A Night Patrol (Open)

[Carter Elmersson]

Carter was unusually energetic tonight. He woke up in the morning with a smile on his face and was ready to face the day. He was practically glowing. Many of his co-workers have even complimented him on his energy. Now, Carter isn't a mean person or someone who is glued to a coffee mug, waiting for the next nap, but he was happier than normal.

It was a good night to make some extra money in his pay check. Though his shift ended about twenty minutes ago, he was ready to go on patrol. He did not have to change into a police uniform; he could just keep the clothes that he was wearing. He would go from being a plainclothes detective to a plainclothes detective on patrol.

He would enter the men's changing room, a bullet proof vest under his right arm. He would take off his gray blazer, then his white button-up shirt. He would take his bullet proof vest and strap it to his black undershirt. Now that he was fully ready to go on patrol, he just had to dress once again, and then get to his patrol car.

Unfortunately, there weren't many people tonight. Gotham is not a safe city, it's understandable that one may occasionally have to patrol the nights alone. Many of the officers of Gotham PD have friends and family to care for, unlike Carter. His family shunned him, there's not much to care about. No lover to see, but that just means that he can do extra shifts like these every once in a while.

He took the car's keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door. He sat in the driver's seat and buckled up. He adjusted his mirrors. Once everything was taken care of, he put his keys in the ignition and started the car. Hopefully he didn't leave anyone behind, but if he didn't, it was to Gotham's streets he would go!

[Joker]

The dark streets of Gotham welcomed their prince like an old friend. It had been too long since Joker had been out and about. Too long. He'd been busy, of course. If he hadn't been busy then he would have just been negligent and that didn't sit well with Joker. He couldn't neglect this city - his city. It was his home and his... Well... It was his. That was all that mattered. Too many other people had been coming in, trying to take over in Joker's eyes and he didn't do well with such things happening. The Clown Prince decided that he needed to remind Gotham of what they feared at night. Of the voice that struck them with paralysing terror. Of him. Joker had been away for too long and now he was back to play with them all. To play with the silly police who thought they could fight him. To play with the Bat's 'family'. To play with Bats himself. Dance the dance with the Dark Knight and blow the city half to Hell if he had to. This was his city and he would do with it whatever he wanted to.

Walking the streets, his hand was closed around his wonderful and familiar flick knife. The black handle was hidden in his gloved hand, the blade hidden inside the handle. He was hunched as he walked, his tongue occasionally slipping out momentarily to dampen the corners of his lips, brushing against the ends of his scars gently. He glanced around him, noticing the empty streets. Had someone told everyone he was coming out tonight? No. It wasn't him. It should have been him, but it was exceedingly unlikely. He hadn't been around. Others had. Other villains and criminals, climbing out of the wood work and sneaking around his city. It made Joker want to choke someone! So why didn't he?

Joker stalked down an alleyway, looking for a victim, and came across a suitable person who would easily be a good victim for him. It had been too long and Joker could feel himself beginning to need it. The life draining from their body. Their true personality peaking through the façade. Oh, he needed it. Longed for it. Life just wasn't the same without a little death and murder.. And bombs. Joker needed some of those, too. Bam could make some. He could probably get them to Joker, too...

Five minutes after finding the perfect victim, Joker had disappeared from the alleyway and left a dead, scarred body at the mouth of it for anyone to find. They had to know he was still here! That was the point in all of this! The scarred body. The coming out when he really had better things to be doing. The murder and death. It was to let them know they still had a reason to be scared of what went 'ha' in the night, because Joker never quite went 'bump'... And so he was walking down the street with a blood soaked knife in his hand and a grin on his scarred features. He could have sung, but he was too busy laughing, releasing insanity fuelled 'ha's into the night sky as if the person's death was the funniest thing in the world... And maybe it was...


((Notes: I hope you don't mind my coming into this thread! Joker decided he wanted to play with the detective... Sorry there isn't more happening in this, too. D: Hope it's okay!))

