filled with silence.

"So, this friend you're looking for. Who is he? What's he look like?"

[veryusefulbook]

Again he had managed to evade her questions and move onto another subject. And now her hand was stuck in limbo. She knew her grip was tight but that his was just as strong and she refused to be the one to rip her own sketches. Neither would she potentially risk the lives and places of those that might live in them.

She kept her hand firmly placed on the book but out of curiousity she also kept her hand still and steady. She had never been anyone's canvas before and Helena's curiousity often got the better of her so she kept motionless as she watched lines begin to form on her hand, wrist, and forearm.

For a while her she attempted to stay silent, tried to image what anyone would want to draw on her. She also debated on answering his questions or not. She had refused to answer her own and had changed the subject more often than not. However, a thought did occur to her and it was this: it was possible that if the man she was looking for and the man now sketching on her were from the same place and, though the chance was small, the same time then it was possible that if they were both here they would both know each other. Her chances were small but they were enough to give her the slightest bit of hope and that's all she needed.

Helena quirked her eyebrows together and more than answering his question she just began to think out loud. "We met.. somewhere else. Not here. I know he's kind, tall, older... a businessman I think or maybe a lawyer? He always wore a suit. And his name... I'm still having a bit of trouble with that. I know it started with an "H". Harold... Henry... I don't know."

His name was on the tip of her tongue but she just couldn't muster it up. She decided to that if she just stopped thinking about it it would come to mind. Then she began to ramble on about how he had a very kind smile, shaggy blond hair that always seemed to fall the same way. She recounted all these things as an old friend would talk about another old friend: with admiration, respect, and the tenderness that can only be found between two friends.

She eventually trailed off, her thoughts now silent. She felt almost foolish talking about him to a complete stranger but the hope was still there that maybe they knew one another...

"What about you," she finally asked, "Are you looking for anyone? Or are you just here because you're from here?"

[entro_pist]

A certain district attorney came to mind as soon as Helena had mentioned the word "lawyer" way at the beginning of her description. But what were the odds of her knowing Harvey? The Joker had kept silent, drawing wild black lines all over Helena's pale skin while she continued to describe what sounded more and more like Harvey Dent the longer she went on. Finally he decided to speak and the pencil stopped as he met her eyes.

"Wait, waaaait. I know who this is. Lawyertype? Unwavering belief in justice? Prominent chin-cleft?" he added, indicating his own chin with the pencil. That was it. The Joker could no longer contain himself and promptly erupted into hoots of laughter that echoed in the dark. His grip, however, remained on Helena's wrist (he has yet to do a very important finishing detail on the picture. Then she can have her arm back.)

In his sudden burst of excitement, he'd shifted and was leaning forward now, eyes gleaming from their blackened sockets like a hungry dog. "You mean...you mean Harvey Dent?"

[veryusefulbook]

"YES! Yes that's his name!" Helena had gotten so excited she just blurted it out like a small child who had just seen the only present they wanted for Christmas.

Helena was about to ask a plethora of questions when it finally occured to her that the man across from her had burst into laughter. Uncontrolled laughter as if this was the best joke he'd ever heard. This bothered her, sent a chill through her entire nervous system though there were no physical signs of this chill that would ever be apparent to him.

Helena had leaned in uncontrollably when he first mentioned Harvey's name but now she withdrew a few inches. "You know him, don't you?" Her tone was serious, almost sarcastic. She knew the answer but she asked anyway.

Also noticing that the pencil was no longer on her hand though his grip was most certainly still there she tried to wiggle her hand around in an attempt to reclaim her arm.

[entro_pist]

This time he eagerly answered her question.

"Oh, I do. Harvey and I, we go waaay back." The grin remained plastered on his lips as he bent his head to Helena's struggling arm, tongue flicking out just once. The rough tip of the pencil came down on her skin once more, this time in a very careful, controlled sort of way in a small area on the back of her hand. It pressed hard against the skin in tiny circles, applying what one could guess was the darkest shade the pencil could offer.

