A New Variable to the Equation- Part II: Off to Oz; Chapter Two: The Emerald City (III)
Authors: Paigery (obi_luvr ) and Amadeus (regularbean ).
Disclaimer: We own NOTHING.
At first, the Joker thought that Batman was about to scratch the DVD disc with the tip of one of his batarangs, or snap it clean in two with his uncompromising strength. If the vigilante had done that, the Joker would have - without any regard to his injuries-leapt up and took a grab of one of his knives and slashed the hero straight across what part of his face was exposed. The Joker’s muscles were already beginning to tense, fully ready to spring into action-but then he froze, a cold wash of surprise feeling like a bucket of water had been dumped over his head, as Batman proceeded to begin to pop the disc into the player. No way. Just no way. Oh, I’ve really gone cuckoo now!
Incredulous, the Joker stared at Batman, for so long it felt as if the expression were becoming permanently melded into his face. At the quip, the Joker was still staring. His tongue writhed within his gaping mouth, instinctively seeking his scars to slide across.
‘I really could stare at you all night, pretty. You’re quite interesting, for a rat…’ thought the Joker, lively green eyes narrowing like the sinking sun at the other man’s expression, before looking to the television set. Well…it was one of his favorite flicks. He’d have a hard time refusing to watch it, even if ‘Gotham’s savior’ (ex savior now, maybe? They didn’t much appreciate him anymore) was sitting right there in his company like some sort of (he felt like retching…okay, maybe not, but it was an unsettling thought…) friend!
“I’ll watch it,” the Joker stated quickly, defensively. “’Cause it’s a good movie, so good it can manage not to be ruined completely by your presence alone. You are so stiff. Lighten up, will ya?” He made a roll of his eyes, standoffishly leaning as far away from the Bat as possible.
Ha. I’m watching a movie with Batman. Nice. Bet ya nobody else has ever been able to say that. Nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah-naaaaah!
~*!*~
Batman responded to the Joker's flustered retort with little more than a bemused smirk tugging ever so slightly against the stoic facade of his scowling guise.
So there they sat--mortal enemies and virtual opposites--side by side in the dark solace of an abandoned apartment. At the beginning of the film, Bruce constantly remained on guard. His frame was still rigid; ready to leap at the slightest alarm. His cobalt gaze constantly danced from the flashing screen to the man next to him like clockwork--television, Joker, television, Joker, and back again. About an hour later, the lethargy began to set in and the black-clad vigilante shifted only once from his initial position to slump against his un-injured side (which happened to be closest to the maniacal clown).
And not long after that, he allowed his rampant thoughts free reign over his exhausted mind like a million fireflies drifting from one corner of this logic to the next. Mostly, he thought about the Joker and the events that had transpired to lead him to this very position. Admitting his eyes to drift shut, which were now devoid of their black-smokey coating after he rubbed his face clean earlier, he replayed the entire scene behind the privacy of his own retinas. Soon, the room around him seemed to disappear--the sound of the TV fading away into little more than a dull crackling as he focused on the sound of the other man's breathing.
When the images of his hands around the Joker's pale, swan neck morphed into those of his lips crushing against that vermilion grin; smothering those shrill giggles against his mouth--
Bruce shook his head sharply as if trying to lodge the scenarios from his brain like excess water in his ears. Opening his eyes once more to the poorly-lit room, he stared at the side of the jester's face; watching how the iridescent light from the television screen cast awkward shadows over the sharp planes of his complexion.
~*!*~
The Joker felt rather proud of himself, for he had been able to get his timing just so that every time he glanced at the man next to him, the vigilante was looking away, and vice versa. It was actually quite the feat, in the Joker’s incredibly twisted and skewed point of view. Although, about an hour through the movie, his neck was beginning to become sore from such strains. One arm of his stayed firmly wrapped around his cringing middle the entire time, but despite his injured state the Joker still carried an impressionable and unforgettable presence.
