This is the worst puppet show ever....

[ha_in_havoc]

In the early afternoon, the clown has been wide awake for many long hours. Wide awake, sitting on the floor, and fussing with the pretty pink mittens Dr. McCoy gave him. Today is a therapy day. Maybe he can get them to take the damn mitten things. Not likely, though. He doesn't even know who his therapy session will be with. It varies. Sometimes it

Comments

[myownluck]

Harvey hasn't laughed at this sad display, not once since the Joker came back with his hands all be-mittened. That has to earn him some self-control points, right? No laughing at all. But he has been watching the show from across the hall, and trying to hide his smile. It's not like there's much else to do around here...

[ha_in_havoc]

Oh, he's noticed Harvey watching. He hasn't said much about it. In fact, he hasn't said much at all since being hindered and chastised by his doctor. Since having Luke actually try to connect with him, more than anything.

He glances over at Harvey now and then, though. Narrows his eyes at that little half hidden smile.
"Enjoying yourself, Harvey?"

[myownluck]

The problem with reduced dependency on the coin -- not all the decisions he makes on his own are good ones.

"Half," he shoots back, doing much worse now at hiding the smile.

[ha_in_havoc]

He's certainly no sad Piero, but he's not smiling beyond the permanent upturn of his scars. The Joker scowls at Harvey. Is everyone around here going to start getting all ballsy now that he's shown a hint of weakness? It never ends.

"They just want to help me. They want me better. That's..ah...that's good of them, since I'll be leaving then.... Where will you be, Harv?"

[edsidlemirth]

Eddie hasn't laughed at any of this, either. His general policy is to ignore that thing on the other end of the hall as much as possible, but the mittens are ridiculous, and so is the idea that the guy was picking at the healing wound he caused. He doesn't laugh, but he will smirk, as he works on maps on graph paper.

[ha_in_havoc]

Eddie Eddie Eddie. This is all your fault, Eddie. Don't think for a moment that he ever forgets that; that he doesn't think about it. He thinks about it a lot. You're paramount on his mind when his skull is bleeding or he remembers why he can't even escape if he wanted to.
He spits on the glass. That's for you, Eddie. Just for you. ... There's blood in it.

[edsidlemirth]

He catches that, out of the corner of his eye, sneers, and lowers his gaze further onto the page. Disgusting thing. Proof that he was watching after all.