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The jester boys

Bonus doodle under the cut

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Dynamic duo

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It looks like this post blew up! Thank you guys sm it means the world to me that people are interested in my take of these characters. If you’re curious to learn more, check out my post where you can read his backstory!

Joker concepts

In my AU he is an undead so his skin underneath the makeup is a sickly pale-green

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Some Bill doodles

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All About the Joker Post!

Hello fellow Tumblr users, if you’ve stumbled across this wall of text congrats! You love and enjoy Batman content just as much as I do. This is a dedicated lore dump all about the one and only Joker as he exists in my Batman AU.

If this is the first one you’re reading, here’s a bit of backstory: This AU has existed in my brain for many years, though in true writer fashion I haven’t properly written it all out. Though eventually, I intend to make this into a work of fiction with chapters and everything. For now though, I have managed to write out all of our major characters’ backstories.

Before delving right in you should know that this story has dark themes that take place within the story and content that can be triggering, so if you are sensitive to those please read with caution or skip this one altogether. Mental health takes first place over silly Batman characters.

⚠️ Trigger warning for:

Death

Torture

Murder

Jack Napier aka the Joker had a loving and supportive family growing up, living a life of privilege. Both his mother and father had successful careers, his father working in software engineering and his mother owning her own business selling home-made baked goods and doing custom catering orders for large events. Jack was an only child, but he had no shortage of his mother’s undivided attention. He would often help her in the kitchen with measuring ingredients and adding them into bowls, and in between baking times they would play pretend in their living room. Jack loved baking with his mom, developing a love for everything sweet from an early age. But what he loved even more was playing theater, where he would stand on stage (the couch) with hundreds watching (his mom). He would throw plays where he would act every part, and the audience would add in the sound effects. The clapping of horse hoofs in his old western play, the creaking of a basement door in his scary monster play, and the dramatic punches of a hero fighting the villain in his superhero play.

In school, theater was also his favorite. The singing, the dancing, the costumes, he wanted to do it all. He would often practice his lines on his classmates during other subjects, or try out his new jokes on the teacher, earning him the title of class clown. He had dreamed of growing up and becoming a famous comedian or actor. Though between the ages of 16 and 17 that dream had changed.

His father had died suddenly and tragically in a car accident, falling asleep at the wheel as he was on his way home from a long night at work. The car veered off the road, striking a light post and rolling down the sloped landscape several meters before stopping. The accident was just minutes away from home. Jack and his mother watched from the window as an ambulance and several police cars went by. His mother convinced herself that it was nothing to worry about, whatever was going on didn’t need her concern. When her husband didn’t return at the normal time, she told herself that he must have been held up by the accident, that was all. He would be home safe soon. She stayed up all night waiting for him, praying. There would be a knock on the door early the following morning. Jack had crawled out of bed at the noise, peeking his head into the front room. His mother answered the door, wiping the tired from her eyes. Two police officers stood on the other side. One of the officers spoke quietly, something Jack couldn’t make out. His mother screamed and collapsed to the ground before the officer could continue. Jack rushed to her, holding her, and that’s when he heard it. His dad had died. The officer did his best to explain what happened. His mother wailed hysterically while Jack sat quietly, hugging her.

From that moment forward things had changed in their home. His mother had closed her baking business and found a job as a server in order to make ends meet. At first there was a period of time where his mother was constantly angry. She would cry and yell and rant about how stupid his father was to fall asleep while driving. He should have gone to a hotel. How could he leave her and his son like this. It wasn’t fair. She had planned out her whole life with him, and now she was left alone to pick up the pieces. His mother’s short fuse was often directed at her son. If he was falling behind in his academics in favor of doing theater, she would scream at him about how she already had a heavy burden to bear, and how disappointed his father would have been if he were here.

Jack decided the following year of school that he would drop theater as a class. He devoted a majority of his time to studying and greatly improved his GPA. Outside school he would also start working a part-time job, and help with a majority of the house chores. The house would always be clean when his mother came home. Eventually the anger and resentment his mother had went down, though she did not go back to her old happy self like Jack hoped. Her spirit was gone, only a shell of her remaining. Baking was the thing that had brought her so much joy, and now she had ordered takeout for every meal. But Jack couldn’t blame her. She had been through so much that the only thing he could do was be the support that she was missing.