The Joker had probably seen this move seven times before-so while “watching” the film, he too was given and opportunity to think about other things. First, his thoughts went to those two assassins and how badly he’d kick their sorry asses if they ever crossed paths again. The next thing he thought of was smashing a glass bottle on the vigilante’s ‘Bat-Crotch’. The Joker made a snicker to himself at that, and to any observer that chuckle would have looked bizarrely inexplicable. Then he thought of how the Bat had completely rejected that advance (although, the Joker thought that the gesture had been mocking rather than serious), and also had completely rejected the suggestion of a dance. As for all these points of denial, instances that inwardly made the Joker burn with angry emotion, the Joker did feel somewhat vindicated when he thought about how he had pushed the knight away from him so harshly when the other’s hands had lingered on his skin earlier after he had been so thoroughly examined. Although, the Joker wasn’t sure at all of what he had been ‘denying’ the Bat in that instance. Above all existed the fact, though, was that he had touched Batman in a way that wasn’t their usual means of communication and checks and balances, their norm being violence. The Joker had clung to him like he couldn’t live without him, and he had kissed his hand too. He probably gave me cooties the infamously devious criminal mastermind wanted to say, accusingly as he seemed to shrink inwards at this thought.
Thoughts spiraling more so out of control than usual, the clown poised a finger at his lip, threatening to begin to chew on it. For the first time in just over an hour, the film was beginning to take his full attention. In fact, when something exciting happened (specifically, when the swamp beast so villainously kidnapped the damsel in distress and forcibly whisked her off to his underwater lair) the Joker tensed and made a little sound of excitement.
Suddenly then he became almost uncomfortably aware of that looming, most likely brooding, presence not so far away form him. The Joker stole a shifty glance over at his heroic counterpart, only to find that Batman was already staring at him in the first place. Feeling as if he had been caught red-handed (for what he didn’t even know) the agent of chaos peered through the shield of darkness back at Batman. Quickly that basic need came to him, the one that told him to lash out in such situations.
“And you’re staring at me because….?” asked the killer, bluntly and confrontationally.
~*!*~
The Dark Knight didn't even blink; brilliant sapphire eyes aglow with some strange emotion flittering so chastely across his mien--a fleeting perplexity. He rolled his shoulders back, avoiding the strain building along the curve of his neck and upper back. It was so unnerving--a silent battle of wills--staring into those poisonous green eyes. The Joker was a rabid dog. You never made direct eye contact with a mad dog... Bruce lifted his chin up a fraction of an inch, an old flair of incorrupt confidence contorting his features; filling his presence.
‘And you’re staring at me because?’
"The same reason you're staring at me." he answered in almost as much disjointed logic as the murderous psychopath no more than two feet away from him. There was never any rhyme or rhythm to the Joker's logic. So why did there have to be with Bruce's?
'No! You are BATMAN!!!' his alter-ego hissed. True, (once again) Batman would have never stooped to this level. Hell, he would have never given the madman an opportunity to play his games. Batman would have beat the sick bastard unconscious and then left him at the front door to Lieutenant Gordon's police unit much like an early Christmas present; bloodied and most likely still laughing.
But he wasn't Batman right now, was he? No, this was Bruce playing dress-up--pretending to be the big bad wolf when really he was little more than a mortal being; flesh and blood. And the Joker knew that, too. He had to know. Batman was a symbol. And symbols couldn't love or think...or bleed.
The movie, now forgotten, similar to the rampant thoughts clanging around the inside of his head like metal washers in an empty coffee can, allowed Bruce's curiosity free reign of his actions. There was just something he was itching to know, something digging just beneath the surface; something invisible to his otherwise impervious problem solving skills. He sat up slowly, minding the twinges of protest from his stitched wound; his eyes never once leaving the intensity of the other man's gaze (well, glare really).
"Earlier, in the bar. You wanted to dance. Did you mean it?" something peculiar nagged at the edges of his voice.
~*!*~
“You were the one who started it!” the maniacal killer made a loud scoff at his opposite’s response concerning their staring contest, eyes narrowing as if to kick up the intensity of his glare a few notches.
Honestly, who did this man think he was, parading around in a clunky suit of armor as if he were the savior of the entire civilized world? ‘He’s the goddamned Batman1, that’s what’ the Joker corrected himself within his thoughts. ‘Well, he was in the interrogation room at least. And when he saved me from my little fall. Which was by the way, so wheeeee~!’ Shifting where he sat, the harlequin was purely unable to keep from entering his emerald eyes a gleam of something more mischievous. Still, despite any changing expressions, he continued to stare back into Batman’s even (and perhaps challenging) gaze.
