Twisted Revenge (-Joker-)

[Amelia Raven Blake]

"Take the night off Amelia for Christ's sake! John needs you right now. Dick and I can handle for tonight,"

[/i] Bruce had told her firmly, but Amelia had only grinned replying, "Oh Brucey, you must be crazy to think that I'm going to take the night off." She'd hung up then, grinning like a fool.

That night, without disturbing John, Amelia slipped from their bed and into the bathroom where she tied her hair up and grabbed her silver and gold suit. She ran her fingers across it, she hadn't worn it in a while. She knew that if John found out she'd gone out he'd bind their ankles together in fear of loosing her. She knew he'd never getting over being told that she'd been killed.

Now, she sighed and donned the suit, slipping from her night clothes. Zipping the suit up she ran her fingers through her hair and tied it up in a pony tail, letting only a few strands stay out. They fell into her face and she brushed them away as she slipped the silvery contacts into her eyes. She blinked a few times and drew in a deep breath.

She slipped from the room, casting one last look at the sleeping figure of her husband, blew him a kiss, and then was gone, slipping through the house and out the front door, closing it gently behind her.

Oracle easily climbed a fire escape, onto the roof. She leaped across one after another. She was no Batman, but the homes were close and she was barely able to get across, but made it none the less.

She took a risk and jumped down from one of the buildings - a bad choice. On impact, her ankle did more then just twist, it pretty broke, taking the most of her weight. However, the Oracle didn't stop she just winced and slipped through the shadows. [/blockquote]

[Joker]

Growling softly, Joker paced in front of a dark, empty building. One of the clowns was working on disabling the security alarm while kneeling in front of the store's front doors. It was a technology store - ironic given that they were using technology to break into a technology store - and it held certain items that Joker wanted. No. Needed. Joker needed them. They were things that would help him. Since the day Joker and Harley had found each other, Joker had been obsessively planning. It was beyond just obsession, though. It was almost as bad as his obsession over the Bat. His constant thoughts of how best to destroy the man behind the mask without actually doing him physical damage. That was partly how Joker's thoughts were going - only so much worse. So many ideas of how to show Harley that he most definitely did not like what had happened - what was going on - trampled through his mind. So many ideas of what he could do. So many thoughts. So many images of Gordon writhering in pain - in despair. This was practically how Joker slept at night... Thinking of the same images. The same things he'd scribbled down and stuck around his desk. The words that surrounded him in that room. His room. No one else was allowed in there. He wouldn't let them. It was his...

Just like Harley.

But that was all besides the point. All of it. The current point was that Joker needed something from this shop. It was the only shop he knew of which had what he needed. He needed something to kill the lights from the outside. Not for this place. No. No. He didn't need to with this place. The owner had killed the lights for him, hours before when they'd locked up for the night.

"Done boss."

Joker looked at the clown and grinned before indicating to the doors of the shop. The goon nodded and moved forward to work again. This allowed Joker's thoughts to cloud into more thoughts of how he could break the commissioner. Sneaky had found out information about members of the GCPD. Which ones were close to Gordon. Which ones were corruptable. Which ones were already corrupt and by who. Joker had a lot of information when he wanted it. All at the tips of his goon's finger tips. There was one he was interested in, though he didn't plan on doing anything just yet. She was blonde - hardly a surprise given Harley - and seemed to be perfect... Oh yes. He had plans and plots. Ideas and thoughts. Images and words. Sentences. Millions of pages. Scribbled down ideas of guns and violence and psychological games which could tear someone apart...

Oh yes. He had plans.

Looking at the goon with a heavy, annoyed sigh, Joker went back to pacing. He stopped again a moment later as he was told it was done. They were in. Joker giggled almost silently to himself and shoved the goons out of the way unceremoniously as they went to the van for bags. They'd grab anything. He knew they would. Money. Cameras. Anything they could. Joker only needed a handful of things, though. He knew what he needed. He knew what his plans required. This was the only missing component. The only thing he needed at this moment in time... Well, this and that member of the GCPD. She could be gotten later. Tomorrow. The day after. It didn't matter. He didn't even care if he got her after he got Gordon. Why would he? They'd both be gotten, though in slightly different ways.

Glancing around, Joker saw one of the goons grabbing a handful of items from one of the shelves and giggled again before he went back to looking for what he needed. He spotted one of them and snarled out his need for a bag. Being given one, he took three of the items in front of him and put them in the bag with a hint of care. A hint of caution. Well, they'd be no good to him broken. He continued his merry way through the shop, picking up anything he thought he might need later, and trying to see if what he was looking at was what he needed. It probably was. He put it in the bag and looked at Sparky, who was looking at a small box through his mask. Eventually, he looked up and held Joker's gaze.

"This might help. Amplifier." He stated. Joker nodded, indicating that he wanted it and Sparky put it in his own bag. One of the goons started laughing by the doors - where Joker had told them to stand before leaving out as an early warning in case anyone showed up - causing Joker to growl softly and move over to them silently. The other goon began to indicate that he should shut up as Joker appeared behind the laughing man.

"Is something funny?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper in volume, his words growled out in annoyance. His fuse had been short when it came to his temper lately. It was probably the Harley business...

"N-No boss. Just... No one's turned up. They must be stupid." The goon laughed. He stopped when Joker grabbed his throat and squeezed.

"Or waiting. Did you think of that?" He asked, his words snarled out, his eyes fixated on the choking goon's wide eyes behind the mask.

"N-N-No boss..." He almost gagged out, trying to breathe despite Joker's hand on his throat. Joker's eyes narrowed and he let go. After doing so, he grabbed the goon's gun and fired. The goon dropped, now dead, and Joker looked at the other goons.

