Post by The Joker on Jun 2, 2014 19:00:58 GMT
{June 10, around 2am - Open to all the heroes and villains of Gotham}
A car alarm was wailing somewhere down the street. Somewhere else, a man and woman were screaming at each other, sometimes cut off with heavy thuds. Gotham was never fully asleep, like some great reeking monster that refused to be put down, keeping one ugly eye peeled wide. But at this hour, all the smart people were locked up tight, bundled in their beds waiting for morning to come.
It was funny, to him, how the ownership of property made people feel so safe.
Like rats, thugs in hoodies and clown masks were scattering about, darting in and out of the alleys.
Joker had been relatively well behaved over the last few months, saving up for the big show. And now - the most glorious rumor of all. Bats as back. And what had the criminal world done to celebrate, to welcome him home? It was pitiful, really, but of course it fell to him to do the honors. He'd tested his gas, the variant of Scarecrows own creation, enough to know the manic laughter and insanity to created. He'd dubbed it Laughing Gas. Once it wore off, though, you were either dead or malformed. Or both. One had to admire the ones who were both.
Standing in the middle of the road, his purple and green gas-mask on, he looked around, trying to find his female partner in crime. She'd throw a fit if she didn't get to be a part of the activating.
Then again, why should Harley have all the fun?
"The isty bitsy Batsy, left Gotham for a bought," he murmured, strolling down the lane. "Down came to clowns, and flushed the Bats all out."
There was the softest beep, and the canisters at the base of all the buildings exploded. In seconds three blocks in every directionwas consumed in a thick cloud of green, thick, inescapable fog. And suddenly all those people tucked away in their beds, were anything but safe.
A car alarm was wailing somewhere down the street. Somewhere else, a man and woman were screaming at each other, sometimes cut off with heavy thuds. Gotham was never fully asleep, like some great reeking monster that refused to be put down, keeping one ugly eye peeled wide. But at this hour, all the smart people were locked up tight, bundled in their beds waiting for morning to come.
It was funny, to him, how the ownership of property made people feel so safe.
Like rats, thugs in hoodies and clown masks were scattering about, darting in and out of the alleys.
Joker had been relatively well behaved over the last few months, saving up for the big show. And now - the most glorious rumor of all. Bats as back. And what had the criminal world done to celebrate, to welcome him home? It was pitiful, really, but of course it fell to him to do the honors. He'd tested his gas, the variant of Scarecrows own creation, enough to know the manic laughter and insanity to created. He'd dubbed it Laughing Gas. Once it wore off, though, you were either dead or malformed. Or both. One had to admire the ones who were both.
Standing in the middle of the road, his purple and green gas-mask on, he looked around, trying to find his female partner in crime. She'd throw a fit if she didn't get to be a part of the activating.
Then again, why should Harley have all the fun?
"The isty bitsy Batsy, left Gotham for a bought," he murmured, strolling down the lane. "Down came to clowns, and flushed the Bats all out."
There was the softest beep, and the canisters at the base of all the buildings exploded. In seconds three blocks in every directionwas consumed in a thick cloud of green, thick, inescapable fog. And suddenly all those people tucked away in their beds, were anything but safe.
