Look at Joker, Hartley. He KNOWS you want to nerd out about sound.
His grin twitches a bit as Piper mentions mental care. "They say Arkham's built on cursed ground, you know. Never explained why they don't MOVE the damn place, it's not like the Waynes don't have the money. I mean Martha Wayne was a KANE, that's two of the biggest fortunes in town smashing together. Embarrassing."
"I do note that a lot of Flash 'rogues' tend to go straight for a few years. Didn't Cold have a bounty hunting company with his sister? Shame what happened to her." Joker says with faux sincerity, "They always snap back, though. I wonder how long you have, Hartley?"
Joker's smile twitches as a plan comes together. Later, though. The people are...kind of blaise at the bomb threat.
It IS Gotham, but really.
Meanwhile, Ralph's clever move isn't bringing up any real dividends. Did Joker lie about his escape incentive? Probably not completely; Ralph knows Joker's files well enough to know that while the clown acts like his crimes are utterly improvised sometimes, he's actually a meticulous planner and never, ever goes in public without an escape plan. Someone must have triggered a silent alarm by now, furthermore, and Joker has to be stalling for time for SOME reason.
Near an air vent, Ralph can hear it. Is that...digging under the floor? Voices, definitely. But what would people want in a comedy club's basement?
"I mean they say there are criminal tendencies in everyone. I suppose I believe that." Joker paces, as if seriously considering this. "As much as we'd like to think we're evolved to be so law abiding and civilized, all you need to do is go to LA during riot season to see the real face of the species."
Joker pauses for a long moment, and leans back. "You know, that reminds me of my favorite story about motherly love. Would you all like to hear it? Not that, ah hah, you have much of a choice..."
"...it all starts with yours truly lying low one fine evening. You see the Justice League was a little, ah, upset about a caper of mine...who knew they were all so attached to the little librarian?...and what could politely be called a manhunt was out for me. What's worse, thanks to the BASE TREACHERY of a few of my associates, many of my hidden assets were, ah hah, less so. So there I was, tired, hunted by the most powerful team of super zeroes on the planet, and worst of all broke. It takes a lot of money to play on my stage, folks. Hell, I was down to one henchman!"
"Fortunately, I had a little something up my sleeve. It had been originally intended for play, but it could work for me. A...friend in the department of defense arranged for it to fall into my possession." Joker hugs himself at the memory, the thrill of that much power under his hilarious thumb. "My very own nuclear powered cruise missile!"
"Sure I had to sell it, but it warmed my heart that it'd make SOMEONE unhappy."
no subject
His grin twitches a bit as Piper mentions mental care. "They say Arkham's built on cursed ground, you know. Never explained why they don't MOVE the damn place, it's not like the Waynes don't have the money. I mean Martha Wayne was a KANE, that's two of the biggest fortunes in town smashing together. Embarrassing."
"I do note that a lot of Flash 'rogues' tend to go straight for a few years. Didn't Cold have a bounty hunting company with his sister? Shame what happened to her." Joker says with faux sincerity, "They always snap back, though. I wonder how long you have, Hartley?"
Joker's smile twitches as a plan comes together. Later, though. The people are...kind of blaise at the bomb threat.
It IS Gotham, but really.
Meanwhile, Ralph's clever move isn't bringing up any real dividends. Did Joker lie about his escape incentive? Probably not completely; Ralph knows Joker's files well enough to know that while the clown acts like his crimes are utterly improvised sometimes, he's actually a meticulous planner and never, ever goes in public without an escape plan. Someone must have triggered a silent alarm by now, furthermore, and Joker has to be stalling for time for SOME reason.
Near an air vent, Ralph can hear it. Is that...digging under the floor? Voices, definitely. But what would people want in a comedy club's basement?
"I mean they say there are criminal tendencies in everyone. I suppose I believe that." Joker paces, as if seriously considering this. "As much as we'd like to think we're evolved to be so law abiding and civilized, all you need to do is go to LA during riot season to see the real face of the species."
Joker pauses for a long moment, and leans back. "You know, that reminds me of my favorite story about motherly love. Would you all like to hear it? Not that, ah hah, you have much of a choice..."
"...it all starts with yours truly lying low one fine evening. You see the Justice League was a little, ah, upset about a caper of mine...who knew they were all so attached to the little librarian?...and what could politely be called a manhunt was out for me. What's worse, thanks to the BASE TREACHERY of a few of my associates, many of my hidden assets were, ah hah, less so. So there I was, tired, hunted by the most powerful team of super zeroes on the planet, and worst of all broke. It takes a lot of money to play on my stage, folks. Hell, I was down to one henchman!"
"Fortunately, I had a little something up my sleeve. It had been originally intended for play, but it could work for me. A...friend in the department of defense arranged for it to fall into my possession." Joker hugs himself at the memory, the thrill of that much power under his hilarious thumb. "My very own nuclear powered cruise missile!"
"Sure I had to sell it, but it warmed my heart that it'd make SOMEONE unhappy."