"Someone needs to replace him." He stated and marched back through the shop to where his bag was before grabbing it and going back to the shelves, his hand now holding the strap of the bag and the gun - a semi-automatic that he was accustomed to - while his other hand went back to picking things up to see if he needed any of them.

((Notes: 1056 words. NOT SORRY!))

[/size]

[Amelia Raven Blake]

Limping through the darkness, Amelia felt incredibly weak. She hated feeling weak. A wince shattered the masked indifference on her face and she stopped, leaning back against the wall of the alley. She let her head lean back against the cool stone as she sucked in a strong breath of air. So much for John not knowing she'd gone out.

She didn't know how much danger she was in just by wandering the alleys of the night, so much more danger then she normally was with her ankle fine and dandy. She swallowed and took a deep breath. She decided just to rest for a bit longer, she needed her strength - and her ankle not to be causing her agonizing pain - if she was to be tramping around all night chasing robbers.

As she leaned there, her mind slipped into the subject of Harleen Quinzel, the new secretary of the Gotham City Police Distract station. Jim had hired her; Amelia was sure that no one else would have. In the beginning, Amelia had thought it was just to keep an eye on her at all times, but now she realized it had been something more. She realized that Jim truly thought Harley could change.

Amelia wasn't so sure. She'd been in Harley's shoes - in a way. She'd been a killer once too - a cold blooded killer - a murderer and traits of a murderer never went away. Amelia felt only that small flare of regret as she had back then. She still pick-pocketed like she did back then. Old habits don't die.

In truth, Amelia knew what it was to love someone so much even if that love was the source of manipulation. Sullivan Mortissimo, Amelia's ex, had made her feel like she was on top of the world with his high praise. He stabbed her in the back. Not literally of course, but he had done his fair share of damage to her, most of it still evident in the scars she'd ware all her life.

Amelia wouldn't be surprised if the Joker had something of those lines planned for Harley when he no longer needed her.

Oracle or Amelia Raven Blake, knew she'd never truly be over Sully, he'd been the first one she had said "I love you" to and meant it in a romantic way - parents didn't count. Which is what led her to believe that Harley's recent strange behavior was the cause of the Joker's return - something Amelia had been dreading. For a few reasons. One being that Harley was doing so good at the station and Amelia had to say that she had grown to like the other woman. Two being that Jim obviously cared for Harley and Amelia knew after this it would be impossible for Jim to harm Harley in anyway. He just wouldn't do it, it wasn't in his nature. And three being that he could hurt one of the people that Amelia loved.

That was another thing that was troubling Amelia, Jim's recent behavior. He seemed to be keeping a closer eye on Harley then normal. A closer eye on the door. Did he think that the Joker would go as far as to walk into a building full of cops? One never did know when it was the Joker. But Harley said she was over him. She was over him, right?

Right?

Again, Amelia didn't think so. But she hadn't asked either Harley or Jim about the Joker, she didn't want to get on Harley's bad side and if Jim had wanted to tell her he would have. Wouldn't he have? Or was he just keeping it a secret to keep her safe?

She hated it when he, Dave, and John teamed up and did that to her. She was just as strong as the rest of them and would be damned if she got special treatment. She thought she should be treated just as all the other officers of the GCPD were treated.

She sighed, pushing herself off the cool stone wall and walking forward. Pain split through her, racing up her leg. Numbness tickled across the surface of the blonde's leg and a gasp slid from her lips and she almost cried out. Almost. But almost doesn't count. She bit down on her tongue - hard, hard enough to draw blood. The sickly bitter sweet metallicy iron taste of blood rushed into her mouth and Oracle gagged, spitting out a mouthful of blood, wrinkling her nose in disgust as it splatted against the lifeless grey of the broken alley ground.

The blonde limped forward, her bones grinding together as she struggled forward. Each step sent pain shooting through her and she choked on the screams that threatened to push up and escape her lips. She didn't let them. She wouldn't let them. She couldn't let them. She was going to be strong and screaming because of the agony in her shattered ankle wasn't proving to anyone how strong she was.

Amelia was strong. She'd gone through so much in her past and yet she still tortured herself by pushing herself from her bed every night and going out to be beat up by senseless criminals and did pretty much the same thing during her calls from the GCPD and it wasn't much better with SHIELD. She didn't have time for her family, it was horrible. She was pushing them away instead of drawing them close as she should have been doing with a hoard of villains chasing her. But then Amelia would kill herself if they were killed because of her mistakes.

Amelia was pulled from her reverie as she reached the streets, the sound of sudden laughter sending tingles down the length of her spine. She peaked around the corner into the street. There, across the empty street, were two clowns. The Joker was behind them. She'd been right. He was back. The Joker was back.

This was going to be fun.

"You know," Amelia called, stepping out into the street, her pale silvery eyes glittering strangely in the light of the crescent moon, "it isn't nice to steal." Oracle made sure that her voice, hard and emotionless as it had been back then when she was a killer, could be heard from within the store, where the Joker had returned to after scolding the two goons.

((NOTES -1067 words of rambling like a boss! XD Not sorry either! haha!))

[Joker]

"B-Boss." One of the goons at the door began, making Joker roll his eyes as he dumped another box into the bag. It was beginning to get quite full... He should probably stop soon... A noise behind the counters told him that one of the goons had managed to get into the cash register. Good for them!

"What?" Joker asked, looking at the shelves again, his back to the door and the two look out goons and the dead goon that was lying in front of the door. They should probably get rid of the body...

"There's someone across the road."