After graduating, Jack had excitedly announced to his mother that he decided to pursue engineering. Not quite the same career that his father had, but it was within a similar field. He took her hands while trying his best to contain himself. This news was only half of the surprise that he had been holding onto, and the other half was something he had been wanting to do for his mom for a long time.

With a wide grin on his face, he said that he also was planning to move out to Gotham, the most technologically advanced city and then begin his career as an intern at Wayne Tech. He already had a place picked out that he would be renting, a spacious apartment in a good area of West Gotham with an amazing view over the city. He asked her if she would move with him. The apartment had two rooms and one bath, and a good sized kitchen. It would be perfect for her to do any baking or cooking just like she did before. She didn’t need to keep working her server job anymore, because as soon as he was done with university and his intern program he would bring enough money for the both of them. She could retire early and best of all, he would be right there to take care of her.

He was holding her hands close to his chest, eyes bright as he laid out his plans for the next several years. He beamed about how he was going to be at the forefront of technology innovation, and be a part of a massive team of incredibly intelligent people. As he spoke her expression didn’t change. After he was done, he waited for her response. She looked away from her son, shaking her head.

She said in a soft voice that she had lived in the same home for decades. All of her happiest memories were attached to the house. Marrying the love of her life, raising him, starting her business. While it was thoughtful of him to think of her, she couldn’t just uproot her life on a dime. Jack’s smile slowly fell. He told her that it was alright if she didn’t want to decide right now, saying that she could think about it. She pulled her hands away, saying that she was deciding right now, and her answer was no. Jack insisted that she reconsider then, saying that when he makes it at Wayne Tech she could start her baking business again and make new happy memories. She said that she didn’t want to go back to baking. That dream had passed a long time ago, but that didn’t mean he needed to hold himself back from reaching his dream. If he wanted to go be an engineer then he could do that without her.

Jack looked at his feet. He breathed deeply, holding in the emotions that threatened to spill over. He said that he didn’t want to go anywhere without her. Gotham city was on the opposite side of the country, and if something were to happen to her he wouldn’t be able to help her. She looked back at him. She said that if anything happened to her, then he would be ok.

Over the course of the following month, Jack had packed up his life into boxes. His belongings would be traveling by a moving truck while he and a backpack would be traveling by train. He hugged his mom tightly the day of his departure like it would be the last time, and then set off for a new life.

It took several days before he finally crossed into Ohio, then soon after he was at the Gotham Bay docks. Since Gotham was a series of islands that floated in the mid-section of Ohio, he would then need to board a ship to make it the rest of the way. The weather during the trip had shifted drastically from the hot humidity of Florida to the cold dryness of the northern states. It would take him some getting used to. The wind whipped through him as the ship moved steadily forward through dense clouds of fog. He wondered to himself how the captain of the ship knew where he was going, but then he saw it. Small lights in the far distance. Gotham city was so bright that you could find it even in the fog.

The ship pulled into the East Gotham docks. From a distance Gotham looked small in comparison to the rocky waters that surrounded it. But as they drew closer, the buildings on the island grew larger. Jack felt so tiny but so captivated. He had never been outside his home town before except for trips to the beach, and now here he was, standing before this massive and beautiful city. Despite it being dark and cloudy, the island seemed to glow with lights coming from buildings and signs and billboards with screens.

The people around him began to shuffle off of the ship and Jack followed along with the flow of traffic. He knew where to go, but looking around him he also didn’t at the same time. His sense of direction and confidence had been ripped out from under him the moment he stepped onto the train back home. Though everyone ahead of him seemed to know where they were going, as large groups of people filtered into a line to go down a flight of stairs that disappeared under the cobblestone walkway.

Making his way down, he was met with a place that was just as large as the boat docks he got off from, but more grandiose. It reminded him of an underground town square, as this place was bustling with people that arrived on other vessels. The walls were made of brick and held candle holders which lit the space, as well as chandeliers overhead. In the middle of the large open area were deep trenches that stretched across the room and into tunnels through the back wall. Jack looked at them puzzled, though it wasn’t a moment later before a train with a sleeker style came through the tunnel and slowed to a stop with steam hissing off its body. The world’s first ever subway. Jack tried to hold back his excitement but couldn’t help but jump giddily, a wide grin on his face. Some people around him gave him odd looks, but he didn’t care. This was the coolest thing he’s ever seen.

