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thislovelylady:

Lenora was quiet for a moment, brow perked. Then she laughed. “Is the list that long? Jesus.”

Well. Might as well make friends with a dangerous one, right? Shrugging, she let it go. It’s not like he had to force her to speak up about why she was here herself.

“Then what do I have to look forward to while I’m here? Because God knows I won’t be out for a long time.” 

"All the people! There are so many in-ter-esting ones here. The docs, too. Have you met Dr. Leland yet? She's my favorite and I'm hers." He took some pride in being her favorite – even if she claimed that she didn't have a favorite – and made sure to tell all the newbies that. How else would they know to stay in their lane?

"We also have Mexican Night on Wednesdays. Do you like Mexican?" Sliding onto his stomach, he folds his arms and kicks his legs behind him as if he were at a slumber party. "Anyway, what meds are they putting you on? Do you know?" Sometimes he took his meds and other times he buried them in the soil of the rec room's plant. When questioned about it, he would always say that he was giving the plant nourishment.

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Batman: The Enemy Within Fallen Friend / Best Enemy

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reliefinabottle:

Bruce wracked his brain, trying to think of what to say. He had to think of something that John would want. But what would that be? A serum for Harley? But how would he get that without hurting someone?

“Me. We both know this is about hurting me. You can do better than hurting employees. I can tell you how to hurt me best. In a better way than this.”

"Oh really? In a way better than this, you say?" Stepping forward into the man's personal space, he leans in so that only Bruce can hear. "Like telling everyone your little secret? Talk about major blackmail material." 

Just the thought of having that important piece of information at his disposal made him all tingly inside! "So, is your suggestion really better than mine? Okay, you have my interest." He perches himself on the table in front of the CEO, one leg bent over the other. "Come on, Bruce. Speak up! Let us all hear what you're thinking!"

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what was it exactly that tipped u off as to bruces identity as batman? any specific moment or a gradual realisation?

“One time we were at this café and the bat signal appeared and, uh, Bruce made up some excuse out of nowhere and then whoosh! Gone like a flash! That was pretty telling.” It was funny to look back at that moment and realize just how obvious Bruce had been. In a way, it was quite endearing. Did he really think he was being subtle?

“And then I realized that a playboy billionaire really shouldn’t be so good at fighting, you know? A guy like that being that skilled at hand-to-hand combat? Nah, that doesn’t really add up no matter what excuse he tries to come up with.” Then he realized that whoever was behind the mask must have a hell of a lot of money to put towards all that fancy, high-tech gear.

“It all started to fall into place after that. The evidence just kept piling up. I felt like a detective myself!” His grin stretches. “Maybe I could even give Batman a run for his money one day…”

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reliefinabottle:

Bruce’s mouth tightened into a thin line when John yelled. His heart was rising steadily from his chest to his throat. His palms were beginning to sweat as he clasped them together in front of him. He had to keep John calm. Who knew what he would do if he grew angry enough.

The employees looked at each other nervously, unsure of what to do. Two decided not to raise their hands while the other two raised them. They didn’t want to risk this mad man’s wrath, but didn’t know how to go about doing so.

Bruce would move to intercept between Jerome and John when he was kicked, stopped by the two gunman who pulled him back. His worst fears were put to the surface as the gunshot echoed through the building.

“NO!” He yelled, struggling against the goons, trying to break free. A wave of guilt and rage flooded him. “This is between you and me John! Nobody else! Let them go! No one else has to die!”

"Didn't I JUST tell you that it's Joker?!" He huffs. "That's just like you, Brucie-boy. You never listen." Shoulders shrug, unimpressed by Bruce's attempts to stop him. "Oh, really? It's between us, is it?" A gloved hand hovers over his own mouth as he feigns a yawn. "Booooring. I want to include others in our fun!" And if killing people hurt Bruce the most, then he was going to do it. It's the least he can do for poor little John who had succumbed to the being he truly was.

He crosses his arms.

"So, what are you proposing then? What are you offering in exchange for their lives?" He had the power to kill each and every person in this room right now. Whatever Bruce had in mind, it had better be worth his time. Fingers tap against the inside of his arm as a brow raises. "...I'm waiting."

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thislovelylady:

“Of course I do. Otherwise, I’d be a lot more upset about being in here.” She sighed, as though she had been letting out a long-held breath. Well, on that thought, maybe she had. “I wasn’t wronged in any way. I earned a place here, after all, and I was always aware of what I was doing.”