"Let's hope they stay there, then." Joker snapped, hardly caring about someone in the middle of the street. Why would he? He was busy. He was busy getting technology that could be used for whatever he ended up using it for. He hadn't fully figured that bit out yet... Then he heard the voice. Stealing? Yeah, they were stealing. Even Joker had to admit that. He half-turned and raised a painted eyebrow at the costumed woman. Wonderful..

"It's not nice to sneak up on people, either." He told her, his hair hanging around his face as he looked at her, twisting his body as he really didn't care enough to actually turn around properly. "Yet here you are. Y'know..." He sucked on his front teeth while thinking. "I was really hoping the Bat would turn up... We have an..." He took a deep breath while pulling a face of uncertainty. "Understanding." He finished, grinned, and nodded at the goons. What was he paying them for again? Oh yeah, to do what he told them to. Wait, had he mentioned that they should attack anyone who came over except other goons or Harley? Hm... He couldn't remember. He turned back to what he was doing regardless as the pair of clowns moved towards her.

"I don't normally hit girls..."

"Neither do I but..." One of the goons shrugged to the other as they moved towards her. "Don't want the boss angry..."

Joker giggled from the store, seeing as how the goons weren't being particularly quiet, and moved towards the front of the store, now interested in what was going to happen. Know your enemy... And at the moment it was another costumed hero. Wouldn't this be fun? Oh yes. Joker didn't doubt that the goons would be beaten up by her... The others seemed to realise that it was time to go, though, as they began piling the bags into the back of the van.

"Break any of that and I'll kill you!" Joker told them cheerfully, giving Clip - one of his most trusted goons besides Harley - the bag he'd had though keeping the gun. It was his gun! If they wanted some then they should have grabbed more. They knew they were coming here, after all...

((Notes: Sorry this is shorter than the last one by around 600 words. D: I don't like it but I can't think of anything else... Feel free to god mod the advancing goons.))

[Amelia Raven Blake]

Amelia smirked at the words spoken by the goons. She could feel the adrenaline bubbling up through her. She slipped out her knife, the silver blade glinting in the light of the pale crescent hanging - a silver guardian - in the sky. She took a deep breath and tried to mask her face but the smirk curved back up when she heard, "I don't normally hit girls..."

"What if she hit you first?" she smirked, springing forward and slamming her fist into his fist, hearing his nose crack beneath her knuckles. She spun out of the way when he went to hit her, ducking and shooting out her leg, sweeping his from out beneath him, pointing her knife down at him, while she pulled out a gun and pointed her gun at his forehead, her finger on the trigger and the safety clicking off.

"Unless you want a bullet through your worthless forehead, I suggest putting down all the weapons you have," she growled, her blue eyes flickering to the goon whose forehead was in the cross-hairs of her pistol. The goon on the ground made a grab for her knife and succeeded in getting it stuck in his throat. He gurgled for a moment or two after she pulled it out, blood staining the blade red.

The other goon dropped his weapons and Oracle smacked him upside the head with the leather butt of her knife, stepping forward as he fell unconscious behind her. Her sapphire blues eyes were only on the Joker. "So," she started, swinging the knife around her hand, almost carelessly, "you're the maniac who believes Gotham belongs to him..." She nodded, putting on an amused face.

She smirked then, a grin slipping across her features, "Yeah, well, welcome to the real world freak," she taunted, "I'm sorry to-" she paused, thinking. "Actually, no, I'm not sorry for bursting your bubble, but Gotham ain't yours. It belongs to the Batman, the GPCD, the people. Anyone, it belongs to anyone, but you."

Oracle had been on many dates with the devil, it seemed to her that she was just about to have another one. She had to admit she was looking forward to beating the crap out of him, however she didn't know that danger was lurking just around the corner, waiting for her to take the wrong move that would pull the trigger - the move that she'd probably already taken.

[Joker]

Joker giggled from the doorway as his goons were beaten and one was killed. This was entertaining. So very entertaining. She was good, he had to admit it. Her mask made her seem a lot less dangerous... He liked it. He liked that she didn't look like a threat but she had fight in her. How much she'd have at the end of this meeting, though, was another matter altogether. Joker had a semi-automatic and a pocket full of sharp and pointed objects. He had a coat of tricks, in a way, and she had... Well... A knife, a gun, and fighting skills... But Joker never fought fair.

When she turned to him and began to speak, Joker stood up straight, pulling on the front of his long purple coat as he did so, and began stepping towards her. His hand was still holding the semi-automatic. His other gloved hand was empty of everything, though it wouldn't be if he lost grip on his gun. No. No. The empty hand was the one nearest the pocket of tricks. He could just shove a hand in and pull out a knife, vegetable peeler, or razor sharp playing card which he had recently been making. He got bored, okay? There were only so many goons he could kill before he'd need more, so he needed to make things. He planned on making fatal electric joy buzzers next week.

Freak? As if Joker had never heard that one before. Joker laughed at her as she continued to talk. Oh, she really had no idea did she? He could rip her apart - mentally and physically - and she had no idea. He had so much power. So much that he could use. He didn't even want to use the gun. He'd danced with the Bat. He knew how the Bat fought. How most of the costumed 'heroes' fought. He'd seen most of them, either on the news or in real life. Either staring at the screen with hatred as more people jumped forward to play the good person or face-to-face as they witnessed his chaos and destruction first hand. She thought he couldn't stop her? She thought he hadn't heard 'freak' before? She thought he wasn't in reality? That was the reason behind the insane laugh that was let loose into the air. That was the reason for the laughter that could haunt peoples' thoughts when they walked alone at night. That was the reason for the laughter that could influence nightmares of the Harlequin of Hate. That was the reason for the laughter that showed Joker's obvious mental fractures and also his arrogance. His arrogance that she was just another person. Another person who needed only one bad day. One bad day to drive the sanest man alive to lunacy. He knew it. There was only one bad day between Joker and this woman. He had no idea who she was - he didn't care enough to ask - but he knew that there was only one bad day between their mental states. He wasn't worried about what kind of challenge she could be. The right word. The right laugh. The right action and she could be his to play with as he wanted to... If he wanted to. He might kill her and string her up for the Bat to find. For him to feel guilty that such a promising young woman would be slaughtered...