[Carter Elmersson]

(Posted. Also, don't worry about throwing in the Joker, that makes it much more fun. )

It was certainly an eerie night in Gotham, but every night was eerie in Gotham. Carter didn't have many memories of his patrols, he tended to push them out of his mind. He would probably go insane if he didn't. There were certainly many things that could cause someone to go insane in Gotham, one just needed to know how to block it out. There may have been more fun memories to be made tonight, but Carter certainly did not hope for them.

He surprising didn't find any reason to pull anyone over or to throw anyone in the back of his car, but the night was still young. Just when he put his guard down and thought that it would be a quiet night, there was a call on his phone.

Carter grimaced as he picked up his phone. There weren't many people on the road, so he looked at the screen of his phone. It was from the station, that wasn't a good sign. He knew right then and there that he was going to earn his extra money for the night. He started thinking that he should have ignored the luxury of extra money. Sometimes the extra money wasn't worth it, especially when it came to Gotham City.

Carter pressed the button on his phone to accept the call and held the phone to his ear. "Hello," he said. It was the last word he could get in for a little while. It was the commissioner. A murder was committed a matter of minutes ago and it was up to Carter to investigate. In a short night, he went from plainclothes detective, to patrol officer, right back to detective. It was going to be an interesting night in Gotham, Carter had to steel himself to the body that is probably torn apart. Some psychopath probably got his hands on a knife and stuck it inside of some poor fellow on the streets. Very typical of Gotham. He ended the call with, "Understood," then hung up. It was off to the crime scene he would go.

When he pulled up to the crime scene and examined the body, he knew instantly whose work this was. His heart stopped, he started sweating. This was work from none other than the Joker himself! He had to do something! He wouldn't call Batman, that's saying that he can't do it. He needs to work on this fast, in case the Joker would get away.

He quickly called the medical examiner and for a forensics team to come in, which wasn't needed, but more of a protocol. Once they all arrived, he would start to walk around the streets of Gotham alone, he was armed with his bullet proof vest, a gun hidden inside of his blazer, and a knife in his boot. If he found the Joker, he would give him a fight. He wasn't going to let him get away with this.

[Joker]

Joker had heard the sirens and tunes and all the little dances that meant only one thing: The body had been found. He was impressed. Usually it took longer. But did they know it was him? Well, it would likely be on the news the next morning. 'Joker's back! Everyone panic!' Such a bad joke. He never left, after all. Joker didn't feel like he should be going home just yet, though. He wanted to do more! More death and a little destruction. Oh Gotham, before the night was through, he was going to do bad things to you...

Glancing at the nearest person, some drunk man that Joker mentally called a drunk bastard, the Clown Prince of Crime grinned before moving towards him. He didn't pay attention to him. He was shouting at him, but he didn't care. He didn't care until the man threw something at him - a glass bottle - and called him a freak. Well, that would never go down well with Joker... He didn't realise what was going on at first, though he was moving towards the man who'd shouted and thrown a bottle at him. He wanted revenge! He was Joker, and this man wasn't scared... Yet, so he jammed the blade into the man's throat while going through the waves of anger and aggression, his knife tearing at the skin and blood vessels. His anger was obvious.

People were yelling behind his victim. Running from the scene for fear they'd be next... And they were right. Mass slaughter! What could be better? But they didn't stay around. That was a shame. He didn't much care, though, because he was being gurgled at by his victim. Laughing now, Joker's knife tore through the man's cheeks as he whimpered and whined in pain, kneeling on the floor with blood dribbling pathetically out of his cheeks. No mercy showed through Joker's painted face, though. His tongue darted out to dampen the corners of his lips, his permanent smile enough to have the fear seeping through the other man... Or maybe it was just Joker doing that.

"Freak?" He growled at the man before throwing him on the floor. His lips curved into a nightmarish grin. "You ought to smile more." He half-sighed, half-snarled while watching the man on the ground, Joker's dark eyes full of anger while his victim tried to live. He wouldn't, though. That was the point. A return, of sorts...


((Notes: If you come back... Sorry this took so long!))