He spoke all the while, glancing up into her eyes every now and then, the way a manicure specialist would to keep a client happy and entertained while their nails got painted. "Of course, if you ask anyone here about Harvey Dent, they'll give you some vague unsatisfactory story about how he's no longer... himself. Or that he's "gone missing". But don't listen to them. Don't even waste your time."

Here, the pencil stopped and the Joker leaned in even closer, voice hushed to a conspirational hard-edged tone. "I know the truth. I know because I saw him, spoke to him, in person just the other week. And he was his good ol' golden boy self again."

The Joker bit his lip with three slow nods of his head, gaze never veering from Helena's eyes in those few seconds of silence. Then he popped his lip free from his teeth and released Helena's wrist. "Here's your arm back. Enjoy."

Drawn on the back of Helena's hand was the image of a pale female face above slender neck and shoulders adorned in black. Her dark hair was pulled atop her head where it was fanned like a crown. Her colored lips curved sinisterly while tendrils of black stretched and curled upward along Helena's arm like shadowy vines. But the darkest part of the picture was there on the face of the girl-a pair of eyes, solid and black. The sketch was rather intricate considering the short time in which it had been drawn. It would be upside-down from Helena's perspective unless she turned her hand a certain way. But even when viewed at the wrong angle, it was easy to see what the picture was representing.

[veryusefulbook]

Helena had been listening intently her eyes never leaving his, her lips plastered shut, just waiting for any information she could get because just like that Harvey had almost been completely restored to her memory, or at least little bits and pieces of the time they had spent together. Conversations about him being afraid one day he would become something he would hate, him sitting there talking to her in what looked like a cafe talking about someone else aside from themselves, someone who was not good, Harvey had kept telling her. Helena saw Harvey standing next to her, some kind of meeting outside, a man chained up next to her, Harvey's hand on her shoulder holding her back and protecting her all at the same time.

Something still prevented her from remembering who the man was they always talked about, the man in the chains. He was a dark blur in her mostly cleared up memories concerning Harvey. But she didn't care. She had gotten back a piece of herself, her memories, and had gotten one step closer to finding a friend.

Helena waited impatiently as he finished his drawing on her arm, she wanted to get up and go find any place a district attorney could be in this place. Her feet started to tap on the ground, though her hand was kept steady.

Just as soon as she got her hand back she went to take a quick glimpse of it and prepared to stand up all in the same motion. But in mid stand, her hand held before her face, she saw the upside down image. Even in this darkness she could not mistake the image. She stood up slowly, straightened her back. The colour had washed from her face. In that one moment he had answered all of her questions.

Yes, they knew each other. What was worse was that he also knew her. HER of all people he knew her... Why couldn't she remember him?!

Her natural instinct was to take a few steps backwards but somehow she knew that if she did that he would come in closer like a prowling cat on the hunt.

The only thing she knew she could do was speak. "Do you know where he is? I need to see him. Please." Her voice held a form of recognition and a dash of irritated fear but more importantly was the underlying anger in her voice.

[entro_pist]

The Joker, sensing Helena's mounting excitement and anxiety, stood up as well and gripped both handrails on either side of the stairwell. The downward slant of the steps canceled out their height differences and the two of them were at eye level with one another. He had her trapped, leaving her with nowhere else to go but backwards up the fire escape. The charcoal pencil had disappeared into his coat pocket, likely unnoticed by Helena in her heightened emotions.

"Do I know where Harvey is? Right now? Let's see..." His eyes rolled skyward as if he might know the answer. He didn't, but humored himself with the act. "The last place I saw Harvey wasn't in Gotham." This didn't answer her question but at the same time it wasn't a lie, just parts of the truth. The whole truth was that he didn't know exactly where Harvey was, but he knew that the DA was still somewhere in the base and hadn't yet ventured out into Gotham. The whole truth, however, was boring.

"But what'll happen if you find him, Helena? When he doesn't know who you are?" His eyes had landed on her again, watching for any signs of emotion that might play across her face. The grin had vanished from the scarred corners of his lips, but traces of it still glittered in his eyes. "What will you do when he doesn't even remember your name?"

Just as he'd inspired hope in her heart, he would attempt to inspire doubt and fear. Which would prevail?

