[Log] A smile like mine
Characters: OU Dick Grayson/Nightwing, OU Joker
When: Before this.
Where: Abandoned shop.
Summary: Nightwing is possessed with the Joker's personality and receives a face to match.
Warnings: Blood, violence.
The Joker had all the supplies necessary for an ‘extreme make-over’ stowed away inside his coat pockets: greasepaint and more importantly - knives. Tonight "Dickie" was going to learn how to smile. Stepping into an abandoned shop that lined the street, he pulled a chain from the ceiling to illuminate the dusty, unused building. The dressing rooms in back would serve as the perfect place for the "transformation" to come.
Dick was leaning against the wall as the man who's personality he'd recently started sharing slunk in from the doorway. It was clear this was not the self righteous, moralistic man Joker’d had a run in with previously. Oh no this was a 'changed man'. And the twisted smile on his face as the light flipped on was a testament to that. Dust scattered as Dick turned to meet the other man, some scattering in his Raven hair as he peeled himself off the wall.
Kicking the door shut behind him, Joker looked upon the menacing grin with an eye of appraisal. Not a word was spoken as he strode through the scattering dust particles, hands folded behind his back. He paused, looking the man formerly known as Nightwing up and down with keen black eyes. Then, licking his lips, circled him one way and then the other with a murmured "...Mmhmm," under his breath.
Dick raised an eyebrow at the appraisal. The silence never broken accept for Joker's quiet remark, yet body language spoke loudly enough and expressions were worth millions. The look he gave the other man was one of slight amusement but one very much laced with Sinister quality. If it had come to this, the man that lay trapped within was very much gone from the realm of the personality that resides there now.
He paused once more to stand in front of Dick when a gloved hand lashed out suddenly to capture the man's chin, holding it tight as he leaned up quite literally nose to nose, peering into those soulless eyes. "Nope, Dickie's not home." The Joker moved back scarcely an inch, looking over the face he held in his grip. "Listen, if you're gonna run around saying you're me...you're gonna need to do something about that face." He nodded. "Don't worry, I came prepared. This way..." Giving Dick's cheek a slap, he turned and steered him toward the back rooms. The nearest room was small and dark and contained a tarnished cracking mirror and a rusted stool. Good enough. Hastily, he gave Dick a little shove backwards onto the stool and switched on the lights.
"Pushy pushy... Enthusiastic are we hmm? " Dick snarked, his voice finally breaking through the silence in the small dark room. Usually steady fingers twitched--tapping his black jeans in a sporadic rhythm as he leaned back on the rusted stool causing it to emit a deafening screech as it moved. Dick looked up at the Joker in response, those soulless eyes daring him to make a comment as his tongue darted out to touch his lips for a moment.
"He's inside...he's watching…but I have control...besides he needs to see how to really smile ...what it feels like"
It wasn't that a Smirk wasn't commonplace on Dick's face, but this wasn't like any other smirk that had been there before. It was truly twisted, evil in every way and it was about to get a bit more frightening.
That smirk might've been evil, but it was pitiful at best. The face clashed distastefully with his personality, but it would soon be rectified. Pulling off his gloves, Joker stepped around behind Dick, allowing them both a clear view of the mirror. "Oh, he'll learn," he grinned, knowing damn well that Dick was probably squirming with all his might to resurface. "Smile pretty." His fingers were on Dick's face, forcing up the corners of his mouth into a big grin. "Hold it... Now look at me." The stool shrieked as he whirled Nightykins around to face him and began to slap white greasepaint onto his face, smearing and rubbing it all over but not well enough to force it into the natural creases of Dick's face. He had fewer of them than the Joker did, so it wouldn't be quite as effective, but it would be much, much better than it was right now.
Joker was Right, Dick was fighting like a feral animal to try and claw his way back up to the surface but he wasn't strong enough to push this personality aside. No he was not even close. Body staying on the stool but never still, whether it be a dust caked shoe or a tap of his long calloused fingers Dick just never stopped his body's frenetic movements. It was something his body wasn't used to. No Dick Grayson never was fidgety unless he was nervous, and the personality that controlled him now was far from nervous it was anxious--anticipating the coming transformation. The Joker no longer had to tell him to keep his smile in place, as soon as he applied the greasepaint it was in place.
