(no subject)
Day: 12
Characters: Joker, Orochimaru
Summary: Joker gets a helping hand during therapy. Which would be useful, if he didn't already HAVE one. A hand, I mean.
DAY/NIGHT & Time: Early Evening
Status: Closer/Incomplete
Waking up.
Joker had done it before. Often, even. He'd woken up easy, with difficulty, and even three days later without a clear recollection of how he'd gotten there (except that he fuzzily remembered Batman's gloved fist heading towards his face). He considered himself an expert on the subject, frankly. A master. A connoisseur. He'd woken up in his bed, in the street, and in an asylum (Asylums, now, technically. This place was DEFINITELY not Arkham.)
So when Joker woke up feeling as if something was a bit queer, he was fairly confident that he knew what he was talking about. He was pretty sure he knew what he was talking about.
He moved to scratch his head quizzically, but his left arm...it didn't reach. His lipstick red mouth turned down in confusion. He tried again. Still, his fingers sort of grazed the middle of his forehead. It tickled; he giggled. The laughter only lasted a moment, however, before an even kookier realization started to dawn on him.
Joker sat up, slowly. He was groggier than he was accustomed to, and wondered if this was another concussion. If it was, he hoped someone would be gracious enough to let him in on how that concussion had occurred. He waited for the room to stop spinning quite so much, and for his eyes to not be quite so blurred.
He rubbed his eyes with his other arm, and that worked much better than his left arm. No issues with distance, no sense of the bizarre (of which Joker was intimately familiar with). Joker wasn't yet sure whether that was a relief. Ridiculous was fun, but Joker preferred being at the helm of that particular ship.
His vision didn't need to clear for him to finish piecing together what was disturbing him. After all, he could FEEL it. He wasn't accustomed to his left arm not being in the right place.
The right place? His left shoulder.
It's current location? His stomach.
"Oh, dear me."
Characters: Joker, Orochimaru
Summary: Joker gets a helping hand during therapy. Which would be useful, if he didn't already HAVE one. A hand, I mean.
DAY/NIGHT & Time: Early Evening
Status: Closer/Incomplete
Waking up.
Joker had done it before. Often, even. He'd woken up easy, with difficulty, and even three days later without a clear recollection of how he'd gotten there (except that he fuzzily remembered Batman's gloved fist heading towards his face). He considered himself an expert on the subject, frankly. A master. A connoisseur. He'd woken up in his bed, in the street, and in an asylum (Asylums, now, technically. This place was DEFINITELY not Arkham.)
So when Joker woke up feeling as if something was a bit queer, he was fairly confident that he knew what he was talking about. He was pretty sure he knew what he was talking about.
He moved to scratch his head quizzically, but his left arm...it didn't reach. His lipstick red mouth turned down in confusion. He tried again. Still, his fingers sort of grazed the middle of his forehead. It tickled; he giggled. The laughter only lasted a moment, however, before an even kookier realization started to dawn on him.
Joker sat up, slowly. He was groggier than he was accustomed to, and wondered if this was another concussion. If it was, he hoped someone would be gracious enough to let him in on how that concussion had occurred. He waited for the room to stop spinning quite so much, and for his eyes to not be quite so blurred.
He rubbed his eyes with his other arm, and that worked much better than his left arm. No issues with distance, no sense of the bizarre (of which Joker was intimately familiar with). Joker wasn't yet sure whether that was a relief. Ridiculous was fun, but Joker preferred being at the helm of that particular ship.
His vision didn't need to clear for him to finish piecing together what was disturbing him. After all, he could FEEL it. He wasn't accustomed to his left arm not being in the right place.
The right place? His left shoulder.
It's current location? His stomach.
"Oh, dear me."