Looking at a nearby map board, Jack figured out which train he needed to take and which stop he needed to exit off of to get to the far side of the island. From there he would need to board another vessel to take him to West Gotham. Though after arriving at his destination, he was looking around confusedly. There was meant to be another travel ship at this dock but there was only a shipyard where goods and trade are delivered and sent out.

He went to ask someone who was walking out from the subway, but they only sneered at him in response and kept walking. Perhaps he was at the wrong dock. He was taking another look at his map when a strange sound caught his attention. His eyes shifted up towards it, and peeking out from the clouds in the sky slowly moving through the air was what he could only comprehend as a skyship. Jack would later learn that it was called a blimp. Forget the subway, this was the coolest thing he’s ever seen.

In complete awe and wonderment he watched the blimp descend down onto a landing platform a few blocks away. The flying ship was just as big as the city buildings surrounding it, and when he went to board it there were close to a hundred people on board. The inside of the blimp didn’t have much for seating, just a few benches for the elderly and disabled. Everyone else was standing, which had Jack worried. He made a beeline to the wall which had large windows going all the way around the room. When the blimp was set to rise in the air, Jack pressed his back against the wall and prepared to be shaken. Though nothing happened. He opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder at the window. They were slowly rising upwards getting lighter like a balloon being blown up. The ground got further and further away, until eventually it disappeared underneath low hanging clouds. He could feel the pressure in his head shifting as it entered the higher atmosphere, a feeling he was not used to. The blimp slowed to a stop for a few moments before moving forward, the sound of soft whirring kicking on as the propeller blades on the ship sprung to life.

The ship moves in a counterclockwise direction going from island to island he came to find out later. From East Gotham they went to South Gotham, then West Gotham. Much like a train making stops, he stayed onboard until he reached West. The entire trip he was looking out the window, taking in as much as the weather would allow. The sight of the city from this height was beautiful.

Upon landing, he tracked down the nearest subway station and caught one that would take him closest to his apartment. It was a bit of a walk after departing the train, but Jack didn’t mind. He got to look around on ground level what would be his new home, getting to know the street names and nearby shops. While walking, he noticed there were a lot of cars and traffic on the road. It was a lot of traffic in his experience at least. He wondered why everyone in Gotham couldn’t walk to their destinations, it seemed much easier and quicker, especially with the subways and blimp.

Finally at last he arrived at the apartment complex. This was where he would be staying for the foreseeable future, at least until he gets hired full time at Wayne Tech and starts saving his money for a house. A thought had crossed his mind as he stepped inside the landlord’s office to retrieve his key. Once he got a house he could ask his mom again to move in with him. Perhaps the idea of living in an apartment turned her off to it, but a nice house and him being financially successful could change her mind. He pushed that thought away for now though, greeting the landlord behind the desk. His moving truck should be coming in by the end of the day, so he had some time to kill.

He spent the rest of the day sightseeing, visiting the park, browsing the shops, grabbing food and sweets. Wherever his eyes were drawn he followed. When it started to get late he headed back to the apartment. His mind was buzzing with excitement still from it all, though he felt his feet drag behind him exhausted from travel. Surely he would be able to wind down enough to sleep while unpacking his bedding. He went to the landlord’s office, though the lights were turned off. A sign was posted in the window: hours 8am - 8pm closed on Sundays. Jack scratched his head. This shouldn’t be a problem, he could simply go check the back parking lot himself for the moving truck.

Going around the building, Jack had checked all around the place with no truck in sight. Perhaps his things were moved into his room already. He didn’t ask them to do that, but it’s possible. He went up to his apartment room, unlocking the door with his key. He hasn’t been inside the room yet, and while excited to see it in person he was first looking for a pile of boxes. Swinging the door open, he was met with nothing. The apartment was empty. He laughed nervously. Ok, don’t panic. Just call the moving company and see what’s going on before jumping to conclusions.