She paused. Then amended, “On second thought, I don’t believe I should be in Arkham per se. Not on my first offense. I was a very good person before this, you know. I didn’t harm a fly. But I suppose if you butcher one body in Arkham, they think you’re going to do it again…”

She wouldn’t have. Probably.

Her eyes had been focused on the paint chipping on one edge of her door and she started to pick and peel at it, but finally glanced back up at John. Oddly enough, she smiled.

“That was a lot more cathartic than I imagined it was going to be. Thank you.” Fingers tapped against the edge of the tiny window. “What about you, huh? What are you in for?”

"No problem. That's what friends are for." Yes, they were already friends in his eyes. Rocking back a bit, his knees draw up to his chest with his arms wrapping around them. He whistles a loud tune that fills the silence following her question. Not a peep was heard from the others on the cell block. Finally! Peace at last!

"What am I in for?" His Arkham issued slippers scrape lightly across the floor as his position shifts once again. Sitting in the one spot for too long was haaaard. "Wouldn’t that be a story to tell...?" Filled with plot twists! And likable heroes! Maybe an epic finale if he could somehow squeeze it in without it being too cliché.

"I haven't quite figured out the details yet, but I'll get back to you when I do." And that's all he'll say about that. Teeth reveal themselves in a slightly vicious grin before he resumes his whistling. 

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reliefinabottle:

This had certainly been an unexpected turn of events. To have John turn up here, now of all places…Well, he should have been expecting this, he rationed. John had always had a near obsession with Bruce. It looked like that hadn’t been quelled, even after that night at the funhouse.

Bruce kept a composed, calm expression, even though on the inside it was a flurry of emotions and thoughts. What would John do here? What did he want? Was he mad enough to murder just to get back at him? His gaze flickered between Regina, to Adam, Jerome, and Zach, worry starting to seep through via his eyes. John had more than shown that he wasn’t opposed to violence. If anything, it excited him.

He gave a small noise when John pushed him into his chair, immediately standing back up again. He would prefer to be ready to move, if John would allow it. Maybe he could manage to save one, if he was fast enough? He didn’t like the odds.

“You look great John. Love the outfit.” He hastily blurted out. Anything to keep his employees safe, and the blood off his hands. Make no mistake, it would be his fault they died. He would possibly indirectly bring the knife down on them all because he hadn’t trusted John. The thought made his stomach turn. He put on a weak smile to try and seem all the more convincing. His eyes pleaded with John not to do anything too rash. It was a look he wasn’t used to, a powerless gaze that made him feel weak. He’d rather feel weak than have people die, though.

"IT'S JOKER." His fist pounds the shiny wood of the long table. One hard swallow later, his back straightens and a hand strokes through his hair. "Ahaha... almost lost my cool there." The chair Bruce had just sprung up from is used as a step for him to take his place back on the table once again. He liked to tower over those still sitting.

"Raise your hands if you believe him." He could tell that Brucie Boy was lying. See, unlike poor little John, he didn't overlook the telltale signs that Wayne was displaying. If that pathetic waste of space had just used his brain, then perhaps he'd still be around today. Unfortunately (or fortunately, in his mind), John Doe was now dead. Killed by the very man he thought understood him. The man he thought he could trust.

Joker's grin stretches until it looks like it might split his face. "Methinks he's telling fibs! Again! He does this all the time, you guys. I bet you already know that, hm?" Despite his seemingly cheerful demeanor, he held a dark glint in his eye. Suddenly, aims a kick at the nearest member of Wayne Enterprises. One of the men. As his shoe connects with his head the way a footballer would boot a football, the man is sent backwards and crashes to the floor. A breathy giggle from Joker's throat is accompanied by Regina's quiet sobs. Those green eyes lock with Bruce’s blue.

"Sorry, Bruce! You're known for your false words and I'm not falling for it!" He gestures to one of his loyal goons before he crouches on the table, forearms resting on his knees. "Be a dear and kill this one for me, Davie." And just like that, a shot rings out in the large room as the first person is murdered right before their eyes.

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thislovelylady:

Ah, the naivete of men. Lenora let it go, because clearly changing his mind was a fruitless endeavour. But she did take note of it.

His interest was…refreshing, though. She had a feeling he was going to get some kind of high from it and didn’t want to encourage such behavior, but it would be nice to repeat the damned story without stony grim expressions or looks of disgust.

