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[personal profile] makeemlaugh
The Phaeton is one of the oldest, most famous comedy clubs in Gotham, a traditional place for hot young comics to cut their teeth. Its brass facade is broadcast throughout the country on the “One AM at the Phaeton” program, but the best comedy, aficionados say, is when the cameras are off. Its purer.

A set's just finished, and the lights dim. No one notices men in coats ease towards the exits, or anything threatening about the thin shape making its way to the stage. The MC reads his placard, “Wasn't she great folks? Loved the joke about the...well, all of them! Next up is a special guest, an old favorite under the name...E. Kelley?”

The lights go on. The clown smiles.

“Holy cats its the Joker!” A man in the audience shouts.

“Where?!” Joker turns around, shocked, and before the screams start he holds up a hand. Its Gotham, people know how to avoid sudden death by explosion. “Listen, listen, listen. I'm flattered, really, but I'm not here for WORK. There are, naturally, ah heh, precautions...I can't resist a captive audience...but, well. Sigh. Can ol'Uncle J be real with you kids for a second?”

“Who here's ever been abducted by aliens?” Joker raises his hand, and pauses, as if expecting a response. “Anyone? Hmm? You in the back? Well, I was! They wanted me for a comedian, which was actually a bit flattering...except they didn't laugh!” Joker tsks, pacing a bit. “I had to resort to physical comedy, of all things! So I thought I'd sharpen my act! To keep it simple, no one panics or calls the fuzz, we all get out of here alright. Shall we? Ahem.” Joker sprays his mouth with something, and winks.

“Anyone remember Commissioner Loeb? Big guy, white suits, kind of had that balding teacher you didn't want to leave little Stan or Susie alone with look going on? Gloriously incompetent? I miss him, I really do.” Joker looks nostalgic for a second, “But what always threw people off about the old man was, well, the cartoons. I don't know how many of you babies have been in the guy's office but it was everywhere! Mice, ducks, loved the Cashews kids. You know I kidnapped the guy who wrote those comics once, but that's a different story, the point is we're all used to cops being gruff and grim with an optional heart of gold and here's a guy who dresses and acts like everyone's creepy uncle. So I think, what's your angle Loeb? And by think I mean, you know, kidnap." Joker shrugs like this is a normal train of thought. "People just aren't direct enough you know! So I'm there, he's there, we're in one of those convenient sewer tunnels that whatever mad genius that designed this city just put EVERYWHERE, and I've even decorated a little. Ah heh, to set the mood. He barely notices, the swine, just gives the usual you'll never get away with this banter and the Bat's late, I suppose, so I just ask him, Loeb, what's with the kiddy shit?”

“The man looks at me and starts blubbering." Joker makes a little crybaby motion over his eyes, "Says he gets that all the time. He just likes them! Though it made him approachable, reminded him of good times growing up. Doesn't understand how it's any different from sports trophies or pictures of your boat or anything else and the thing, he said, about saying 'you'd never touch a kid' is that it makes a certain sort of mind all the more ready to believe you'd touch a kid and God if that wasn't true!”

“I let the guy go. What could be funnier than that?”

Coming Home

Dec. 8th, 2016 11:51 pm
soundsmith: (Serious Costume)
[personal profile] soundsmith
The rain poured down, drenching his clothing as he stood out there, staring frozen at the empty mansion. A couple of his rats scurried up his body to find some small semblance of shelter under his hood, before eagerly lapping up a few of the droplets that ran down his face and dripped off his earlobe. His face softened slightly at the reminder that his 'pets' were present.

"I'm sorry, my lovelies. We'll be out of the rain soon."

Just as soon as he built up the courage to walk through that door. Technically, the mansion was his. He was, after all, the heir to the Rathaway fortune, their property included, seeing as his parents had welcomed him back into their lives and their will along with it before they were murdered. And that, of course, was the reason why he had trouble lifting his feet and forcing himself to go inside. He hadn't been there since he'd been arrested for their murder, something he later was acquitted for when it became clear that the Mirror Master was the culprit. Still, he wasn't sure which haunted him more, the thoughts of them, lying dead in their home, or the fact that part of him almost expected to be able to knock on the door and have them answer.

Yet, part of him knew he had to do this. To deal with this. So much had happened in the years following his parents' death, and he'd focused on bringing Mirror Master to justice (which he hadn't actually managed to do), ended up on the run a few times, spent some time in prison, but, well...he'd never come back here. And the place was in his name now, so he really should.

Hartley was about to force himself to take another step when he heard footsteps behind him. Approaching him.


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Watchtower Rebirth

September 2017



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