The paint was applied with the hurried expertise of a man who had gone through the motions countless times, looking as though there may have been a bit of method behind all the madness. After white came black. He smeared it into Dick's eyes with his thumbs (hopefully Dick was quick enough to squeeze his eyes shut because the Joker wasn't going to stop for a poked eye), evened it out over the eyelids, and then spit on it to make the colors run. He figured the personality inside Dick knew the motions as well as he did and would shake his head without being told, to make the grease run even more. Next came the fun part. "Ready, Nightykins?" He knew Dickie was in there watching, listening. The straight razor appeared in his hand and he unfolded the blade with a grin and deft flick of his wrist. Taking extra precautions should Dickie actually manage to resurface, the Joker drew close and dropped himself unceremoniously onto Dick's lap.
Dick straightened up and smiled wide as Joker plunked himself onto his now unmoving legs. Oh Dick was fighting now, he was panicking as he saw that razor flick open and felt the weight of joker on his lap. "Do you have to ask?" he grinned staring straight into joker's eyes, both equally as dark as each other yet when he was done that wouldn't be the only thing that was the same about the two.
"You're right. He's so ready, I can tell. Isn't that right? Yeahhh," Joker growled as he took hold of Dick's chin and forced his head to nod along with him. He was grinning madly now and held the razor to the corner of the other man's lips, pausing to relish in the moment before ripping into the soft flesh of Dick's left cheek, blade arcing upward toward the cheekbone. The movement of the razor's sharp edge tearing through skin and tissue was so quick that a second passed before the newly made cut began to bleed. Watching it, the Joker breathed out a satisfied "Aaah...", then shifted the razor into his other hand to do the other side. This time he'd do it slowly and began to drag the razor along Dick's right cheek, holding the man's face tighter to keep it steady, lips smacking as the blood began to trickle over his hand.
Dick didn't dare move as the Joker cut the first side, Blood flowing freely from the severed skin, but inside of his mind he heard dick scream with the pain. Such a disappointment, the Nightwing doth protest too much. Though that was not to say he didn't let out a gasp of pain as dug it into the second, for the first was done far too Quickly to even think of what had been done. As he dug the blade into the right cheek Dick let his tongue dart out to catch the river of blood that flowed into his mouth. Oh how Dick squirmed in him now, the thoughts of the man only furthering the smile on his face. What would his Loved ones think when they saw him? Would they scream in horror? Or would they just look away in disgust? Dickie, would Dickie cry when he saw himself… oh he hoped he would, no he was counting on it. Pretty Boy Grayson turned into a Joker...oh if Bruce could see how far his Boy had fallen. Yet the mighty always fell Didn't they?
Once the other cheek was carved to his liking, the Joker leaned back to admire his work, turning Dick's head this way and that. "Now there's a pretty face," he declared and then threw back his head, laughing maniacally. But it wasn't finished yet. No no no. There was still one thing left to do. Or maybe two. Raising his hand to his own lips, he licked at the blood dripping over his knuckles, tongue trailing up the blade of the razor like a lollipop before folding it up and stashing it into his pocket. His hand emerged with something else this time, a tub of red greasepaint. He applied it over the fresh wounds on Dick's face, smearing it up with the running blood for a most beautifully gruesome effect. "Ready to see now, hmm? I bet you are." Jumping up from Dick's lap, he spun the stool around to face the mirror with a screeching halt. "TADAA!"
"You had to go and outdo yourself didn't you." Dick grinned touching the scars and turning his head from side to side admiring them before tilting his head back to look at Joker. "I think Timmy-Boy'll like it… Don't you?" Licking some of the blood from his lips and teeth he looked as if to him it tasted more like cherry sauce than the metallic taste of blood. Reaching up to his Jet black hair he looked up at joker's own faded green and raised an eyebrow before getting a mischievous look on that already grinning face.
The Joker was eying the hair with disapproval as well. "You got something for that?”
Dick nodded pulling a bag from his pocket and tossing it to him. "Dickie wasn't a bat-scout for nothing."
"Oh, you are ahead of the game." A wicked chuckle as he peered into the bag. There wasn't a sink in this room, but he'd find one. Pulling Dickie up from his seat - "This way. C'mon, you got a big night ahead of ya!" And with that, they were off to destroy Dick’s hair for the sake of fashion, cackling all the way.