“As I said before, I murdered my ex. I’ll skip over the unnecessary details, but we’ve been together for a very long time. Since high school, I think, so…” She hummed, fingernails tapping the door. “… Nearly ten years. I knew he wasn’t a good person, per se, but I suppose I thought I could encourage a better behavior in him. I let a lot of things slide that I shouldn’t have.”

“But I was in love…and I was dedicated. I realize now that the past three years, he was getting increasingly terrible in hopes of chasing me away – instead of simply telling me what was wrong. So the more he resisted, the more I insisted on being by his side. And then this past year, I think he gave up, and just went back to doing whatever he wanted because he thought he could get away with it.

“It would have continued like that, with me wallowing in misery but hopelessly devoted regardless, if he hadn’t done the one thing I despise: going off with other women. He had been making a habit of it and I had caught him several times, and pleaded with him to stop. But he wouldn’t. Despite every warning I gave him.

“So I stalked all of the women he was cheating on me with and asked them to stop seeing him. All of them did and apologized…except for one. She seemed intent on staying with him, explaining how much he hated me and how I should be the one to leave. That was…not a good decision on her part.

She also wasn’t very smart in general. I work at a pharmacy and have a masters in chemistry, so it wasn’t difficult to gain access to certain drugs and modify them for my own purposes. She already forgot what I looked like a few months after we met, so I sat beside her at a bar and ordered the same drink. Added a tranquilizer to her drinks and switched them when she was in the bathroom. When she started getting woozy, I offered to help her get to a cab… and took her to my car instead.

“I took her to Sato’s apartment. He was off on a ‘work trip’, so I knew that meant he was sleeping with someone else and wouldn’t be home until morning. So I seized the opportunity while she was still out of it to tie her to his bed. I overdosed her with a few more drugs that I knew would kill her over time, but slowly. She was only mildly conscious when i went to retrieve the kitchen knives; aware of what was going on but high enough to be numb to the pain. I remember she was muttering and pleading and I made sure to get it all on video when I recorded it.”

By now John wasn’t the only one listening. Some of the chatter had died down around them. It encouraged Lenora to continue with a bit more emotion in her voice.

“I carved her up. It’s hard to describe because I don’t remember a lot of it and without the photos, it doesn’t really do it justice – but I do remember having some trouble with her ribcage, so I had to take a screwdiver and hit it with a hammer to break them. I removed her limbs and left her open on his bed, but kept her face intact for later. Then I went into the kitchen and used the meat to make my darling a surprise welcome home breakfast.

“…I’ve watched a lot of Hannibal on Amazon so I think that was my inspiration,” She shrugged and continued: “He came home, mildly surprised and irritated to see me there. But his breakfast was delicious. I had made him sausage and bacon and… lots of other delicious things.

“He had a small TV in the dining area so I asked if he wouldn’t mind letting me finish a movie while we ate. I had filmed everything rather close up, so he wouldn’t notice who the victim was or recognize his bedroom right away.

He kept calling me weird and creepy for watching a horror movie while eating breakfast but watched it anyway. At about the three minute mark, he insisted he was finished and was going to sleep. I asked him if he at least liked his breakfast and he said that he did.

“He found her in his bedroom, flayed as I had left her. While he screamed, I came up behind him and asked if he liked breakfast again before injecting him with the same drug.When he woke up, he was on the bed bound next to the woman’s body. I kept her head right next to his, turned to stare at him. And then I put the movie on the large screen in his bedroom and we finished it while I spoon-fed him the rest of her.

I recorded this, too. You know – for memories. Because I was tired of him being a terrible boyfriend, despite how wonderful and devoted I always was to him. I explained to him everything he did that hurt me and kept feeding him until he choked, and then I’d stop, and then kept feeding him until there wasn’t a lot left of her. Eventually, since raw human isn’t good for you, he died.

Then I carved him up, too. Not into tiny pieces, but just enough to be able to transport. I dumped him in various locations, but apparently I wasn’t thorough enough with my clean-up. They caught me and his family was beside themselves; sadly, they didn’t take too kindly to my explanation that it was their neglect that transformed him into such a horrid being.

“…And here I am. Satisfied?”

Yes! Storytime. And hopefully a long one, too! One that had an interesting plot and character growth. Ooh, a plot twist or two wasn't something he was opposed to either. Damn, he enjoyed a good plot twist.

Settling in for the tale, chin rests upon the back of his hands. As soon as that word "love" is mentioned, there's a slight wrinkle in his nose. Look, he didn't have anything against love, but it wasn't something he could relate to. At the age he was – which he didn’t quite know – John had never experienced anything like that before. There had been times when he thought he might have succumbed to the feeling (or was it a choice??), but he soon realized that it had only been a passing fancy. Nothing more.