He took a breath and went around the rooms, finding the home landline phone. It had taken a while before he could get a hold of someone. He anxiously tapped his foot while waiting to hear where the truck was. The front desk clerk had finally returned and said that the truck with his things was running behind, and instead of arriving by today it was going to arrive a few days later. His heart sank. All he had was what he brought with him on the train. That night he slept on the floor, using his bag as a pillow.

Before he knew it the sun was rising and he barely slept. His back was stiff as he pushed himself up, moving over to the window. While watching the sunrise, he went over in his mind what he needed to do that day. His first semester at college will be starting next week and he needs to get books and supplies. He also needs to attend orientation tomorrow. But first things first, he was hungry. A few donuts and a shower later and he was off to the nearest book store.

Gathering up the books that were required by the school and a few other supplies like notebooks and pencils, he brought everything up to the register. He reached into his bag to retrieve his wallet. He couldn’t find it though with the amount of things he had packed into it, so he apologized to the store clerk and pulled some of the stuff out of the bag. His wallet must have fallen to the bottom. He pulled everything out, searched every pocket, patted down his pants. He couldn’t find it anywhere. His wallet was missing.

He left the store empty handed. He shook his head at himself. How could he be so careless as to misplace his wallet? It had to be at the apartment, maybe it fell out of his bag. A quick jog back home and a look around the place turned up nothing. There was only one conclusion left. He had been robbed. Jack cursed to himself. The cash that was in the wallet was as good as gone, but most of his money was still on his card. He went downstairs and phoned the bank, placing a hold on his card and requesting a new one. Though it would take some time before it would arrive.

He hung up the phone, staring at the wall of the apartment lobby. What was he going to do now? He needed money for those books and more importantly food for the week. The snacks he had gotten yesterday would be gone by tomorrow. It was then that something caught his attention. A bulletin board next to the phone. Several flyers were posted, some about service advertising, some about missing persons. But one stood out to him from the rest: a flyer promoting a comedy show at a local bar.

The show was free and just the distraction he needed. After his college orientation, he went to the bar that night. While he wasn’t able to buy himself a drink, he enjoyed himself watching different comedians go up on stage and do their acts. One of the comedians had done a bit where he was interacting with people in the audience, guessing what kind of drink they were having. He then pointed to Jack, asking him if he was having a drink tonight. Jack shook his head, which the comedian booed him for. The guy on stage said that he would have asked if he was the designated driver tonight, but he’s seated alone. So instead he asked why he came to see the show by himself. Jack answered honestly, saying that he’d just got into town. The comedian nodded, welcoming him to Gotham and asked the audience to do the same.

He jokingly asked Jack how the rats had been, which made the bar erupt into laughter. He then asked Jack what made him move to Gotham. Jack said that he was going to be starting college soon. The comedian chuckled and said if that was why he wasn’t drinking tonight, he was a broke college student already.

That jab had struck a nerve in Jack. He was painfully reminded of why he was here seeing this show in the first place. When he had stopped smiling, the comedian said to him to not take himself so seriously. He continued, saying his situation was very common, in fact many people from around the world come into Gotham to attend school. Only difference is they have mommy and daddy paying for everything, and he’s a sorry sap in a bar who can’t afford a drink. The audience laughed. Jack felt himself sink in his chair. He wanted to get up and leave right then and there. Coming to this show was a mistake and he should have just stayed home in his empty and sad apartment.

But then the comedian asked him another question. He asked him what he was going to be studying in college. Jack looked up at him, and without much thought or hesitation he answered ‘How to be a real comedian, unlike you.’

The audience ‘ooooh-ed.’ The comedian looked taken aback, though righted himself quickly. He asked Jack if that was why he was really here, to steal his material. Jack said back that he didn’t need to because his jokes were shit. The comedian brushed him off, saying that the audience clearly disagrees with him. But in any case, he’s not going to entertain hagglers. He then moved on, pointing to another person in the audience to make a guess on what kind of drink they were having. The person he picked had spoken up before he could continue, saying that she wanted to see the college kid on stage. The people around her said they did too. Soon the whole audience was looking at Jack and asking him to show up the other comedian.