When: Before this.
Where: Abandoned shop.
Summary: Nightwing is possessed with the Joker's personality and receives a face to match.
Warnings: Blood, violence.
The Joker had all the supplies necessary for an ‘extreme make-over’ stowed away inside his coat pockets: greasepaint and more importantly - knives. Tonight "Dickie" was going to learn how to smile. Stepping into an abandoned shop that lined the street, he pulled a chain from the ceiling to illuminate the dusty, unused building. The dressing rooms in back would serve as the perfect place for the "transformation" to come.
Dick was leaning against the wall as the man who's personality he'd recently started sharing slunk in from the doorway. It was clear this was not the self righteous, moralistic man Joker’d had a run in with previously. Oh no this was a 'changed man'. And the twisted smile on his face as the light flipped on was a testament to that. Dust scattered as Dick turned to meet the other man, some scattering in his Raven hair as he peeled himself off the wall.
Kicking the door shut behind him, Joker looked upon the menacing grin with an eye of appraisal. Not a word was spoken as he strode through the scattering dust particles, hands folded behind his back. He paused, looking the man formerly known as Nightwing up and down with keen black eyes. Then, licking his lips, circled him one way and then the other with a murmured "...Mmhmm," under his breath.
Dick raised an eyebrow at the appraisal. The silence never broken accept for Joker's quiet remark, yet body language spoke loudly enough and expressions were worth millions. The look he gave the other man was one of slight amusement but one very much laced with Sinister quality. If it had come to this, the man that lay trapped within was very much gone from the realm of the personality that resides there now.
He paused once more to stand in front of Dick when a gloved hand lashed out suddenly to capture the man's chin, holding it tight as he leaned up quite literally nose to nose, peering into those soulless eyes. "Nope, Dickie's not home." The Joker moved back scarcely an inch, looking over the face he held in his grip. "Listen, if you're gonna run around saying you're me...you're gonna need to do something about that face." He nodded. "Don't worry, I came prepared. This way..." Giving Dick's cheek a slap, he turned and steered him toward the back rooms. The nearest room was small and dark and contained a tarnished cracking mirror and a rusted stool. Good enough. Hastily, he gave Dick a little shove backwards onto the stool and switched on the lights.
"Pushy pushy... Enthusiastic are we hmm? " Dick snarked, his voice finally breaking through the silence in the small dark room. Usually steady fingers twitched--tapping his black jeans in a sporadic rhythm as he leaned back on the rusted stool causing it to emit a deafening screech as it moved. Dick looked up at the Joker in response, those soulless eyes daring him to make a comment as his tongue darted out to touch his lips for a moment.
"He's inside...he's watching…but I have control...besides he needs to see how to really smile ...what it feels like"
It wasn't that a Smirk wasn't commonplace on Dick's face, but this wasn't like any other smirk that had been there before. It was truly twisted, evil in every way and it was about to get a bit more frightening.
That smirk might've been evil, but it was pitiful at best. The face clashed distastefully with his personality, but it would soon be rectified. Pulling off his gloves, Joker stepped around behind Dick, allowing them both a clear view of the mirror. "Oh, he'll learn," he grinned, knowing damn well that Dick was probably squirming with all his might to resurface. "Smile pretty." His fingers were on Dick's face, forcing up the corners of his mouth into a big grin. "Hold it... Now look at me." The stool shrieked as he whirled Nightykins around to face him and began to slap white greasepaint onto his face, smearing and rubbing it all over but not well enough to force it into the natural creases of Dick's face. He had fewer of them than the Joker did, so it wouldn't be quite as effective, but it would be much, much better than it was right now.
Joker was Right, Dick was fighting like a feral animal to try and claw his way back up to the surface but he wasn't strong enough to push this personality aside. No he was not even close. Body staying on the stool but never still, whether it be a dust caked shoe or a tap of his long calloused fingers Dick just never stopped his body's frenetic movements. It was something his body wasn't used to. No Dick Grayson never was fidgety unless he was nervous, and the personality that controlled him now was far from nervous it was anxious--anticipating the coming transformation. The Joker no longer had to tell him to keep his smile in place, as soon as he applied the greasepaint it was in place.