Seeing as he was staring at the other man’s eyes so much, nearly threatening to bore a hole through them, the Joker noticed something he hadn’t before. The vigilante’s kohl, it was smeared away. The clown could clearly see the very much human flesh outlining the ocean-like depths of the other man’s vision. How peculiar.
And then came a peculiar question from Batman, one about the dance. Well, the dance that never happened.
“If I didn’t I wouldn’t have asked…” the Joker stated crossly, making a stubborn ‘humph’ sound afterwards. A few more moments of staring befell the two warriors of the night, until the Joker slowly stood up off the bed. His motions had begun as an attempt at a hop, but his injured body simply wouldn’t allow for it.
“The offer, it still stands,” he added, lightly, as if it were inconsequential. But it wasn’t, and even he knew that. He strode (or, made a fair try at doing so) across the room to his gleaming knife collection. But, he actually wasn’t going for his prime weapon of choice. At the moment. What he did go for, however, was tucked away under the table. He lugged the thing out: a record player. Already upon it was a vinyl record. Licking his lips as if savoring it, the vintage smell of the aged machinery, the Joker lowered the needle onto the jet-black disc’s surface. A brief crackle resounded, and then a leisurely trickle of music began to pour forth from the device. It was an old tune, both cheery and begging.2
“See!” he exclaimed, as if he had just proven something monumental, making jaunty steps to the center of the dingy room, “I told you I meant it. ‘Cause, I’m a man of my word…ha.” After that singular dark chuckle escaped from him, the Joker thrust out his hand in mid-air for the bat to take, shaking it just as he had back at the bar.
~*!*~
1: The ‘goddamn Batman’ is reference some may be aware of, and others not. Here’s the explanation! It’s from a panel from one of the Batman comics (All Star Batman and Robin the Boy Wonder by Frank Miller), and people have poking fun at this quote ever since the thing was published! Here’s a link to the picture! The boy in the picture is Robin, by the way. Funny, isn’t it?
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v101/snailfreak/goddamn_batman.gif
2: For the especially curious, I had a certain oldies song in mind during the dancing scene. It’s called ‘Come Go With Me’ by the Del-Vikings. Here’s a link so you can take a listen to it! I recommend listening to this song while reading the next chapter, especially ^^
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P1eU_lDQaVM
Venture onwards for more!
Disclaimer: We own NOTHING.
At first, the Joker thought that Batman was about to scratch the DVD disc with the tip of one of his batarangs, or snap it clean in two with his uncompromising strength. If the vigilante had done that, the Joker would have - without any regard to his injuries-leapt up and took a grab of one of his knives and slashed the hero straight across what part of his face was exposed. The Joker’s muscles were already beginning to tense, fully ready to spring into action-but then he froze, a cold wash of surprise feeling like a bucket of water had been dumped over his head, as Batman proceeded to begin to pop the disc into the player. No way. Just no way. Oh, I’ve really gone cuckoo now!
Incredulous, the Joker stared at Batman, for so long it felt as if the expression were becoming permanently melded into his face. At the quip, the Joker was still staring. His tongue writhed within his gaping mouth, instinctively seeking his scars to slide across.
‘I really could stare at you all night, pretty. You’re quite interesting, for a rat…’ thought the Joker, lively green eyes narrowing like the sinking sun at the other man’s expression, before looking to the television set. Well…it was one of his favorite flicks. He’d have a hard time refusing to watch it, even if ‘Gotham’s savior’ (ex savior now, maybe? They didn’t much appreciate him anymore) was sitting right there in his company like some sort of (he felt like retching…okay, maybe not, but it was an unsettling thought…) friend!
“I’ll watch it,” the Joker stated quickly, defensively. “’Cause it’s a good movie, so good it can manage not to be ruined completely by your presence alone. You are so stiff. Lighten up, will ya?” He made a roll of his eyes, standoffishly leaning as far away from the Bat as possible.
Ha. I’m watching a movie with Batman. Nice. Bet ya nobody else has ever been able to say that. Nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah-naaaaah!
~*!*~
Batman responded to the Joker's flustered retort with little more than a bemused smirk tugging ever so slightly against the stoic facade of his scowling guise.