What was once a fun comedy night had quickly turned into a battle of comedians, which was arguably more entertaining. Jack got up on stage, his opponent forcing the microphone into his chest before finding a table. The audience stared at him, waiting expectantly. Jack cleared his throat. His mind was blank. He hadn’t been on a stage since he was a kid. He searched his brain for something to say, some introduction joke to get the crowd laughing. But all he could think about was how alone he was. He had moved out to this city to start a life of his own and nothing had gone according to plan. He had no bed, no money, and no mommy or daddy to help him.

He looked at the microphone in his hand. It was then that a realization struck him. He held the microphone up, introducing himself and where he was from. He told the audience that Florida was nothing in comparison to Gotham city, truly. When he was living on his own back home, it took him at least a week before he got robbed. But here it took him less than a day before his wallet was stolen.

He retold the unfortunate series of events, making himself to be this young and dumb college kid that is more book smart than street smart. The audience had ate it up, laughing at every turn of the story and waiting to see what happened next. The final part to his story was how he wound up in the bar, not a penny to his name, being picked on by an asshole on stage. Even the asshole in question was smiling at his table. After his tale was concluded he thanked everyone for coming out tonight, then went back to his seat.

The crowd clapped and cheered, some even shouting that they wanted more. A bar staff member jumped up on stage to calm the energy level down and introduce the next comedian. Jack sighed with relief. Although the audience had loved his performance, he didn’t mean to take over the other guy’s show. Even if it was shit. He was snapped out of his thoughts when a glass was placed down at his table by one of the waitstaff. Jack excused himself, saying that he didn’t order anything and that they had the wrong table. The waiter said that someone else had bought him the drink, then went on their way. He looked back at the glass. A smile spread across his face. He sipped on the drink while watching the rest of the show.

Once the show had concluded, the bar staff had gone on the stage one last time to remind the audience to tip the comedians and waiters if they liked what they saw and wanted more. People got up from their seats and began shuffling towards the door. Jack had stayed behind to finish off his drink, getting up from the table after nearly everyone had left.

A bar staff person had come up to him before he went out the door, handing him an envelope. Jack looked at them confusedly, asking what it was. They answered, saying it was the tips he made from the show. Jack looked even more confused, saying he wasn’t a part of the show. The tips should go to the actual performers. He tried to hand the envelope back, but they held their hand up and said that the people requested the money go to him specifically. They continued to say that the bar has comedy shows every weekend, so he was welcome to come by again but as a performer.

Later on when he was back in his apartment, Jack had opened the envelope. There was over a hundred dollars in cash contained inside. He stared at the money in disbelief. He didn’t feel he deserved it, though at the same time performing on that stage was so much fun. Perhaps it wasn’t a mistake after all to attend the show.

The next morning he went out and purchased the supplies he needed, having just enough left over cash to get himself some groceries. When he got back home, the landlord let him know that his moving truck arrived. For the rest of the day he unpacked, setting up everything just as he envisioned it. The last thing he did was his desk where he would be studying and doing homework. In a couple more days he would be a college student at West Gotham University. He just couldn’t wait to get started.

When the day finally arrived, it was everything he dreamed of and more. The university was bustling with students from all over the world. Even some in his class came from as far as New York to attend this school. Jack had felt right at home, surrounded by people who were just as passionate about technology as he was. A bit after starting school he received his replacement card in the mail and he had access to his money again. His funds that he had saved wouldn’t last forever though, and he would need to find a part-time job.

Though at night while he was studying at his desk, or while he was cooking himself dinner, his mind would wander back to the comedy show at the bar. He would daydream often while staring out at the city from his apartment window, thinking about the jokes and stories he could tell on the stage.

He played with the idea in his head of going back. The other comedians might not like him being there on the account that he stole the show from one of them. He couldn’t get the thought out of his head, until eventually one weekend where he just went for it. He went back to the bar and sighed himself up as one of the acts that night.

He was correct in assuming that the others wouldn’t be as welcoming towards him. Some of them made snide comments to him while he was waiting backstage to be called. The same guy that he called out was there as well. When Jack saw him he felt a tinge of guilt. But the man smiled at him, wishing him good luck tonight and that there were no hard feelings. Jack felt instant relief from hearing that, and the anxiety that was building had subsided some.