"Or what if he ever runs into her? What then, hmm?" He took a step up and consequently grew taller as he moved closer. "It's funny, you're both similar except one of you is moving in reverse. You have something dark that you overcame, but he has something dark that he's going to become."

[veryusefulbook]

Helena had been listening intently, keeping her gaze on him and every move he made. It was true she hung on his every word, waiting for some kind of real answer, one she trusted to not be a partial truth.

She was disheartened that Harvey had not yet come back to Gotham, but it would make it easier to find him if she knew that he was still in the compound somewhere and not in a random city. She just needed to get back to the transporter. At this point, however, she realized that her chances of making it out of her current situation quickly was going to be difficult.

She stood her ground however and listened. Listened against her will as he taunted her. It was true. She came here with next to no memories of where she had once come from prior to this place. She had almost no memories of those people. Except Harvey, he's the only one she had remembered the most.

In herself her heart began to sink at the questions thrown at her. What would she do when she saw him... and he didn't remember her? Would he recall her as she had him? Or would she just be another face in the crowd. Another stranger in a strange world?

She looked down at her hand, the one with the image of The Princess etched onto it. She looked back up as he began to move up the steps, growing in height, becoming more sinister, more familiar to her.

Then the last question danced in her mind, "what if he runs into her...?" Who was... her. Rachael. He had mentioned her, mentioned that she, Helena, had reminded him of her. What if he did? Good for him? Bad for her? Did it matter? Helena's thoughts raced in vivid images and colours across the landscape of her mind, her emotions tagging along for the ride. She did not yet know the full capacity of her feelings for her friend Harvey but she would not let him use that against her. Or anything.

Though a few emotions might have skimmed across her face: concern, fear, anger the only one that was left now was rage. Helena's eyes filled with tears and they slowly coursed down her face. Her short stature had raised to its fullest height, her teeth clenched, one of her hands in a tight fist, latched onto the rail next to her and the other hand gripping her sketchbook, her knuckles white.

She did not like being toyed with and she felt like this wasn't the first time he'd done this, and probably not the last, but she would make sure that he knew exactly what he was dealing with.

Helena took a defiant step forward and jutted her chin in the air, glaring at this familiar stranger, the restrained anger pouring out of her with her british accent, "It doesn't matter. Harvey will remember me. And it doesn't matter if he meets her here or not! Good for him then that he could have a piece of home to himself! Something that he truly loves! And you're wrong. Harvey will never become the evil that he claims lurks in his heart! We all have a choice! We make our own destinies! I made mine and he can certainly make his own!"

A thought, a bad thought, but the words were out before she could stop herself, "Because unlike one of us here we don't let our darkness choose us!" She glared at him her hands shaking with her anger, the tears streaming down, unnoticed to even Helena.

[entro_pist]

The distance between them now had shrunk down to a single stair step and Helena's angry retort echoed against the dark empty walls and windows of the alleyway. But the Joker didn't appear to be the least bit affected, almost as though he were only half listening. His attention shifted momentarily from Helena to the surrounding area, a quick look around, even a glance over his shoulder and up above their heads, all while she was still speaking. Then his eyes jumped back to her teary but hardened face. Her emotional reaction that had stemmed from his words, the defiant fury, even the challenging step forward, would only serve to encourage him.

"Oh, no?" One hand left the guardrail, reached into his coat and produced a knife. Its blade glinted in the green and amber lamplight, moving with his hand as he spoke. "Wanna know what I think? I think I can choose to bring "it" out of you right now." He gestured toward Helena's hand, the one bearing the Princess's face. "Because some of us, whether we like it or not, come to realize that we can't live in this world without that darkness. Some of us depend on it to save us from reality."

Was he testing her? Did he know more than he'd let on? Perhaps he knew that the way to coax Helena's dark "twin" out into the world was to pose a legitimate threat to her life. Or perhaps it was something else altogether he had in mind. He began to move in closer. If she backpedaled he would follow, and if she chose to stay and fight, he would likely ignore all her kicks and punches and drag her up the fire escape.

[veryusefulbook]

He knew.

