Tears Of A Clown

Summary:
<November 19, 2014>: The Joker put Tim in the hospital. Vorpal is determined to return the favor.

Gotham Midtown

It's Gotham. Ew.


Characters

NPCs

  • Joker henchmen
  • Arkham orderlies

Mood Music:
Exit Strategy Of A Wrecking Ball


Joker has a plan. Oh he often has a plan not that most people see it. Most people only see the insanity and assume that anything that chaotic is antithetical to any kind of long term sustained action. This is a mistake and one reason why the Joker busts out of Arkham so often. It's easy to assume that he's 'just a crazy guy'. Sure a dangerous psychotic one, but just a nutjob really. He's not. He's a nutjob with a plan. Those are much more dangerous.

This plan involves a lot of odds and ends that he's stolen over the past few days. Lab coat, uniforms, exxplosives, gasoline, pharmesuticals. And it's all coming together. Mistah J juuuuuust needs a couple more things. One of these is an aicrompresser large enough to power one of those famous 'pumkin cannons' that people make round this time of year, which means it's time to rob an industrial suppply area. Well 'break in to' rather. It's late. No one's around. Not that this has ever stopped the Joker before.

No one is around indeed. Or at least that is how it would appear to the naked eye.

There was a stalker in the night. A creature capable of becoming invisible at a thought, of moving silently with, as the saying goes, 'little cat feet'. There is someone looking for the Joker.

Someone broke Robin, and now that someone had to face what was coming to them.

Vorpal first encountered the joker while robbing a hardware store. Garfield pointed out that the clown never stole anything at random and that therefore something was being built.

This was helpful, because it told the cheshire at least enough to eke out a wide patrol route in specific parts in Gotham, places where valuable equipment was being kept. Industrial components.

His nocturnal eyes pick up on something… what is it? Laying low to the rooftop, even though nobody could see him in his invisibility, the Cheshire grows still and listens, letting the wind carry the sounds that he needs to hear.

Yes. There's one. That'll do. The Joker is in one of his cold, calculating aloof phases. He gestures to the desired component and a number of clown masked thugs immediately begin to move it. Others watch. There's a dozen or so. All heavily armed. Whatever the Clown Prince of Gotham is up to, he clearly didn't want to be interrupted. And this town has a penchant for people interrupting.

Green eyes narrow, and Vorpal has to make a conscious decision to now draw his claws. Cooler heads must prevail, even if he is burning with rage.

A dozen clowns, armed. This was going to take some fine maneuvering-

First things first- secure the Air Compressor.

Crouching on top of a storage drum from where he can get a good view, he focuses on the air compressor. His ability to create constructs was quite versatile- he could release them to gravity once they were created… but he could also simply keep them anchored in mid-air which made them virtually immoveable.

This he does now, creating a thin band that wraps around the construct- hidden from view using his illusion powers, so that when the Joker's thugs try to move it, it will not budge.

The idea was to get as many of the thugs in one place as possible, since more and more would be called to move it… and get the Joker angry at the incompetence of his goons.

That was step one, anyways.

Well certainly part one works. The thugs begin to sweat and strain trying to lift something that should by rights only take three or four of them. Soon there's ten of them all trying to get it moving and the Joker himself is starting to look impatient. He casts about, cataloging alternatives. There are a few suitable ones here and time is rather of the essence.

And now… part two.

It would be rather tempting, using the Chaos Wave to set off the Air Compressor and cause it to become possessed, causing chaos. Yes, tempting, but it would give him away, and Vorpal is not ready for that. There are too many goons with guns.

He keeps his construct in place, and follows the Joker's gaze with an invisible grin.

~Go ahead, choose something else. I do so love keeping your toys away from you…~

Can't reveal his hand too soon. The Joker had control of the Chaos Wave once. He might remember what it feels like.

The Joker does choose something else and in short order his thugs are over at a second air compressor trying to lift it. One has to admire their efficiency at least. Fear of being randomly shot for his amusement must be a powerful motivator.

Ever heard the expression about the cat playing with his meal? Well, it applies here as well. The second compressor receives the first treatment as the first- the invisible construct dismissed from the first and applied to the second, making it just as immoveable.

No toys for the clown. The Cheshire's smile takes a turn for the perverse as he watches the Clown Prince's reaction.