The things he could do to her...

"Sorry to disappoint you, Toots, but I'm..." He gave a hint of a laugh and began walking towards her confidently. He had a gun and a pocket full of tricks. He had goons everywhere who only needed a growl for them to do what he wanted them to. He only had to snarl at them and they'd dive on her. No. He wanted this one for himself. This would be special. Her first time dancing with the Clown Prince of Crime in the pale moonlight. How would she do? "I'm not a freak." He told her bluntly, his painted lips splitting into a dark and twisted grin. The scars warping as his cheeks moved. The darkness around his eyes seemingly removing any of the brown colouring from his irises. "Have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?" He asked before laughing and stopping once he was almost touching her. "You're about to." He stated. The grin turned into a snarl and he moved to backhand her around the face with his empty hand. "Unlike those..." He sucked on his teeth while turning his head to indicate to the goon who'd said he didn't hit girls. "Clowns... I do hit girls." He told her then grinned and, barely thinking about his actions, he moved to give the nearest living goon his gun as he took a flick knife out of his pocket and pressed the button for the blade to flick out before he moved a little closer to her, his dark, almost hollow looking eyes sucking in her every movement. "How d'you think you'll do?" He asked before giggling, though it held no amusement. "You were wrong. This is my city. You're just playing hero here."

((Notes: 868 words. You do not understand how much I love this post. Seriously. I know it took forever - SORRY! - but I hope it was worth the wait and I'm sorry he didn't do that much... D: ))

[Amelia Raven Blake]

Amelia's eyes narrowed into a glare at his giggle. How could he giggle when his men were being killed? She shook her head, she'd never understand this man so she wasn't even going to try and understand. She straightened up, scowling only slightly at the blood that had dried across her hand, but turning her attention from it to the man with the painted face before her.

She watched him as he came towards her. She could see every line of his face, the scars ugly and twisted beneath the red paint. His eyes locked on her and glistening insanely. She could see each strand of green hair as it hung down around his face, strands casting shadows across his face. She kept her face a mask of indifference as he came closer.

She wouldn't be surprised if he had a whole bunch of tricks up his sleeve, she wouldn't be surprised if he pulled one on her in the next moment. In fact, Amelia had been preparing herself for the pain as he walked towards her, her eyes hard and cold never leaving his advancing figure.

She wasn't expecting his hand to raise, his empty hand that is. She had expected a knife or something to cut into her, but instead the back of his hand slammed against her face and her head whipped to the side, her teeth slamming down into her lip, tearing a gash into it. She stumbled backwards a bit, not liking how close he was.

The backhand had nearly caused her mask to fall of and when she steadied herself she hurriedly fixed it. wiping the blood from her mouth and spitting it against the pavement, red splattering across the black of the Gotham street. She glared at him. "I've danced with quite a few devils," she growled, "but you're the most insane by far."

She fixed her grip on the leather knife, pointing it at him. "I'm wrong?" A golden eyebrow shot up beneath the mask, her silver contacted eyes glittering dangerously. "Last time I looked this city belonged to all those who have dreams for a Gotham without corruption."

Amelia smirked then, brushing a strand of hair from her face, her fingers absently finding the necklace around her neck, her most prized possession. It was all she had left of her parents, she wore it always. The rings needed polishing as did the chain, but Amelia didn't want to mess with them. She wanted them to stay just as they were. Just as they were when they were given to her after the car crash that killed both her parents and the man who'd crashed into their car.

She shook her head slowly, a strand of honeysuckle blonde hair falling into her face, cutting a line through the bronze, gold and silver of her mask, sparkling dimly in the silvery pool of light cast down from the moon. She shook her head again, blinking in irritation as the contacts bothered her eyes. "That's where you're wrong." She said, "I'm not a hero, I"m not playing anything. I'm just a person who believes in a better world."

[[ NOTES - only like 530 words, I wasn't sure what to write. Sorry!]]

[Joker]

Joker could only giggle at her after he hit her. He couldn't help it. It was his normal reaction to... Well... Everything, actually. He hadn't realised how close her mask had been to falling off, though. If he had then he would have gone for the mask. Why wouldn't he? If it was close to coming off then he could find out who she was and possibly use it to his advantage... Either today or another day... At the glare and the growl, Joker's giggles grew into full out laughter. No kidding he was the most insane. Joker thought that was kind of obvious, if he was honest. It wasn't like he tried to hide it, at any rate...

"I'm so thrilled you noticed that." He joked, straightening his coat as though trying to be professional while his lips were pulled into another grin of delight and glee. At the knife being pointed at him, Joker raised an eyebrow and giggled again. Her questioning, made him narrow his eyes, his head moving forward slightly as though he'd misheard her. Hadn't he just said she was wrong? Maybe she hadn't heard him correctly. Thinking of this, Joker nodded slowly as though she needed him to do things as deliberately slowly as he was for her to understand. She spoke again and Joker cackled.