The paint was applied with the hurried expertise of a man who had gone through the motions countless times, looking as though there may have been a bit of method behind all the madness. After white came black. He smeared it into Dick's eyes with his thumbs (hopefully Dick was quick enough to squeeze his eyes shut because the Joker wasn't going to stop for a poked eye), evened it out over the eyelids, and then spit on it to make the colors run. He figured the personality inside Dick knew the motions as well as he did and would shake his head without being told, to make the grease run even more. Next came the fun part. "Ready, Nightykins?" He knew Dickie was in there watching, listening. The straight razor appeared in his hand and he unfolded the blade with a grin and deft flick of his wrist. Taking extra precautions should Dickie actually manage to resurface, the Joker drew close and dropped himself unceremoniously onto Dick's lap.
Dick straightened up and smiled wide as Joker plunked himself onto his now unmoving legs. Oh Dick was fighting now, he was panicking as he saw that razor flick open and felt the weight of joker on his lap. "Do you have to ask?" he grinned staring straight into joker's eyes, both equally as dark as each other yet when he was done that wouldn't be the only thing that was the same about the two.
"You're right. He's so ready, I can tell. Isn't that right? Yeahhh," Joker growled as he took hold of Dick's chin and forced his head to nod along with him. He was grinning madly now and held the razor to the corner of the other man's lips, pausing to relish in the moment before ripping into the soft flesh of Dick's left cheek, blade arcing upward toward the cheekbone. The movement of the razor's sharp edge tearing through skin and tissue was so quick that a second passed before the newly made cut began to bleed. Watching it, the Joker breathed out a satisfied "Aaah...", then shifted the razor into his other hand to do the other side. This time he'd do it slowly and began to drag the razor along Dick's right cheek, holding the man's face tighter to keep it steady, lips smacking as the blood began to trickle over his hand.
Dick didn't dare move as the Joker cut the first side, Blood flowing freely from the severed skin, but inside of his mind he heard dick scream with the pain. Such a disappointment, the Nightwing doth protest too much. Though that was not to say he didn't let out a gasp of pain as dug it into the second, for the first was done far too Quickly to even think of what had been done. As he dug the blade into the right cheek Dick let his tongue dart out to catch the river of blood that flowed into his mouth. Oh how Dick squirmed in him now, the thoughts of the man only furthering the smile on his face. What would his Loved ones think when they saw him? Would they scream in horror? Or would they just look away in disgust? Dickie, would Dickie cry when he saw himself… oh he hoped he would, no he was counting on it. Pretty Boy Grayson turned into a Joker...oh if Bruce could see how far his Boy had fallen. Yet the mighty always fell Didn't they?
Once the other cheek was carved to his liking, the Joker leaned back to admire his work, turning Dick's head this way and that. "Now there's a pretty face," he declared and then threw back his head, laughing maniacally. But it wasn't finished yet. No no no. There was still one thing left to do. Or maybe two. Raising his hand to his own lips, he licked at the blood dripping over his knuckles, tongue trailing up the blade of the razor like a lollipop before folding it up and stashing it into his pocket. His hand emerged with something else this time, a tub of red greasepaint. He applied it over the fresh wounds on Dick's face, smearing it up with the running blood for a most beautifully gruesome effect. "Ready to see now, hmm? I bet you are." Jumping up from Dick's lap, he spun the stool around to face the mirror with a screeching halt. "TADAA!"
"You had to go and outdo yourself didn't you." Dick grinned touching the scars and turning his head from side to side admiring them before tilting his head back to look at Joker. "I think Timmy-Boy'll like it… Don't you?" Licking some of the blood from his lips and teeth he looked as if to him it tasted more like cherry sauce than the metallic taste of blood. Reaching up to his Jet black hair he looked up at joker's own faded green and raised an eyebrow before getting a mischievous look on that already grinning face.
The Joker was eying the hair with disapproval as well. "You got something for that?”
Dick nodded pulling a bag from his pocket and tossing it to him. "Dickie wasn't a bat-scout for nothing."
"Oh, you are ahead of the game." A wicked chuckle as he peered into the bag. There wasn't a sink in this room, but he'd find one. Pulling Dickie up from his seat - "This way. C'mon, you got a big night ahead of ya!" And with that, they were off to destroy Dick’s hair for the sake of fashion, cackling all the way.