manofmyword | (no subject)

(no subject)

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.

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"I dunno," he says. "What is it?"

"Not candy."

Tony doesn't recognize the taste of eggplant.

--This is about the time Tony gets a look at the Joker's grin, and blinks.

"Some of 'em aren't," he says, with a cheerful grin that is likely to be deliberate. Especially considering how he tilts his head just so, putting the scars in the light.

"That's the fun part! You never know what you're gonna get. Wanna 'nother one?"

"Iiii dunno," Tony says, eyeing the man and the beams with about equal dubiousness. "I like my candy to taste like fuckin' candy."

"Mm." He shrugs acknowledgment. "Suit y'self," he says amicably, and picks a bean out of the jar without looking. Nom!

". . . What is it?" he asks, unable to help himself.

"Not sure..." he says thoughtfully. "Mmmm. Pineapple, that's it."

"Wonder if it's made out of real pineapple," he says with a smirk.

'Cause you know what they say about pineapple.

Innocently: "Dunno."

"You'd probably need to eat more to be sure."

"Mmm, but how do I find more, is the question."

"The yellow ones aren't all pineapple?"

"Nope!"

"What else are they?"

"Everything," he says brightly.

"Everything?"

You can read anything you like into his tone. In fact, he invites you to do so.

"Everything," he confirms, grinning the grin of someone who gets both the joke you meant and the one you didn't.

"No wonder that other tasted weird," he mutters.

He giggles.

"Siddown," he invites, waving to the three empty chairs at his table. "Have s'more. Maybe you'll get a good one."

Smirking: "I've heard that one before."

But he does sit down, swigging his beer and slouching down with his knees apart.

"I don't know what you mean," he says airily.

Tony gives him a look, and then snickers.

"Sure you don't."

He winks, picks a jelly bean out of a bowl of pale colours, and crunches it.

"And the verdict is . . . ?"

His tongue flicks out over his lower lip.

He grins.

"You'll never guess."