It wasn't just his usual laugh of 'this place is going to hell and I'm taking it there', but it was actually amused. Amused and maniacal. His laughter broke forth a moment later and he hunched slightly with deep, hacking laughter. It could have just sounded like he was clearing his throat, but the expression of demented joy on his scarred face would let anyone know that this was not just coughing. It was laughing. It was dry laughter from his lungs. But it was insane. Oh yes. It was definitely insane. Insane, dry, deep, hacking laughter, drawing the noise up from... Wherever could possibly make such a noise and letting it loose. A couple of near-by goons edged towards the van as this laughter started, obvious fear on their features behind their clown masks. They were new, though. They probably suspected that he'd turn on them. He wouldn't. He never did. He kept his attention on what had caused the laughter... He didn't turn on the goons unless the cause left. As she was still here, he wouldn't be hurting them tonight.

Having now noticed that she'd moved backwards, Joker decided to make up the distance while she spoke. His insane, highly amused giggles broke free of him again as he moved forward, raising the hand with his knife in so she could see the weapon as he moved.

"You're playing the same game as him." He told her, his voice somewhat quiet before he giggled again. "Y'know, if you're gonna dance the dance..." He began, straightening his back a little, the knife raising slightly more. "You really shouldn't be so nervous. How about... How about I tell you a story?" He asked, raising his eyebrows as though she'd actually get a choice. Less than a moment later, though, he spoke again. "Since... Since you asked so nicely, I'll tell you a story. I'll... I'll tell you how I got these scars!" He said as though that was a spectacular idea.

Once he was close enough, Joker moved to knock her hand holding the knife out of his way, and hold the back of her head so she couldn't pull away unless she had stopped his hand.

"I had a wife... I know, it's a surprise, right?" He asked before giggling a little and nodding. "She was beautiful... And blonde... And she... She was pregnant. And one night, while we're out with her parents... Because... Because my father?" He continued, raising his eyebrows. "My father didn't want to go with us. I didn't mind. I hated him anyway. Hated him right until I killed him!" He giggled before shaking his head again. "But that... That's another story. So... This night... We're walking home... Walking through the Narrows because... Because that's where we lived..." He nodded, splaying the hand holding the knife as though it would make her understand. "You understand... Of course you do... And... And that night... We got mistaken. She got mistaken for a girlfriend of a mob guy. So they came towards us... We tried to get away! Of course we did... But there were more of them than there were of us... And..." He looked a little mournful now as his tongue darted out to dampen the corners of his lips. "And... They come over... And two of them grab me. We didn't know what was going on, but she panicked, and I panicked... And they drew their knives..." He moved his own again as though showing her what a knife was. "And stabbed her. Not one! No. No! This was the mob! No... Twenty two times." He told her, raising his eyebrows. "There... There was blood... Everywhere." He continued, his expression turning very dark as he spoke before he took a deep breath and spoke again.

"So... I... I get home... It was obvious she was dead. And... And I didn't like it, but I couldn't do anything about it, y'know?" He asked her, raising his eyebrows with an expression of almost innocent now perched on his features. "Of course you do..." He said dismissively, frowning a little and shaking his head as though asking if she knew was a stupid thing to ask. "So... I... I get home... And I look in the mirror... And do this, to myself..." He moved his head so that she could see both of his scars fully, one at a time. "And the pain... The pain and the grief..." Joker breathed out a laugh, leaning a little closer to her. "They do things... They change people..." He laughed again, not moving at all now while his dark eyes stared into her light ones, his low laughter starting quiet then growing louder. Growing move obvious. Growing more demented. More insane. More... More Joker-esque... While he watched her for her reaction, for her words. Let her give him a snide remark about that...

((Notes: 1041 words. SO NOT SORRY FOR THE STORY!))

[Amelia Raven Blake]

Amelia regarded him with narrowed eyes. She shook her head when he fell into fits of laughter. And I thought Loki was bad, she thought to herself, straightening the mask making she it was on all the way. If it fell off, Amelia didn't even want to think about what could happen. If he found out who she was Amelia feared that the lives of her family would be in danger and more then anything she didn't want that.

"Game?" Amelia sneered. "You think this is a game?" She laughed bitterly. "What the Batman and I do isn't a game, it's what we think is right." She met his eyes, he was too close and she resisted the urge to shove him away. She didn't only because of that knife that she knew could sink into her flesh at any moment. "I don't have time for any of your stupid stories," she snapped rolling her eyes.

Her knife clattered to the ground and she almost made a grab for it before she felt the Joker's hand at the back of her neck and her body went rigid. She wanted to shove him away, but that knife kept her from doing anything. To tell the truth, she really didn't want to suffer any injuries tonight, she just wanted to go home and be with her husband and her daughter. However, it would be quite a while before Amelia returned home after her encounter with the Joker.

She smirked at his next words. "Wife?!" The incredulous disbelief she felt came through in her voice and she snickered. "Do you honestly think I'm going to believe that?" She chuckled and shook her head, "You're more insane then I thought!"

However, she listened as he spoke, her eyes going back to the knife every now and then. She winced at the part about the woman being stabbed...twenty-two times. She didn't know if he was telling her this because that's what he planned to do to her - she sure as hell hoped not. She swallowed as he showed off the scars, she could see where the skin had closed over and came back together, it was disgusting. She didn't want to see that much, especially when it was the Joker.

But she kept going back to those words. "It was obvious she was dead. And... And I didn't like it, but I couldn't do anything about it, y'know?...Of course you do." It brought her back to that night. The night when the door bell rang and she skipped to the door, thinking her mother and father had forgotten their key. There, instead, was a man she didn't know. She remember the weary, sad, expression he wore and the grief in his voice as he told the young girl her parents had been killed.