So there they sat--mortal enemies and virtual opposites--side by side in the dark solace of an abandoned apartment. At the beginning of the film, Bruce constantly remained on guard. His frame was still rigid; ready to leap at the slightest alarm. His cobalt gaze constantly danced from the flashing screen to the man next to him like clockwork--television, Joker, television, Joker, and back again. About an hour later, the lethargy began to set in and the black-clad vigilante shifted only once from his initial position to slump against his un-injured side (which happened to be closest to the maniacal clown).
And not long after that, he allowed his rampant thoughts free reign over his exhausted mind like a million fireflies drifting from one corner of this logic to the next. Mostly, he thought about the Joker and the events that had transpired to lead him to this very position. Admitting his eyes to drift shut, which were now devoid of their black-smokey coating after he rubbed his face clean earlier, he replayed the entire scene behind the privacy of his own retinas. Soon, the room around him seemed to disappear--the sound of the TV fading away into little more than a dull crackling as he focused on the sound of the other man's breathing.
When the images of his hands around the Joker's pale, swan neck morphed into those of his lips crushing against that vermilion grin; smothering those shrill giggles against his mouth--
Bruce shook his head sharply as if trying to lodge the scenarios from his brain like excess water in his ears. Opening his eyes once more to the poorly-lit room, he stared at the side of the jester's face; watching how the iridescent light from the television screen cast awkward shadows over the sharp planes of his complexion.
~*!*~
The Joker felt rather proud of himself, for he had been able to get his timing just so that every time he glanced at the man next to him, the vigilante was looking away, and vice versa. It was actually quite the feat, in the Joker’s incredibly twisted and skewed point of view. Although, about an hour through the movie, his neck was beginning to become sore from such strains. One arm of his stayed firmly wrapped around his cringing middle the entire time, but despite his injured state the Joker still carried an impressionable and unforgettable presence.
The Joker had probably seen this move seven times before-so while “watching” the film, he too was given and opportunity to think about other things. First, his thoughts went to those two assassins and how badly he’d kick their sorry asses if they ever crossed paths again. The next thing he thought of was smashing a glass bottle on the vigilante’s ‘Bat-Crotch’. The Joker made a snicker to himself at that, and to any observer that chuckle would have looked bizarrely inexplicable. Then he thought of how the Bat had completely rejected that advance (although, the Joker thought that the gesture had been mocking rather than serious), and also had completely rejected the suggestion of a dance. As for all these points of denial, instances that inwardly made the Joker burn with angry emotion, the Joker did feel somewhat vindicated when he thought about how he had pushed the knight away from him so harshly when the other’s hands had lingered on his skin earlier after he had been so thoroughly examined. Although, the Joker wasn’t sure at all of what he had been ‘denying’ the Bat in that instance. Above all existed the fact, though, was that he had touched Batman in a way that wasn’t their usual means of communication and checks and balances, their norm being violence. The Joker had clung to him like he couldn’t live without him, and he had kissed his hand too. He probably gave me cooties the infamously devious criminal mastermind wanted to say, accusingly as he seemed to shrink inwards at this thought.
Thoughts spiraling more so out of control than usual, the clown poised a finger at his lip, threatening to begin to chew on it. For the first time in just over an hour, the film was beginning to take his full attention. In fact, when something exciting happened (specifically, when the swamp beast so villainously kidnapped the damsel in distress and forcibly whisked her off to his underwater lair) the Joker tensed and made a little sound of excitement.
Suddenly then he became almost uncomfortably aware of that looming, most likely brooding, presence not so far away form him. The Joker stole a shifty glance over at his heroic counterpart, only to find that Batman was already staring at him in the first place. Feeling as if he had been caught red-handed (for what he didn’t even know) the agent of chaos peered through the shield of darkness back at Batman. Quickly that basic need came to him, the one that told him to lash out in such situations.
“And you’re staring at me because….?” asked the killer, bluntly and confrontationally.
~*!*~
The Dark Knight didn't even blink; brilliant sapphire eyes aglow with some strange emotion flittering so chastely across his mien--a fleeting perplexity. He rolled his shoulders back, avoiding the strain building along the curve of his neck and upper back. It was so unnerving--a silent battle of wills--staring into those poisonous green eyes. The Joker was a rabid dog. You never made direct eye contact with a mad dog... Bruce lifted his chin up a fraction of an inch, an old flair of incorrupt confidence contorting his features; filling his presence.
‘And you’re staring at me because?’