When it was Jack’s turn on stage, he gave it his all. He used the material that he thought up over the last couple of weeks, and he absolutely knocked it out of the park. He was well received by the audience, and the bar staff called him a natural for being new to the comedy scene. Then at the end of the show he was tipped almost double the amount he was given last time. Jack would continue to perform every weekend, using the show like his part time job. Not only did performing pay his bills, but he also had so much fun doing it. It never felt like a job to him, more like a second dream that came after his first one of being an engineer.

He continued this routine throughout his time in college, taking small breaks here and there when he was able to financially, that way he could allow his creativity to recharge. It was during his final semester that he met someone after one of his shows.

He introduced himself as someone who worked for the city of North Gotham, specifically he was the manager of Amusement Mile. He said that he loved Jack’s performance, saying that he obviously stood out from everyone else there. He could tell he put a lot of thought into how everything is written and structured, and that takes drive which he admired. Saying that he would cut right to the chase, he offered Jack a job opportunity working for him at Amusement Mile doing the same thing he was doing here but being paid much more than tips. His hours were flexible, and he would have full creative freedom to do what he wanted with his act. He didn’t need to make a decision right away, but if he was interested in going bigger to give him a call.

The man handed him a business card, which Jack accepted. He thanked him for enjoying the show, and the man left. He looked down at the card, absolutely stunned. He had known that the audience liked his performance, but he didn’t know he was good enough to be approached by a talent recruiter for a theme park.

While he loved the thought of performing on a proper stage and not in a bar, he wouldn’t have the time to do that after he started his career at Wayne Tech. Before he knew it his graduation day was here, and he was walking across a stage adorned with the tasseled cap and robe to receive his diploma. The feeling was bittersweet. He was the top of his class, his teachers saying he had a bright future ahead of him. Though looking out over all the parents sitting on the sidelines watching their now grown up children complete their final year of school had made him miss his mom that much more. She had already been on his mind that whole day, but now even moreso. His eyes stung with emotion. He inhaled sharply, pushing those thoughts down. He knew she would be proud of him regardless of if she were here to see him or not.

The following day he made preparations to apply to Wayne Tech. He called the front desk and asked if they had an opening for an intern or engineer apprenticeship. The secretary said he could come in for an interview a few days later. When the time came, he traveled over to North Gotham and took the subway to Wayne Tower. While up in the air he could clearly see what building he would be heading to, as it was the largest one on the island and possibly the whole city. Being the biggest landmark, the subway brought him right outside the building. Looking up at the building from this close really puts things into perspective. It was mind bogglingly massive.

The front had a courtyard area with trees, grass, benches, and a water fountain in the center. There were some people sitting outside either working or reading. One person sitting on a bench had their face in a newspaper, and as he passed them by his eyes skimmed over the headline. It was an article about Martha and Thomas Wayne and the recent charity they attended. How Jack wished he could meet the man that started it all, what a dream that would be.

Heading into the main lobby of the building, everything inside was just as ginormous as the outside. Right away everything felt so futuristic. The entryway had the Wayne Tech logo imprinted into the tile floor, and the walls were covered with television screens that displayed various looping photos of the company and its creation. Some photos were from when Wayne Tower was first being built, to now with the CEOs setting up charity events and donating great sums of money.

In the middle of the lobby there was a circle shaped help desk with a team of people working behind it. All of them were busy either answering phone calls or typing out letters on a writer. When he went up to the desk, one of the secretaries welcomed him to Wayne Tech before asking what she could help him with. Jack felt a sudden spike in his anxiety. He needed to make a good first impression with everyone he met here, because all of the people who work at this company know each other. Trying his best to smile normally and not be awkward he said he was here for an interview.

The secretary called one of the managers to let them know he was there, and after a couple minutes someone had come down the stairs and greeted him. She had him follow her to an upstairs office where she took a seat at the desk and he sat down across from her. This was it. This was his moment to secure a spot at the best company to work for. This needed to be his best performance yet. He needed to make his mom proud. His dad proud. The anxiety had moved up into his throat by this point. He couldn’t help but wring his hands together in his lap. He could feel his heart beating against his chest. The interview started with the manager asking him how he was. Jack laughed nervously, almost too loudly. He cleared his throat, saying he was good and excited to be here.