""And the pain... The pain and the grief...They do things... They change people..." Why did everything he said have to remind her of herself? Why did those words bring her back to the nights she'd wake up, slamming her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming, so a thug wouldn't find her and slice open her throat and leave her for dead? Why did he have to be right? Why the hell did the Joker have to be speaking the truth? She didn't say anything, she had nothing to say. Instead she just avoided his eyes. She couldn't meet them. Suddenly, it felt as though all the fight had left her. Her ankle was in agony again and she having a hard time getting her mind from the image of her parents' faces.

Why did this have to happen? Why wasn't she over it? And of all people, why did the Joker have to be the one that brought it up?

[Joker]

Her words before his story made Joker giggle at her. It was a game. It was a game between himself and the Bat. That was how he saw it, anyway. Who could do better at their jobs? Who could win against the other? Joker usually won in the mental areas. The areas in which he could tear and rip and cause someone to lose their minds... The Bat? The Bat could win at physical. He didn't have the right skills for the mental things... Joker? Joker had enough skills to pull someone's mind apart and stitch it back together. He'd done it with Harley. He'd pulled her apart and put her back as someone wonderfully abnormal. She was his perfect little monster... Or rather, she had been his perfect little monster. Until Gordon had gotten hold of her. Until he'd tried to fix her. There was no fixing what wasn't broken. Only improving...

Oh, Joker could improve many. Harley had never needed it, though. She really was his perfect creation...

Her next words caused a growl to come from Joker. Stupid stories?! They weren't just stories. They were memories - depending on the day. One day he might remember himself carving the scars into his cheeks, the blood running down his jaw as agony took over, other days he might remember a man his mental self would call 'dad' being angry and snarling, telling him to stop crying and to smile... Other times he couldn't remember any way it could have happened... Those days whatever he told was just a story, but it was a good story. He didn't tell bad stories. He let the audience know the feelings, the emotions, the pain... He let them know how it feels - how it felt - and it never hurt him. Not anymore. It had at the time, that was something that remained the same with every 'memory', but not anymore. He could tell them anything! It suited Joker, though. If he was going to have a past, he would prefer for it to be multiple choice...

Once he'd knocked her knife away and grabbed her, Joker ignored her reaction to the beginning of his story. He didn't care if she believed him or not. That was what he remembered. That was what he could see in his mind as he told her the story. The story of the couple who got attacked by a mob. Her opinions on the story didn't matter at all. Her opinions on whether it was true or not didn't make Joker magically change mid-story. No. No. He could be rather convincing... Tonight didn't seem to be the night he would be convincing, though. It didn't matter much. The stories were more for intimidation, sympathy... Maybe a little empathy too, if he could manage it...

There was no snide remarks once he'd finished, though. Nothing that Joker could get angry at. No reason for him to hurt her... So he didn't. Instead, he stepped as close as he could without being against her, and leaned forward a little.

"What's wrong, Toots? Clown got your tongue?" He asked before giggling and grinning at her. "Or... Or are you remembering one bad day? That's the only difference between him and me, y'know." He nodded before tilting his head to one side and leaning a little closer, his voice dropping as he spoke again. "One bad day." He stressed every single word - every single sound - as he said them. His lips curved into another demented grin. His dark eyes searching her face for a hint of weakness or emotion. They began drifting down, though, and his hand came from behind her neck to gently touch the necklace with the rings. They didn't look like hers... Oh. They weren't originally. Two of them, around her neck. Whoever used to have them meant something to her... Possibly a sibling but keeping them dirty said closer... Parents? It was possible though it was also possible that they could be her own. Husband died? Assuming she used to have a husband and not a wife. He was completely open to a woman having a wife. He had two male goons who were going out with each other working for him. He didn't really care so long as they did their jobs... But one seemed to be bigger than the other - the rings, that is, not the goons though one of those was bigger than the other - which said that they weren't both women's rings...

"One bad day to do with these..." He stated with a hint of a sigh, the hand holding the knife having dropped to his side as his gloved fingers moved to help him inspect the rings a little more. "Yours?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow before shaking his head with pursed lips, his eyes almost closing as he did so. "You'd clean them if they were yours, wouldn't you? Of course you would. You'd treasure them. You'd look after them. Not yours..." He mused before grinning at her. "And it changed you..." His words were quieter than before, which was lucky because one of the goons was near-by, trying to hear what Joker was saying to this masked woman. Joker didn't notice, though, and tilted his head again, now looking at her face as he waited for a reaction or an answer. Both of them worked for him.

((Notes: 901 words and Joker turned into Sherlock. Not bad.))

[Amelia Raven Blake]

She hardly heard the words he was speaking, her whole body turning to ice as his fingers rubbed all over her parents' rings. "Don't. Touch. Them. You. Monster." She snapped, slapping his hand away and closing hers around the rings as though that alone would protect them. Her blue eyes were narrowed as she glared at him, anger lashing through her. How dare he put his grimy fingers on her father's wedding ring. At the thought a memory rose up into her eyes, and she couldn't stop the sadness that began to glow there.

-- FLASHBACK --

"Liz, darling, please, we can work this out, I know we can..." Her father said softly, claiming her mother's shoulders with his strong calloused hands, gently raising one to attempt and brush the hot tears spilling from her pretty hazel eyes from her cheeks, but she swatted his hand away and stepped from the offering of an embrace, her eyes narrowed. "No, Timothe, no, we can't. We're too far gone. Too far broken." Her words held the invisible curse of hopelessness, the same lack of hope that little Anastasia was feeling from where she watched in the shadow of her parent's doorway, feeling the need to cry herself. However, she kept quiet.

