manofmyword: From behind, in the suit, holding a knife. (Default)
The deck of Jokers keeps on enchanting. It takes a few days. The ones with various sweethearts get various visits.

Slowly, everybody's aura builds up.

They're not just less powerful than the Bells'; they're different. Joker auras don't tell you they're attached to magic and power; it's not 'look at me, I'm important' or 'look at me, I'm magical' but 'look at me', the end.

Except that that is not the end at all.

Their auras track emotions, like the Bells', but far more responsively. They can be whimsical one second and terrifying the next; they can laugh while their auras cry and cry while their auras laugh. It's all in how you play it.

The initial differences are subtle. Beast's aura can make him seem more human, or more beastly, whichever form he's in. The others of variable species don't seem to do anything similar, at least not to nearly the same degree. Ghosty's is the most interesting, because she can show her aura without manifesting physically; suddenly she has a presence even when she technically doesn't.

Micaiah's aura is the first one to manifest an obviously unique feature, although 'unique' isn't quite accurate, because after a few more hours of spellcasting they all have one:

A soundtrack.

Pretty soon, they're all cuddled up in one of the guest rooms and the music is going strong. With the whole pile of them together, somebody's aura will start playing a song and the rest will either pick it up or add embellishments. It's tremendous fun.
manofmyword: Hands, seen through jail cell bars. (⑼ the store by the dungeon)
There is a man in the bar, sitting alone at a table for four with the Observation Window directly on his left, close enough to touch. He has an enormous glass jar of jelly beans and he is methodically sorting them by colour into a number of smaller bowls laid out in front of him.

Other things about him that might come off as odd include: the fact that he is wearing a ferociously lilac button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows under a muted green vest; the fact that he is not wearing any shoes, and his socks don't match, one of them yellow with a black pattern of bats and the other black with little yellow smiley faces; and, finally, the scars on his face, extending the sides of his mouth into a permanent crooked smile.

He might welcome company. Or he might not. It's not always easy to tell.
manofmyword: Sitting calmly on the floor, leaning against a wall. (⑺ gonna enjoy this)
In the week following the Joker's escape, things are quiet. No sightings or exploits make the news. As far as anyone can tell, he vanished out of his cell overnight and then left town.

He didn't leave town, of course.

At exactly the time they would have had their next session, down to the minute, he breaks into Harleen Quinzel's apartment—politely locking the door again behind him—and settles onto the couch in her living room to wait until she gets home.

It takes a while. Pretty soon, he curls up and goes to sleep.
manofmyword: From behind, in the suit, holding a knife. (Default)
There is a Jotunn in the bar, wearing a blue shirt and green vest, sitting at a table by the Window and humming to himself as he builds a house of cards. A pair of scars trail up from the corner of his mouth, one broad and puckered, the other thinner, hooking into the shape of a smile.

He seems very pleased with himself.
manofmyword: Sitting calmly on the floor, leaning against a wall. (⑺ gonna enjoy this)
He went to sleep after that with a smile on his face, even considering what happened in between.

Then, just to make it even better, he dreamed his way to Milliways again.

Now he has a deck of cards, the comfiest armchair by the fire, and a table just big enough for a cup of coffee and a game of solitaire. Whatever arbitrary force dictates his outfits around here has decreed that tonight he gets the clothes he wore to his interrogation, right down to the green-and-purple socks. He hasn't bothered going up to his room to get a jacket, although he did duck into the bathroom to check his makeup; it's a little smudged, but not worth the bother of a touchup.
manofmyword: From behind, in the suit, holding a knife. (Default)
So, this is the Joker!

He does not follow rules. He does not respect boundaries. A conversation with him is likely to include at least traumatically horrifying lies and quite possibly also violence.

I endeavour to make him as safe as possible despite this, and here's the trick I'm using to pull that off:

  • The Joker comes to Milliways in his dreams. He appears out of thin air somewhere in the main bar area when he arrives, and when he wakes up, he vanishes the same way.

  • You can ask me to disappear him at any time, for any reason, out of any thread I'm having with you, and I will.

  • By default, I will give an OOC warning before any tag in which he acts in a damaging way towards someone (violence, abusive language, explicit discussion of commonly triggering content), and if you would rather avoid that eventuality, I will have him disappear before he gets to it.
    • If you'd rather not receive these warnings, I can skip them; if you have specific content that you want to make sure I warn about, I am happy to oblige; if you have specific content that you just want him vanished for without me bothering you about it first, I can do that too.

    • I will try to give appropriate pre-warnings for all kinds of damaging behaviour, but I am not always good at judging the verbal stuff. If I screw it up, please let me know! The Disappearing Joker Policy is here to protect you and your pups.

Comments, questions, concerns, etc. can be addressed to me (a) in this post, (b) by PM, or (c) at peahenironybath on gmail. Communicate however you are comfortable!
manofmyword: Angry or hopeful. Intense. (⒂ come on i want you to do it)
Tonight, you're all gonna be a part of a social experiment.

Through the magic of diesel fuel and ammonium nitrate, I'm ready right now to blow you all sky-high. If anyone attempts to get off their boat, you all die. Each of you has a remote to blow up the other boat.

At midnight, I blow you all up. If, however, one of you presses the button, I'll let that boat live.

So, who's it gonna be? Harrvey Dent's most wanted scumbag collection – orrr... the sweet and innocent civilians? You choose!

Oh—and you might wanna decide quickly, because the people on the other boat may not be quite - so - noble.

"Oh, y'made it!" the Joker exclaims, turning away from the window overlooking the water. "I'm so—thrilled."

He doesn't sound it. He sounds pissed the fuck off, actually.
manofmyword: From behind, in the suit, holding a knife. (⑻ nothing in his pockets)
At five minutes to five, the Joker is waiting next to a tied-up accountant on top of a large pile of money. This is going to be so much fun.
manofmyword: From behind, in the suit, holding a knife. (Default)
The Joker sits quietly, at first. Until the commotion dies down, until the silence in the room is nearly absolute, and a little longer after that.

Eventually, though, he starts to mutter.

"I want my phone call," he says to his own hands, folded between his knees. "I want it." Looking up at the man stationed by the door, he repeats with emphasis: "I want it! I want my phone call."

(warnings: violence, homophobic abuse)
manofmyword: From behind, in the suit, holding a knife. (Default)
Not many people in Gotham care enough about the Joker at this point to follow him; even fewer would be any good at it if they tried. He doesn't go to much trouble to throw off pursuit on his way home—no more than he has to just to get from point A to point B in broad daylight in the full getup without leaving behind a trail of bewildered and unnerved witnesses.

It's just a quick stop to freshen up, anyway—drop the grenades back in the bathroom cupboard where they belong, change into a jacket whose smooth lines hide rows of mismatched knives instead. He's running out of three different kinds of cheese; it's time to go grocery shopping.
manofmyword: From behind, in the suit, holding a knife. (⑺ going to enjoy this)
Ladies and gentlemen, if you would step right this way.
manofmyword: From behind, in the suit, holding a knife. (⑻ nothing in his pockets)
Risk is what makes life fun.

He takes off his mask and holds it by his left hip, waiting. One second, three, five, ten. One of the guys in the car has seen him before, face-to-face; the other one was recruited over the phone. The trick is going to be getting through this whole job without saying a word until it doesn't matter anymore.
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