Denouement [3] - | J |

01 | poker face

||

GOTHAM had a certain thrill in its air that Joker could never get over. He could sit and stare at the skyline for what seemed like forever, never moving an inch. He would become mesmerized. Tonight was no different, though some small details were obscured.

Joker was a bit shaken, the last bit of his adrenaline slowing leaving his limbs as he let his cigarette dangle lazily between his lips. His gloves were no longer it's signature purple, but now the color took on a much deeper plum tone from his previous actions. The blood had stained the white of his cigarette, causing his brows to tug together in curiosity and surprise. Well that's a first.

"Boss, you ready?" A familiar voice heaved from behind the madman, his seated position on the cliff almost scenic for anyone looking on.

He hadn't responded quickly, sucking his teeth lowly before his tongue lapped out to the corner of his mouth. He was pondering his next move, his mind like a spin-top piece; never fully stopping and never once falling to a complete stop.

He stood up finally, dusting off his theatrical pin stripe pants which needed a good wash—before flicking the near finished cigarette butt off the small cliff overlooking Gotham City's breathtaking skyline.

He could never get tired of that view, it was almost as if liking something so beautiful could make him feel the smallest bit normal again.

—

Joker sat rather comfortably in a seemingly new swivel chair—looking the most menacing—as he watched his newfound henchman clean up his mess before him. His legs crossed upon his ebony desk, his black and white pinstripe pants riding up his ankles to show vivid colored socks. The fashion statement completely clashed with the rest of his outfit—though he liked it all the more because of it.

Void of his signature purple and green ensemble, Joker opted for a black silk button down to match his trousers. He didn't feel colorful today—well outspokenly colorful, so to speak. His socks were really all he could muster up in terms of comicality.

His green curls were a bright fluorescent hue—courtesy of his fresh dye application just the day before. His makeup in contrast, was worn and worked in. A single cigarette sat snug but loosely between his crimson painted lips, his eyes downcast and dark behind the gaudy midnight black greasepaint. He wore black around his eyes because it concealed any emotion, any light he might've held in his hazel hued orbs. He didn't want anyone thinking they had the power of overstepping him—of using any form of emotion against him.

He gripped the cigarette from his lips, letting out a steady stream of smoke that enveloped the small room. Ragged blood splattered patterns littered his ivory colored forearms, the matter settling into his skin and now taking on an almost maroon color. He released a deep breath he hadn't realized he was holding, his gaze now cast upon his right hand man as he walked into the small office space. Upon his arrival, Joker stood with a theatrical outstretch of his arms on either side of him and a smile that stretched from ear to ear. He spoke through his gobsmacked grin, a sight that actually made Twitch shudder only briefly. Four years working for the man and he still would have his moments.

"Twiiiiitch. Whatcha' got for me?"

Twitch cleared his throat briefly before speaking clearly.

"The shipment will arrive on time, eleven—as per requested. As for Sionis...he's a hard nut to crack. He hasn't replied to our outreach."

At that last bit of news, the clowns face turned downward. His once exuberant persona was now flooded with anger—his frightening demeanor back in just a blink of an eye.

"Well then...I guess we have to give Romy a little visit, hm?" He replied, his smile not reaching his eyes as he took one last drag of his cigarette before putting it out on the glass upon the desk in front of him. He then dusted his hands off, grabbing his gun that lay idly on the surface before him and placing it in the waistband of his pants.

He walked out of the suffocatingly small office, with a farewell nod to his henchman as Twitch followed closely on his heels. Joker whistled a familiar tune, one that Twitch realized was a favorite of the painted faced man.

Smile though your heart is aching,
Smile even though it's breaking...

Joker pushed the door at the end of the hall open with veracity, causing a round of fear induced shouts and cries to erupt in the lobby of the office building. He looked around once, stopping in the center of the room with hands on his hips. His whistling stopped as he then smacked his lips, his eyes squinting in mock confusion at the cowering and fear-filled employees. He sighed, putting his arms up and quickly dropping them with a shake of his head.

"This is what happens when you don't keep up your end of the bargain, folks. No...uh...hard feelings." He finished cautiously, his eyes dancing wildly around the room before zoning in on the exit.

With a tilt of his head, Twitch walked towards the exit and held the door for his boss. He walked casually towards his freedom, the time nothing of concern to him. He paused right before stepping out into the warm air, doing a complete three-sixty turn. He reached in his pockets, his digits gripping his wildly familiar signature piece.

Then the whistling from before pursued, the melodic sound turning into a mystifying lyrical performance by the clown as he flicked the calling card into the lobby's center. The card had flitted through the stale air with precision, landing face up as the madman smiled in reply.

You'll find that life is still worth while...
If you just smile.