"So…hostile. I haven’t even done anything…”



She is bouncing on the balls of her feet, an excitable child promised a day out at the zoo, overstimulated and unsure which animal to see first. The answer is all of them, but there needs to be some sort of organisation or else it’s just anarchy.

                      “Well, Mr. J…”

A pause for breath. If she isn’t careful she’ll get the hiccups. It’s been a long time since he was in good spirits. May as well make hay while the sun shines.

                       ”I wanna go out on the town and paint it red, black and green.”

Ideas are bursting in her mind like fireworks on the fourth of July. Arson? Explosions? Perhaps a good ol’ fashioned hold up just for the sheer joy of it.


He watches her little bouncy ball display, amused. She does remind him of children’s toys in many ways. She has a merry-go-round, see-saw quality to her. Wind her up and watch her go. It’s fun. 

"Decent colours, I’ll grant ya…"  

He folds his arms across his chest. “Been awhile since we had a good old fashioned bloodbath.”

You find us funny Messire Marquis, do you not? A source of amusement. Is that no so? With our pretty clothes, and our convoluted circumlocations—and our little silliness of manner and behavior. And perhaps we are funny. But you must never imagine,” he continued, “That just because something is funny, Messire Marquis, it is not also dangerous.
Mr Croup, Neverwhere


[She giggled. Their relationship had changed so much over the years, shifted from love to hate to indifference and now…who knew anymore. The painted clown would always have a place with her, though. Hard to completely break away when your creator and addiction of choice are one and the same.]

"Been a while. I heard all kinds of whispers on the underground. Can never rely on rumors."

[Clicking her tongue, she approached him, head tilted as if in study.]

"Well. You always taught me when things got too quiet it was time to shake things up. Wanna play?"

          “”Mm. What’re you thinkin’…”

And he can’t help but g r i n .

          “My little caboose…”

A pink tongue drags over a ragged red lip, before settling in the crook of his mouth, makes him look like a five year trying to unravel a complex problem.

        “Always interest…in your little…ideas.”




    [Kori manages a small smile at the former half of his statement. Oh, yes, she had teeth and claws… and a few other things he should probably look out for. The smile remains for the latter portion; she didn’t doubt that a sick bastard like him would get off on that kind of thing. Still, the princess knew that any sort of contact with the Joker was treading on thin ice, and she certainly didn’t want to try her luck.]

          “I’m a big girl, I can escort myself. Thank you, though.”

    [The sentiment was a formality, if there was such thing as formality when it came to the Joker. In truth, she didn’t want his goons anywhere near her — certainly not close enough to touch her. That in itself would be a tip-off that something was off about her beyond her bold nature, which was the last thing anyone needed to know.]

Some people just couldn’t take a hint. The clown let out a puff of air, something between a sigh and a huff.

      “Doll…” he tries again, politely, (suh-weet as apple pie"This is, uh…temporarily…a civilian free zone. Don’t worry, we’ll give it right back, soon as we’re done with it. But in the mean time, I really…”

Dark eyes fix on her like they want to burn her alive.


He sucks on his tongue for a second.

     ”Gotta insist you get off’a the premises.”

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