"The same reason you're staring at me." he answered in almost as much disjointed logic as the murderous psychopath no more than two feet away from him. There was never any rhyme or rhythm to the Joker's logic. So why did there have to be with Bruce's?
'No! You are BATMAN!!!' his alter-ego hissed. True, (once again) Batman would have never stooped to this level. Hell, he would have never given the madman an opportunity to play his games. Batman would have beat the sick bastard unconscious and then left him at the front door to Lieutenant Gordon's police unit much like an early Christmas present; bloodied and most likely still laughing.
But he wasn't Batman right now, was he? No, this was Bruce playing dress-up--pretending to be the big bad wolf when really he was little more than a mortal being; flesh and blood. And the Joker knew that, too. He had to know. Batman was a symbol. And symbols couldn't love or think...or bleed.
The movie, now forgotten, similar to the rampant thoughts clanging around the inside of his head like metal washers in an empty coffee can, allowed Bruce's curiosity free reign of his actions. There was just something he was itching to know, something digging just beneath the surface; something invisible to his otherwise impervious problem solving skills. He sat up slowly, minding the twinges of protest from his stitched wound; his eyes never once leaving the intensity of the other man's gaze (well, glare really).
"Earlier, in the bar. You wanted to dance. Did you mean it?" something peculiar nagged at the edges of his voice.
~*!*~
“You were the one who started it!” the maniacal killer made a loud scoff at his opposite’s response concerning their staring contest, eyes narrowing as if to kick up the intensity of his glare a few notches.
Honestly, who did this man think he was, parading around in a clunky suit of armor as if he were the savior of the entire civilized world? ‘He’s the goddamned Batman1, that’s what’ the Joker corrected himself within his thoughts. ‘Well, he was in the interrogation room at least. And when he saved me from my little fall. Which was by the way, so wheeeee~!’ Shifting where he sat, the harlequin was purely unable to keep from entering his emerald eyes a gleam of something more mischievous. Still, despite any changing expressions, he continued to stare back into Batman’s even (and perhaps challenging) gaze.
Seeing as he was staring at the other man’s eyes so much, nearly threatening to bore a hole through them, the Joker noticed something he hadn’t before. The vigilante’s kohl, it was smeared away. The clown could clearly see the very much human flesh outlining the ocean-like depths of the other man’s vision. How peculiar.
And then came a peculiar question from Batman, one about the dance. Well, the dance that never happened.
“If I didn’t I wouldn’t have asked…” the Joker stated crossly, making a stubborn ‘humph’ sound afterwards. A few more moments of staring befell the two warriors of the night, until the Joker slowly stood up off the bed. His motions had begun as an attempt at a hop, but his injured body simply wouldn’t allow for it.
“The offer, it still stands,” he added, lightly, as if it were inconsequential. But it wasn’t, and even he knew that. He strode (or, made a fair try at doing so) across the room to his gleaming knife collection. But, he actually wasn’t going for his prime weapon of choice. At the moment. What he did go for, however, was tucked away under the table. He lugged the thing out: a record player. Already upon it was a vinyl record. Licking his lips as if savoring it, the vintage smell of the aged machinery, the Joker lowered the needle onto the jet-black disc’s surface. A brief crackle resounded, and then a leisurely trickle of music began to pour forth from the device. It was an old tune, both cheery and begging.2
“See!” he exclaimed, as if he had just proven something monumental, making jaunty steps to the center of the dingy room, “I told you I meant it. ‘Cause, I’m a man of my word…ha.” After that singular dark chuckle escaped from him, the Joker thrust out his hand in mid-air for the bat to take, shaking it just as he had back at the bar.
~*!*~
1: The ‘goddamn Batman’ is reference some may be aware of, and others not. Here’s the explanation! It’s from a panel from one of the Batman comics (All Star Batman and Robin the Boy Wonder by Frank Miller), and people have poking fun at this quote ever since the thing was published! Here’s a link to the picture! The boy in the picture is Robin, by the way. Funny, isn’t it?
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v101/snailfreak/goddamn_batman.gif
2: For the especially curious, I had a certain oldies song in mind during the dancing scene. It’s called ‘Come Go With Me’ by the Del-Vikings. Here’s a link so you can take a listen to it! I recommend listening to this song while reading the next chapter, especially ^^
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P1eU_lDQaVM
Venture onwards for more!