That's all she could think about. He knew. He knew how she could come and go, what provoked her into the places that she now inhabited. It was not something that had happened before, it was something that started when she had first been taken from her world. She had needed her protection, her abilities. Or was it that she wanted them? She had never been sure, never been certain of what really drew her out.

Maybe all this time it had been Helena's own fear that fueled the fire that enabled her to come into the world. An on switch because she herself fed off of fear in other people. The Princess: the stuff of nightmares, the heir to that world of shadow.

Helena felt the pull in her gut. It was fear mixed with a familiar pull. Moments flitted through her mind of other times, and places, all the circumstances vague shadowy flashes but the feeling... That feeling was the feeling she got before The Princess would inadvertently take her place.

But Helena would refuse it. She would deny it. She stood her ground, quickly thinking, scanning the area around her for any other exits than the obvious. All she could seem to keep her attention on, however, was the knife in front of her. It too was familiar. Without thinking Helena's hand went up to the corner of her lip.

Why did she do that? She felt there with her tongue. There. In the very corner where her two lips met was a was a small hairline scar, barely if at all noticeable to anyone who was even paying attention and something she herself didn't even realize was there until just now.

"You." Helena stood as if she were about to be tackled, her chin still in the air, but her back slightly arched. She would not move. And she would not be moved by any force. She knew it was stupid, but suddenly she knew that running away would only entice him further, excite him more, and either way she knew she was going to end up caught. The only thing she could do was keep his excitements at bay (as much as she was able) and try her best to fight... by whatever means necessary.

Though in her heart she felt that he would not ever kill her... she knew also that this would not stop him from torturing tormenting or attempting to twist her into something she was not originally.

So she did all she could do. She stood up straight, lowered her hand to her side, wiped away the Princess' image onto her jeans, and stared knowingly into the eyes of her enemy: The Joker.

"I remember you now... I think what made it so hard at first was because... maybe I did not want to remember you for all that I found you truly were. I would have preferred you to be different, that maybe there was something else you were hiding. I tried to believe that all people, no matter who they are, can change. I don't think it ever occurred to me that you had already changed, and did not want to anymore."

Her shoulders were tense, rigid. She waited, watched the knife, gritted her teeth, clench the sketchbook. There was no where to run... and this time, there was no one else to run to.

However, that small glimmer of hope that constantly lived in Helena was still there. It was dull, to be sure, but in spite of it all Helena smiled and breathed out a slight laugh. He would never truly ever be able to catch her anyway... not the parts he wanted.

[lilbrownrobin]

"Hey!" a powerful but distinctly young and female voice shouted from the darkness. She had stood silently on the roof of the building across from the pair, just watching, until that glint of streetlight on steel caught her eye. Once she had their attention, she leapt off the roof easily and fearlessly to land on the pavement with a dull thud. Her cape caught the wind to slow her fall and her boots absorbed the shock as she hit the ground. Leaping off buildings were no big deal.

Robin stood up slowly, feet apart and cape billowing out behind her. She was an imposing figure to the low life of this city despite her stature and blond hair. Gotham criminals didn't stand a chance... when she had backup. Alone was a different story. Still, it wouldn't stop her from patrolling or protecting her hometown.

It might even produce a lead or two.

"Step away from the girl and drop the weapon. We can do this the easy way or the hard way and, trust me, I'm in no mood for the hard way tonight." Her brows knit together and you could tell through the dark mask that she was glaring at this... freak.

Could it really be the infamous clown prince of crime? If it wasn't so dark she could be sure.

[entro_pist]

He already had one hand wrapped around Helena's throat when he heard a shout cut through the darkness. Pausing with the blade's point held just below one of Helena's ears, the Joker slowly turned in time to see the red-caped vigilante land on the shadowy street. It was not the vigilante he'd expected but this didn't mean he was disappointed.

"Ahh," his voice rose and fell in a musical way, "so someone else wants to play, hmm?" The masked woman's demands went ignored as the Joker peered at her with amusement, eyes dipping down and then back up as he took in the sight of her costume. Though his attention had been diverted from Helena for the moment, his grip on her remained firm whether or not she tried to struggle.