Give the Joker this. He may be crazy but he's not stupid. When the second one won't lift he immediately signals for a stop. "I believe someone is having fun at our expense boys… spread out and start looking. I do so hate not being in on the joke."

~Very good, Joker~ Vorpal thinks, watching the clown react. Time to make things…interesting.

He remembers the Joker carries hallucinogenics. Drugs that he can inject, spread or release against his victims- Robin told him that much, and he himself experienced a taste of it.

It was time to return the favor.

The sound of breathing. Heavy. Masculine, right over the Joker's right shoulder. The aural illusion happens only a few inches away from the Joker's earlobe, but when he turns Vorpal has the visual component of the illusion prepared— the scalloped edges of a cape, like that of the legendary Batman, disappearing behind a large container and into shadows.

The Joker grins. "Ah the Bat's here boys. Let's give him a proper Gotham welcome." The thugs open up in that general direction. They're not… disciplined but clearly they've fought the Bat enough not to simply empty all their ammunition at no target at all. And the Bat's very good at that, honestly.

Vorpal grins from his higher vantage point. Predicable, psychotic. Good. The shadow disappears, of course, into the deeper shadows… but then, there is the flash of a flashbang and smoke that separates the Joker from his minions- smoke that is quickly dispersed by a breeze to reveal the Batman, standing over a downed Joker and ready to deliver a finishing blow.

It might be interesting to note that 'Batman' is standing right where the real Joker is standing.

To quote The Flying Squirrel on that show his mother used to listen to as a kid (and whose reruns she made him listen to): Rule number two of superheroing is to let the bad guys do the work for you.

The Joker was too wiley to let himself be injured mortally by his thugs… but Vorpal is looking to injure him, and injure him in the most insulting way possible- by his own thugs. And the confusion that is to rule immediately afterwards will only add to the points. After that? Vorpal will be ready to reveal his hand and bring it down, heavily.

Two of Joker's thugs spin and shoot at the Batman. The Joker falls, of course, breaking the illusion or at least the effectiveness of it. There's an answering blam from the insane clown's own weapon that ends one of his own henchmen. "It's not him!" The Joker snaps. It's a good illusion but the Joker, perversely, has a rather intimate knowledge of the Bat. He knows when he's dealing with the real thing. And he sounds upset not that he was taken in but that his hoods were. CLearly he needs to recruit better.

Strike one. Vorpal nods… alright, time to get this show on the road.

He looks down at the pile of scrap metal to the far end of the yard. He needs to take care of a few more goons-

The illusions vanish, because now it's time to make it rain. A Rabbit Hole opens up under the scrap, and opens up in the air above Joker's henchmen.

Get a few more down, and he can come in and give the clown and his friends a present, courtesy of the Titans.

Scrap iron rains are not things the Joker's henchmen are typically prepared to handle. And about eight of them do get buried or otherwise incapacitated by, well, scrap. The Joker himself? Even shot he's a bit too fast for that particular trick. He's starting to suspect he's seen this before. Yes… that damn cat. Well he has something for that. Fire.

It only takes a moment. The flinging of a couple improvised incendiaries, but in short order most everything flammable in the area is burning. And smoking. A lot.

Vorpal feels his fur starting to singe and he draws a breath to hold. Alright, time to change strategies.

He steps through a Rabbit Hole to position himself away from the fire- up in that crane is a good choice. It still gives him a vantage look. Three henchmen left- no need to play Hide and Seek anymore. It was time to show himself.

"You like to play with fire, don't you, clown?" a Vorpak steps out of the fire, to the Joker's left.
"As if you could possibly have any spark left in you, you retreaded old hack," A second one steps through a Rabbit Hole, to his right.
"You've never been nothing more than a second-rate Richard Pryor, admit it." A voice comes from the Joker's back. The illusions grin at the Joker and at his goons.

~Yes, clown. Now you know they're not real. Come and find me,~ the cheshire thinks, looking down from the crane. ~Get your gangly ass up here so we can have a proper fight without your thugs.~

Vorpal had considered, for a moment, encasing the Joker and the fire in construct walls, to asphyxiate him with his own smoke… but then he would run the risk of actually killing him, and afoul of The Bat himself. That wasn't something he was willing to do.