Timothe's hurt shone pitifully in his green eyes, his arms falling limply, like a marionette's, at his side. "Liz, mon amour, darling, please..." The helpless sense to his words scared Ani, she had always believed her father to be a strong being and now, hearing the helplessness in his tone, it frightened her. Was this really reality? Could her mother's leaving really be something of the real world?

Ani's mother stormed from the room, causing Anastasia to press herself to the wall in attempt not to be seen, but her father always knew when she was listening in. He slowly moved from the room, standing in the doorway and turning his dulled green eyes to his blonde daughter, kneeling down before her, unshed tears shining in his eyes, glazing them with a shining sheen of moister.

"Daddy..." Ani asked softly, scooting from the shadows and closer to the comforting presence of her father, "is Mommy really leaving?" At that, her father's strong arms wrapped around her and pulled her into his lap, holding her close as he began to quietly weep, his face against her shoulder, and Ani, confused and frightened cried too, looping her skinny arms around his neck burying her face in the crook of his neck.

When he was gone, in the car with her mother, Ani crawled over to the bedside table where he'd set his wedding ring for safe keeping. She touched the smooth surface with her small fingers, picking it up and carefully examining it. They didn't come back that night, instead a man, who told her his name was Officer Gregory Treaty, came to tell her that her parents had died in a tragic car crash. She had sobbed for endless hours because her father, the man she had never ceased to look upon for guidance was gone.

Hours later, she was given her mother's wedding ring upon request. She had strung them onto the silver chain she wore now and hung it around her neck. Forever it would be her reminder of the parents she'd lost.

Now, Amelia Raven Blake, born under the name of Anastasia Odette Lerouz, took a deep shuddering breath and shoved the Joker away from her. "Don't touch me." She snapped, rubbing her eyes for a moment.

[Joker]

When she slapped his hand away, Joker pulled a face as though she'd actually hurt him despite the fact that he was wearing a glove. Protective... Those rings meant a lot to her then... Oh, he would have fun with her... If he ever found out who she was, of course. He planned on finding out tonight. His other plans could be put on hold. He didn't care about those so much at the moment. No. That was a lie. A down right lie. He did care about those. He cared about those plans and plots and schemes so much that he'd set up a damn time table for them the night before. Granted he couldn't actually read it but that was beside the point. The point was that never made a time table for plans. It was usually a rough estimate. 'One of these days in this week in one of these three months'. It was never 'on this date right here'. Never.

Her words after she slapped his hand away mostly didn't matter to him except one. Monster. Oh yes. He was a monster. He liked being a monster. A freak could be human. A monster couldn't. When someone thought of monsters, the closest they'd get to a human was Frankenstein, zombies or werewolves... Possibly vampires too. They never thought of a human in human form. Joker was happy to be a monster. Happy to be considered inhuman. It meant there was no human-related expectations placed on him. He could be as cruel, as unusual, as gruesome as he wanted and no one would expect any different...

When she shoved Joker away from her, he stumbled a little though soon stabilised himself and narrowed his eyes. Oh come on! Now she was expecting too much. This was Joker. He got close. He touched people. He touched objects. He got into their faces and scared the living daylights out of them. It was what he did best! Telling him not to touch was like telling Bats not to disappear - it would never work.

"Y'know," He began, moving towards her again. "given that I'm a 'monster', you sure are expecting a lot from me..." He told her, a wicked grin on his red lips, the scars extending the grin into a surreal sight. A moment passed before he stopped moving, only to try grabbing her wrists and pulling. If he'd grabbed her wrists, then he wanted to pull her hands down. He ignored the knife in the grip of his index finger - the blade pointed upwards dangerously - and focused only on her. On how unsettled, how upset, he could make her...

He leaned close to her, his face merely inches from hers, neither of their bodies touching.

"What's wrong, Toots? Where's the fight in ya?" He asked before giggling. "See, this is a game and you're giving up. How upsetting." He continued, looking disappointed in her before he grinned again and giggled. "And I wanna see who the player is." He told her, grin remaining on his lips as one hand moved to pull at her mask. What was an easier way to find out who he was talking to? Ask?! No. No! He knew she wouldn't tell him. Bats hadn't. He wasn't even going to try with the others - there were beginning to get too many for Joker to keep an eye on - and this one was no different... So he'd unmask her, if he could. He might get a nice surprise...

[Amelia Raven Blake]

"You're strong, Ani, never - ever - doubt that. You are a beautiful girl, and you are my daughter. No matter what, I will always love you. Do you understand me? Never doubt my love for you." He'd told her that day he left. The day he stepped out of her life for good. He'd been the guidance she'd needed. What had happened to the Joker's? Or had he ever had one? Amelia wondered this now, as he approached her once more.

She met his eyes, hers hard and strangely silver, "Do you even know who you are?" She asked, no emotion evident in her voice. "Have you ever asked yourself, 'who am I'?" Amelia went on, not moving just standing there as he advanced towards her. Then he was right before her again, their faces nearly touching so that once more she could see every detail of his face. The crazed light dancing in his eyes, the greasy strands of hair, died an unattractive yellowed green, the white paint smeared across his face and the red creating a sinister grin across the grotesque scars across his face.

She was going to say more, elaborate on the spoken words, but his hands grabbed her wrists and for a moment she struggled, only making the situation worse for herself. When she'd struggled, the forgotten knife in the Joker's hand stuck deep into her ribcage. Her eyes widened and she choked, unable to stumble away from the blade impaled into her abdomen for the steely grip on her hands. Blood trickled, in long maroon ribbons down her front, soaking into the silver of her suit giving it a deathly hue of vermillion.