Did he feel like he was missing out? Hm, perhaps. How would he ever know? How could one miss something that they've never had? Was love really all that? Hell, he couldn’t even remember ever feeling a platonic love before. On one hand, maybe it was simpler to live life without love. From what he'd heard, it came with all sorts of drama. Like a soap opera! Or like that depressing movie he once saw down at the Monarch Theater. There hadn't been any plot twists in that. Or maybe there had been. He fell asleep twenty minutes in.

Anyway! Back to Lenora's Storytime!

Like the good audience member he is, he gasps and shakes his head in all the right places. At other moments, his eyes widen like a cartoon and his mouth remains agape. Several blinks later and a "No way!", they're at the meat of the story. And what a perfect choice of words. As Lenora describes how she butchered the body and then made the remains into a meal for the cheating son of a bitch, John claps his hands together gleefully.

"This is all kinds of messed up, but I'm into it! Not in that way. I don't follow the cannibal lifestyle, but I respect those who live their life differently to me." This guy she fed didn't have a choice, but whatever! He should have remembered the manners his mommy taught him and maybe then he would have still been alive.

Just a thought.

As she concludes the story, he resumes his nodding. Yes, he could see where this was going. Carving him up and dumping him in different locations was smart. Unfortunately, to use her own words, she hadn't been thorough enough with the clean-up. That was the part that always seemed to trip people up. Like love, that was another thing he couldn't relate to. At least, he didn't think he could. His memory from before Arkham was sort of hazy. Okay, not sort of. Very! He likes to think that he hadn't ever killed anyone and yet he isn't sure he'd pass one of those quirky lie detector tests if he were asked.

After her finishing line, he applauds. Did she really have to ask if he was satisfied? "That was the best story I've heard in a long time. I like the part with the body on the bed. Keeping her face intact was a nice touch. It's a shame you were caught. I mean, the guy deserved it, right? If people don't want bad things to happen to them, then they shouldn't do bad things." Sound logic? He certainly thought so.

"Do you feel good about what you did? Was it everything you hoped it would be?"

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@reliefinabottle

"Oh, such rage in your eyes, Bruce. I think I kinda like it..." The back of his gloved fingers stroke almost affectionately against the CEO's cheek. "You didn't think you'd see me again, did you? I don't blame you... Why would I pay you a visit after what you did to me? I must be out of my mind. Stark raving mad!" His soft action swiftly turns aggressive with fingers curling around Bruce's chin. "But I couldn't let you get away that easily. Not without showing you the new me! The me you created." Voice laced with venom, the billionaire is shoved back against the seat.

"So, ta-da. Here I am. I think it's an improvement." Flicking non-existent specks of dust from his coat, he grins. "Tell me how good I look and I might just spare the lives of all of your little worker ants here." He turns to regard them, eyes showing just how indifferent he was. Scared little ants, quivering in their fancy clothes. Sparkling jewelry adorning the fingers and neck of the woman. What was her name again? It’s on the tip of his tongue! Uh... Rachel? Rebecca? Didn't matter. She wouldn't be around for much longer. He's sure the undertaker would engrave the right name on her tombstone.

His eyes move towards the men. Dressed to the nines, of course. He wonders if it was mandatory for all employees of the illustrious Bruce Wayne to wear such duds. They were all so boring! Turning back to the man himself, he winks. "Go on, Mr. Wayne. Tell me how good I look." He was testing him. Wondering how far he'd play along before attempting to lash out. Would he really do such a thing while in the company of masked me with guns pointed at the heads of him and his employees?

He's shivering with anticipation...!

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Кирпич means brick and Batman’s face

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ever wanted to see Batman’s heart shatter into million pieces?

there you go

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ever seen nora, freezes wife? whats up with that whole situation anyway?

“Honestly? I don’t know what that whole thing’s about. I get what he’s trying to do, but she’s been that way for years and he isn’t any closer to curing her. Okay, sure, he loves her or whatever, but it’s really sad, you know? In a pathetic way.” Hey, someone had to say it! “It’s been years and he’s turned into this psychotic, obsessive, creep.” He wasn’t exactly sure how many years Freeze had been doing this, but he knew it had been a long, long time.

