Damian's Sister

The Joker

~ The Joker ~

The night was long. Daire spent hours typing on her laptop, going over the previous night's events. Learning from her mistakes. She went over the fight at least fifty times, breaking down every move made and thinking over what she could have done differently.

She let out a ticked grunt, slamming her fist against the table.

Clone didn't comment, simply asked if she had slept.

Yeah, a few hours, but that was all she claimed to need. She had more important things to spend her time on. According to her, sleep wasn't one of them.

For a moment, Clone worried. This was the same girl who forced him to sleep just two weeks ago, rattling on about the importance of it. This was the same girl who two weeks ago, wouldn't have killed to ruthlessly. Was Gotham changing her or the League of Assassins? He didn't know.

When she was done with her laptop, she went to the television. She turned on a mindless show, but Clone was sure she wasn't really paying attention to the screen. Knowing her determination and hate for the Batman, she was planning how to take him down.

"I'm going to shower," Clone informed when he finished his breakfast. He dumped his bowl in the sink, making his way to the bathroom. Daire made no response, and Clone wasn't sure if she heard him- she had the dreadful habit of tuning out the world- but he knew better than to bother Daire in the mood she was in. He hadn't done it before, but he had seen what happened to the poor soul who did. And that wrath was not something he wanted aimed at him.

At least he knew why people at the temple called her "Demon Spawn," a title so unlike the sweet, kind girl he first met.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

Daire had heard of the clown before. As Batman's greatest foe, he was researched along with him. Well, a lot of Batman's main villains were studied. But the clown was at the top of the list.

His laughter was annoying, it being the only sound as he took over the broadcasting services.

"Hello, ladies and gentlemen! It is I, your dear friend Joker."

"And I'm Harley!" an upbeat girl caked in makeup popped in.

Joker pushed her out of the shot, annoyed. "Yes. Anyways, don't bother changing-"

Daire didn't care for this. She just wanted to rest after the beating she took from the dynamic duo. The bump on her head was very tender, though she hid it well.

She returned to the last channel she had watched.

"- because I'm on all of them!"

Daire glared at the clown, flipping through a few more. He wasn't wrong. He was on every channel.

"Now, we're gonna play a little game. Oh, doesn't that sound fun?"

"It sure does, puddin'," Harley answered from off screen.

"Harley, we talked about this," he growled, his eyes looking away from the camera.

"Right. Sorry, puddin'."

He was quick to return to his cheery self. "But what game are we playing? A little game I like to call, 'Can Batsy save them all?' The rules: every thirty minutes, a contestant will be exposed to my intoxicating Joker Gas." The screen flickered to different hostages in chains in various places. "At the same time, a bomb will blow up somewhere in the city." A clip of an explosion played. Then Joker returned, leaning close to the lense. "Sound like a blast, eh?" He erupted in a fit of laughter. "Now, Batsy, you have have a choice. Prevent someone from having the funniest day of their life or stop a bomb. I have seven of each."