[Thread] It's so hard not to hate the things I see.
Characters: The Joker; Haaaaarley Quinn
Where: The complex.
When: After this.
What: Harley drools over the Joker and his wounds and possibly attempts to help him.
Warnings: The usual. Blood, possible violence. Possible hair-pulling.
Notes: This thread is closed to J and Harley but if you're Dexter-mun, feel free to have Dexter stumble upon and freak out over any spilled blood in the hallway.
The world was like a snow globe and sometimes, when there came a lull, it needed to be shaken. Today he'd done just that. It wasn't a big shake, just a tiny one, but enough to keep the particles in motion. With the passing of today's earlier excitement and bloodshed, the Joker had escaped Red Arrow and the Robins into the city-sized complex. It was a place large enough that he could vanish without so much as a few scant traces of blood left behind. Now he roamed freely through empty hallways, surrounded by the near-silent hum of electrical power and disjointed scrapes and shuffles of his own movements. His nerves were on edge, pulled taut like wire waiting to be tripped by even the slightest disturbance. In his state of hyperawareness, the Joker's mind processed no internalized thoughts, only sensations that filtered in from the external environment. Pistol in hand, any sound or movement that might indicate the presence of another being would instantly alert him to action.
However, those actions wouldn't be driven by fear. The Joker knew no fear; he simply knew how to survive, even when chancing death like he so often did. His injuries were still bleeding and swelling, but he couldn't go down to the medical bay because the place would be teeming with vigilantes. Instead, upon eventually locating a replicator, he stopped to order himself a few necessary items for extracting the arrowhead lodged in his left shoulder and for patching up a few of his wounds. He stood silently with back turned to the hallway but with senses still trained razor keen on all the things he couldn't see.
Where: The complex.
When: After this.
What: Harley drools over the Joker and his wounds and possibly attempts to help him.
Warnings: The usual. Blood, possible violence. Possible hair-pulling.
Notes: This thread is closed to J and Harley but if you're Dexter-mun, feel free to have Dexter stumble upon and freak out over any spilled blood in the hallway.
The world was like a snow globe and sometimes, when there came a lull, it needed to be shaken. Today he'd done just that. It wasn't a big shake, just a tiny one, but enough to keep the particles in motion. With the passing of today's earlier excitement and bloodshed, the Joker had escaped Red Arrow and the Robins into the city-sized complex. It was a place large enough that he could vanish without so much as a few scant traces of blood left behind. Now he roamed freely through empty hallways, surrounded by the near-silent hum of electrical power and disjointed scrapes and shuffles of his own movements. His nerves were on edge, pulled taut like wire waiting to be tripped by even the slightest disturbance. In his state of hyperawareness, the Joker's mind processed no internalized thoughts, only sensations that filtered in from the external environment. Pistol in hand, any sound or movement that might indicate the presence of another being would instantly alert him to action.
However, those actions wouldn't be driven by fear. The Joker knew no fear; he simply knew how to survive, even when chancing death like he so often did. His injuries were still bleeding and swelling, but he couldn't go down to the medical bay because the place would be teeming with vigilantes. Instead, upon eventually locating a replicator, he stopped to order himself a few necessary items for extracting the arrowhead lodged in his left shoulder and for patching up a few of his wounds. He stood silently with back turned to the hallway but with senses still trained razor keen on all the things he couldn't see.