[LOG] 09-30 Joker Mad Hatter

[madhatterholle]

Who: The Joker and the Mad Hatter
When: Backdated to September 30th
Where: Hatter's place
Rating: PG-13 - R for possible references to violence
Warnings: Joker and Hatter.
Summary: Joker goes to be a concerned person to Hatter after Hatter decides to make napalm with his own blood.

Comments

[madhatterholle]

"Not me," the Hatter whispered, before continuing in a normal tone, "I wanted to see what would happen if the Baa-aa-aaa-a-a-aaatmaa-a-aaaaa-aa-an ingested the substance... and was lit on fire." Rolling the word - such an interesting work, an oxymoron in and of it's self, a bat couldn't be a man, not ever - the Hatter lifted his slashed wrist and lapped at the drying blood with his tongue, like a cat grooming it's self.

The movement with his injured arm triggered something - something strange, like rocks climbing up his arm, slow and progressive, what was it? He didn't like it. Grabbing onto his upper arm, as though by blocking the veins, he could block that feeling - he didn't like it, what was it? - he mad a few small, distressed noises, before rolling up his sleeve again, as though he could see the lumps, the things trailing up his arm, yet he saw nothing.

"Do you see that?" he whispered to the Joker, grabbing the man's hand and clapping it onto his own arm, as though he could feel the sensation, as well.

[allthisviolence]

"Are you -- you little devil," he was grinning now, "I knew I liked the way you think." He wasn't sure a plan like this would work, but he was always down with a little experimentation, and setting the Bat on fire? With intentions as good as that, there was no way Joker could stay mad at the Hatter. Anger was a useless emotion anyway, he reminded himself. Best to keep a happy face.

When the Mad Hatter grabbed his hand, he wasn't sure how to respond. He had no aversion to touch, but he wasn't used to other people coming up and touching him like that, and his hand tensed a little on the Mad Hatter's skin; he went to withdraw it, but then stopped, letting it rest against the other man's arm for a minute. He cocked his head to the side when 'Hatter asked the question, responding, "As interesting as I'm sure it would be, I don't see with my hands, 'Hatter. See what?"

[madhatterholle]

"I haven't a clue," the Hatter said with a serene smile, changing course. Ignore that, ignore it and it'll go away, yes, they'll give up if attention is not given.

Of course, now he was unhappily aware of the fact that, it hurt. Was that what he felt? Very odd. Using his other hand, he poked at one of the cuts on his arms experimentally, digging a fingernail into the cut, pinching at the pieces of skin.

Ok, that was pain, yes. When he got the tip of his finger under the skin, yeah that was pain, skin being stretched, fresh blood, he reached fro the jar, just in case he had missed the quota.

[allthisviolence]

The Joker let his hand slide off the Mad Hatter's arm at that, and watched as the other man fingered his own cuts, playing with the blood. He smirked. Couldn't say he hadn't done similar things, but the Hatter was at risk of bleeding out at this rate, and he was worthless dead.

"Does it hurt?" he asked casually, sounding less concerned and more intrigued, but still a little peeved that his friend here had such weak self-preservation. Again, though ... he couldn't say his own were much better.

He had a lot in common with this guy.

[madhatterholle]

The Hatter still had to think about that for a moment or so, before lifting bloody fingers to his face, and drawing. On his mouth. Looking back at the Joker, he was smiling without moving a single facial muscle.

Monkey see...

...Monkey distract. If Joker acknowledged pain, as well, well, that made the pain real, didn't it?

[allthisviolence]

The Joker grinned wider than he had before, the pressure from the edges of his lips tugging on the gruesome scars. "A keen likeness," he said, commenting on the Mad Hatter's face-paint.

"But that isn't how I got these scars, friend." Within a second he had the Mad Hatter's face in his hands, and his trusty switchblade wedged between the other man's lips. He didn't want to cut him, really. Oh, he loved the feel of carving flesh, but he had come here to make sure the Hatter wasn't bleeding out and dying; slicing his face would be counter-productive.

He just wanted to see what the other would do.