Humans. Monsters. Heroes. Villains.

Chapter 10: We've All Got Plans of Our Own

Maybe our greatest enemy isn't the evil around us, but the evil inside us.

- Ricky Maye

The Joker's POV
The Gotham librarian must be blind. Either that, or he had done a much better job of disguising himself than he thought he had, because he had somehow managed to just stroll into the library and use the computer without even a single person recognizing him.

It had been fairly easy to get disguised - all he had to do was cover up the scars with some makeup and false skin and wash out the hair dye. Nothing the Joker hadn't had to do before.

As soon as he got back to the warehouse, he reapplied his face paint and re-dyed his hair. It felt good to be...smiling again.

But the disguise had been worth it. There was now a huge shipment of weaponry being delivered to the house of Aiden Clint, who actually no longer lived there because he was dead. Well, technically he was still there, he was just shoved in a closet. Covered in blood. And no longer breathing.

One of the Joker's henchmen was now stationed there, waiting for the weapons, which were scheduled to arrive sometime today.

The Joker rubbed his hands together gleefully. He was already imagining how much fun he could have with all those guns and explosives and knives. Once he had all the explosives he could start setting some of his plans into action.

Remembering the chaos of nine years ago, the Joker was thinking he would try something sort of...reminiscent...of that. But he needed more Joker cards. And his suit. He still needed his suit. He was getting sick of this stupid white Asylum jumpsuit, and it had already gotten stained red several times.

Well. White splattered with red was still better than just plain white.

He was pacing one of the big empty rooms in the warehouse, thinking hard. When the weapons arrived, he was sending some of his thugs to pick them up and plant them in different locations somewhat near the warehouse. Then, more of his thugs would be sent to pick those up during the day. It would look much too suspicious to have a ton of weapons be delivered to one huge empty warehouse.

Not that anyone would probably even see. The warehouse district of Gotham was basically a no-man's land. Unless, of course, you were a criminal mastermind. Such as the Joker.

Footsteps echoed in the empty house, and a man appeared in front of the Joker. He was a short, stocky man named Smith. He was one of the Joker's newer workers, not really the sharpest knife in the drawer (hehe), but that only made him all the more useful. Easier to manipulate and use. The perfect henchman, in the Joker's opinion.

Well, mostly.

"Yes? " The Joker said impatiently, since the man had been standing in front of him and not saying anything for the past few minutes.

"Oh, right," Smith said quickly. "Um, there was a sighting of the Chimera yesterday."

"Was there now," he replied, raising an eyebrow.

Smith nodded. "She was spotted outside the West Wing of Arkham Asylum yesterday at around noon. They didn't catch her."

"Of course they didn't catch her," the Joker mumbled, waving a hand in the air. "They've been not catching her for seven years now."

"Yeah," Smith said, glancing down. "You said to tell you if there were any sightings or any news about her, so I thought I should tell you."

"Yeah, yeah. Good job, Sam. Smith. Whatever your name is. Now go away." He paused.