The Joker smirks. "Do you know something Cat?" He wheezes. He's already been hit a couple of times. "I've lasted this long against the Bat because I don't play by the rules. And I always have a backup." Even if that backup is just… in the van. Thaaaaaaat's an RPG which the Clown Prince aims at the fence. "You want to talk about hacks you should see some of the people the Bat gets to work for him. Not that he ever comes out to play anymore. Mostly it's the Low Fat Bat and a bunch of kids with no heart and no conviction." Fwoosh. Boom!

"Amateur."

The Rabbit Hole. Odes will be written about such a thing. Vorpal would not be alive today without a judicious use of this miracle of nature. That same Rabbit Hole which opens up to receive the RPOG with open arms—

And which also opens up on the other side, aimed at the van.

BOOOOOOM!

"You know something, Clown?" Vorpal says, becoming visible now and standing against the night sky. "I invented not playing by the rules before you were a speck in Bozo's eye and the better part of you ran down your mother's leg." He flips and lands in a crouch, slitted green eyes staring at the Joker, his body low to the ground and his grin widening. Two Vorpal Swords appear in his hands. "Looks like you broke your car, little clown. Don't worry… there's always a Rabbit Hole to Arkham."

Now the Joker eyes Vorpal with a wild grin? "You? Invented? Oh no, I heard about you. The ones in the woods told me aaaaaaaaaal about you. You didn't invent anything. Oh sure maybe the magic cat who lives in you did? But you? You're nothing but a third rate loser who couldn't even get dying right. You, come up with something original? Hah! Now that is a joke."

"Aw, little clown is down to names now?" a very familiar voice answers. A ghost image appears behind Vorpal, transluscent though very recognizable as the Cait Sidhe. Vorpal snaps his fingers and releases the Chaos Wave into the surrounding area. Objects, debris, metal begins to vibrate with the breath of chaotic life.
"You just need a hug!"

The enchanted material flies with a single-minded tenacity towards the Joker after Vorpal points at the clown dramatically. "I always approve of a bang-up job." Vorpal says.

The Joker can't avoid the chaos storm. Nor the wave of enchanted metal. He is, however, laughing even as he's slammed and injured. "Names? Hehehehehe. Tell me cat? What's the first rule of magic?" Street magic that is. Not all of Joker's thugs went down and the ones who didn't have been alerted to the fact that they're not alone. Since they can't locate a target, on the assumption that he must be nearby, they've simply been preparing to blow the entire place… and they're nearly ready.

"The first rule of magic, Joker, is very simple. Always be the smartest guy in the room. That one, however, is only outdone by the scond rule: Don't try to outsmart the cat."

The world under the Joker collapses into nothingness. The blasted Rabbit Hole opens up again to take both Cheshire and clown high up into the sky, on a breakneck fall towards terminal velocity-

And then another Rabbit Hole, bringing with it a change in orientation that sends Vorpal and the Joker flying horizontally through the air. The gravity shifts are gut-wrenching and sudden, and suddenly it will become clear why Vorpal decided to weaken the Joker with injuries the way he did… so that he could transport him on the Rabbit Hole Express towards the looming structure of Arkham in the distance. A hale Joker would probably be able to put up a fight mid-air… but beat up, and unaccustomed to the terrifying rollercoaster ride of reality holes that Vorpal usually employed as travel (the very same method that caused Green Arrow to scream like a schoolgirl and puke like a landlubber on the high seas, it might be added), well… that was another story.

"Third rule of magic: You mess with the Titans, we mess with you, clown!"

They zoom at breakneck speed, at different angles, towards Arkham. When they get near, he will slow their approach, of coufse… but the final leg of the trip will involve the Joker falling from a rather painful distance to complete his 'treatment', while Vorpal lands on several constructs along the way to slow down his fall. He believes in being neat, and he believes that a mostly conked Joker is the best kind of Joker to deliver.

The moment Vorpal opens the rabit hole the yard explodes. C4 and Thermite and accellerant are powerful things and it's not going to be good, really, for anyone even remotely in the vecinity. Or anyone with an open portal remotely in the vecinity. Or anyone who had money invested in the facility. Which… er… yeah…

You win some, you lose some. As Roseanne Roseannadanna used to say, if it ain't one thing, it's anuddah. If your friend isn't getting beat up by the Joker, a whole industrial yard gets blown up.

"Make sure you put him away nice and tight this time," Vorpal says to the orderlies with a slight glare. "… it's like this goddamn place has a revolving door."


Back to: RP Logs

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 License