“He doesn’t stop to think about what his wife would want. If she knew what he was doing, do you think she’d approve of the man he’s become?” Could he even be called a man anymore? “What if she’s eventually brought back and then sees the monster he is now? What if she sees that he’s no longer the man she loved and then leaves him? Then it would have been for nothing.” All that time and effort wasted. “I say he should pull the plug on that ice box. Isn’t that what people do all the time for their loved ones?” If someone was on life support with no chance of waking up, then most would put them out of their misery and let them slip away peacefully.

Not keep them in a frozen state for years on end. Quite frankly, it was sick.

“I haven’t seen her in person, but the pictures were enough.”

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thoughts on the pact? obvs we kno ur feelings about harley, but what about bane and freeze?

“I try to stay out of Bane’s way for obvious reasons. Have you seen that guy? He’s a monster.” One that he didn’t want to cross or converse with if he didn’t have his favorite beer on hand. “We don’t really get along, but I don’t hate him. I just don’t know him all that well.” Would he be opposed to spending a bit more time with him? Yeah, probably, but he wouldn’t say that to his face. Fingers come to rest beneath his chin, a thoughtful glance is given to the ceiling.

“Freeze is… unique.” That was one way to describe the walking popsicle. “He doesn’t talk much and when he does, it’s just to yell at me for something.” Even if it was something he didn’t do! Just. Like. Riddler. Wrinkling his nose at the thought of that stinking corpse, he shrugs and quickly wipes the disgusted expression from his features.

“I get on best with Harley and Bruce!” And that’s really all that mattered!

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thislovelylady:

“No. My mother just liked it.” Simple as that. She hadn’t had anyone be that curious about her name before, though… Well, whatever.

“Mm, I don’t know… all the cat-calling turned me off to most of them. And I’m not very fond of that kind of interaction at the moment. Reminds me too much of my ex.”

Why not tell him what she did? They could be heard by the other ‘livewires’ as he put it – maybe that’d keep them away.

“He’s the reason I’m in here. Or, well. His family is. Wasn’t much left of him to do anything when i was through with him.”

"They're just playing." A wave of the hand to dismiss whatever concerns she had in that head of hers. "Most of them don't care about that kinda thing. Unless you give them a reason to." It was easy enough to keep certain individuals away. Everyone in here had their own issues and mostly kept to themselves unless they were provoked. John sometimes did just that, but only when the days were slow and there was nothing else to do.

He snickers. "You killed a guy? Wow, no wonder you're in here." Murderers were usually sent to Blackgate, so why not her? He presses himself against the door, eyes shining with a curiosity that he doesn’t attempt to hide. "So, how did you do it? Don't go leaving out a single gory detail, okay? It's been ages since I heard a new story..."

He had all the other stories memorized along with a fair amount of Zsasz’s tales and, as interesting they had once been, to hear them repeated over and over could get really boring.

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i have to ask. fuck/marry/kill, bruce, batman, harley. im so sorry.

If he had been drinking at that precise moment, he would have choked and spluttered all over his phone screen. What kind of question was this?! He peers at the sender, but it’s a number he doesn’t recognize. He frowns. These anonymous texts had been appearing a lot lately and he knew he should feel some amount of concern…

But he kinda likes the attention.

“I couldn’t possibly answer that! I mean, it’s really not fair on the people involved.” A pause. “Not that they’d ever know…” He mutters, averting his gaze. So, if nobody would ever know, then was it really so bad if he played along?

“Well, I would probably marry Harley. Uh—and then…” Wait. This was too hard!! He didn’t want to kill Bruce or Batman!! And to do the other option with them…?! No, no, no! How EMBARRASSING. Bruce was his best friend and Batman was his hero! To do something like that with him was so disrespectful! Somehow…?

And he didn’t even swing that way!

“I don’t want to play anymore.” Mouth turning into a snarl, the phone’s shoved down the bar’s counter. “Can I get another drink over here?” He desperately needed one now that all these confusing thoughts were filling his already crowded mind.

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John is a very awkward person in a way that can be quite endearing. He says things like “You too!” when someone wishes him a happy birthday (not that he tells anyone when that is) or if the bartender tells him to enjoy his drink at the bar, he’ll say “same to you!” He also blurts out random words that don't go with a conversation because he sometimes spends too long trying to think up “cool” responses and then misses the opportunity.

After saying something dumb, he'll sometimes berate himself under his breath. He thinks that nobody can hear him when he does this. If someone points out something he said or calls him "stupid", he either freezes up and doesn't know how to respond or he'll lash out and demand they apologize for being rude.