Oracle was unable to move away from him as his hand moved towards her face, aiming to rip off her mask. But she still had the contacts, the contacts that made her once beautiful sapphire eyes a strange greyish tint that nearly covered the blue. However, at the sight of his hand approaching her face, she did send out a silent prayer that what ever happened John and Alyss would remain safe. She knew that if she was captured that she could count on Jim and Bruce and Hailey to make sure John stayed safe and she knew that James wouldn't let anything happen to Alyss, nor would Jim.

She didn't care what happened to her, only to her family.

The masked woman choked again, a small tendril of red brushing across the edge of her mouth and sliding down her chin, staining its path with a red hue. Pain dominated her existence and her knees wobbled, threatening to buckle beneath her form, but the knife was still imbedded in her ribcage, its point threatening to plunge into her lung and it would if it was shifted just slightly. Just slightly enough that it could be accidental. But then with the Joker one can never really know if something is done accidentally, purposefully, or accidentally on purpose, can they?

(Notes - ...it's only about 500 words...and its a shitty post, I'm sorry you had to wait so long for this!)

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[Joker]

Joker had wondered who he used to be many times before. He knew who he was now - that was most definitely a question that he didn't need to ask himself - but he couldn't remember anything from before he became the Clown Prince of Crime. Curiosity usually fueled his thoughts of who he used to be. What kind of person he was before the mental cracks and physical scarring that caused the change from... Whoever he was before to who he was now. Joker paused as she asked the questions. He'd only paused for a moment before he continued his advancement towards her. His dark gaze still fixated on her.

Once he'd moved towards her and grabbed her wrists. He'd spoken and gotten no reply. How disappointing. He would have preferred for her to give a reply or an answer. He barely noticed the knife going into her or the reaction she'd given. He'd been too wrapped up in his own thoughts and the ramblings of a mad clown to so much as notice her reaction.

"Uh, boss... Her front..." One of the goons said, alerting Joker enough for him to let go of the knife and leave it in her. Stitch could deal with it later, probably. Actually, he could deal with it right now if Joker called him over... Instead, Joker pulled the mask off with almost ease, making Joker momentarily thing about how bad of a mask it was if it couldn't even stay on her face when plucked with gentleness. Upon seeing her face, Joker's lips pulled into a gleeful grin.

"Ah, officer. I was thinking about you earlier." He said, his voice rather quiet before he chuckled and glanced over his shoulder. "Stitch! We gotta stabbing." He called out, waiting for the correct goon to come over. Stitch used to be in the medical profession and was one of Joker's oldest henchmen in terms of how long he'd been working for Joker. He had skills Joker required for his team, himself and his Harley Quinn. Each of them would probably have died a fair few times if not for Stitch and his skills.

As said goon came over with a first aid kit that could have easily been stolen from an ambulance, Joker's attention turned back to Officer Blake as he played with the mask with one hand, the other still holding her wrists.

"Don't worry, Toots. Stitch is the best we have for this kinda thing." He glanced at the goon before grinning at her. "Then we can take ya home and show our dear Commish what happens when you take what isn't yours. Should be - heh - fun." He looked at the other goons, moving only to give Stitch a little more room. "Hurry up with that and make some space! Brute's riding in the back." Joker grinned.

"You kidding boss? There ain't room in the back!"

"We're gonna have a guest. Would you rather..." Joker pulled a face of uncertainty while he kept his grip on her wrists, if she hadn't pulled them away. "Be left here for the cops - or him - to see?" He asked, looking at Brute with raised eyebrows. "That can easily be arranged." Brute shook his head and probably began making a space as Joker rolled his eyes and looked back at the blonde. "Clowns, huh? There's something funny about them." He said then giggled softly and looked at Stitch as the goon continued to work. He really didn't want to be driving away just as the GCPD got here. That would not be fun at all...

((Notes: 602 words! I rambled kind of a lot. Not too sorry and not sorry about the awful joke at the end. I had to put it in. I'm great at terrible puns and jokes - ask Luna on FW, she's had to sit through an IC with Joker making terrible puns and jokes the whole time - and I just had to put one in here.))

[Amelia Raven Blake]

Amelia choked on the blood rising in her throat, she coughed spatting it out at the ground, groaning in pain. Her eyes flashed with pain as she glared at the Joker as he pulled off her mask. "Don't you dare," she managed to croak, "Hurt my family." She tore her one of her wrists from his hand, stumbling, and tore out the contacts, her blue eyes hard. "I'll do whatever you want, just don't hurt my family."

When the goon ran over and began stitching her up she, despite herself, let out a scream, but can you blame her? A needle was being stabbed into her flesh repeatedly and the pain was immense. She groaned, feeling her knees shaking but she stood straight, tightening her face in pain.

"Harley came to him," snapped Amelia, wincing as the needle went through her again. "Jim didn't take anyone." She winced again, close to just swatting the goon away saying that he should just let her bleed out. "Harley stayed with us. No one made her, she made her own choices."

Amelia spit at his face, a sickly mixture of saliva and blood. "Don't see why they call you the Joker," she sneered, "you suck at jokes." Despite her criticizing of his jokes and ways she would answer any question he threw at her as long as he family stayed safe. That was all she cared about.

If John died she would kill herself, or give some villain the luxury of killing her. It sounded horrible considering she had Alyss and William but without John she had no reason to smile, no reason to laugh, no reason to continue living...he was the only person she woke up in the morning for and without him there was just no point in waking up to the sun and the happy faces of the people walking obliviously down the streets of Gotham.

[[notes=...god Crow i'm so sorry this is so dang short!! D: it sucks too!! i didn't know what to write...]]