Minutes passed by like seconds, and just like that the interview was over. The manager had asked him all the usual questions that interviews ask. What made you interested in working for this company, what are your qualifications, what department are you interested in, what are some things about yourself, can you work in a team with other people. Jack had practiced answering these questions in his head several times leading up to this moment. At the end he felt very good about how it went. He knew he absolutely nailed it out of the park. His answers were spot on, he had the starting qualifications for an internship, and the manager seemed to like him. All he had to do now was wait for them to call him and say that he was hired.

So he waited. And waited. And waited some more. Over the weekend where he normally would go to the bar to perform, he opted to stay home on the chance that Wayne Tech would call him. Two weeks had passed by and he hadn’t heard anything. The doubt was eating away at him. What if he thought he did good but actually bombed it. He couldn’t take the uncertainty anymore. He called Wayne Tech’s help desk and asked for the status of his application. The secretary on the other end went to look for it. When she returned, she told him that there wasn’t a position open at this time for an engineer intern but they would keep him in mind for when the position opens up.

Jack’s heart sank to the bottom of his chest. He was so racked with emotion he didn’t think to ask her when the position would be open, he simply thanked her and hung up. He put the phone back on the receiver. He walked up the stairs to his apartment. He closed the door behind him. He looked over at the window in his living room. The view he had over the city. He sat down on his couch. He looked at the windows in all the other buildings for as far as he could see and how they lit up the island like stars in the sky. He buried his head in his hands and sobbed.

What was he to do now? He came to this city wanting to be at Wayne Tech. He went to school, worked hard, spent late nights studying, and earned his degree. But he was expected to wait around until they had room for him. The whole reason for him leaving home was to be an engineer at this company. He wasn’t even sure at this point if they would hire him even when the position did open. He was at an utter loss. He wanted so badly to call his mom. He missed her so much. Having her there made him feel safe. Like he could fall and she’d be there to catch him. They went through some hard times together, but she had still been there for him even if it wasn’t emotionally. But a part of him didn’t want to disappoint her. Telling her that he failed would make him feel even worse.

Eventually he had laid down in bed. His eyes had glanced over to his nightstand. The business card the man from the bar had given to him was resting on top. A thought had entered his mind, though he pushed it away immediately, it being too absurd to even consider. As he tried to sleep off the heavy weight that was resting on top of him, he kept returning to the thought. It was pestering him almost. Being an entertainer at Amusement Mile sounded fun and the man made it seem like he would be doing the same thing but with more perks. But he had no clue what he’d actually be signing up for. A theme park was far bigger than a mere bar. His act would need to be different to capture the attention of a much larger audience, all of different ages and backgrounds.

Despite being so exhausted that night, he tossed and turned. He fought with himself on what to do next and whether or not that was the right thing. He didn't want his money to have been wasted on a degree he was never going to use, but he also needed money that this performing job could potentially give him. He didn't want to disappoint his mom by becoming a clown act, but also he didn't know how long it would be before Wayne Tech decided to hire him. He was torn. While restlessly looking up at the ceiling, he had thought back to a time when he was this indecisive. His dad had told him that if he ever found himself torn, the best answer was either neither choice or both choices. Early the next morning he came to a final decision. He would do both.

He picked up the business card and gave the number on it a call. The new plan would be to see if he liked Amusement Mile, and if all goes well he would work the job until Wayne Tech hired him. He also planned to call them once every month to check in on his application and if the position opened. It had been awhile since Jack had met the man who gave him the card, but after introducing himself over the phone the man remembered him instantly. He said Jack could call him Jefferson or Jeff for short, and invited him to come over to Amusement Mile for a tour and chat whenever he was ready.

Jack went to go meet him that same day. Much like how Florida is known for being the home of Disney World, Gotham is also known for being the home of Amusement Mile, a massive carnival styled theme park on North Gotham. While flying over, Jack couldn't help but look out the window at Wayne Tower. He tried not to dwell on his thoughts, instead focusing on what questions he wanted to ask Jeff. Like before, after the blimp landed Jack rode the subway to the Northernmost side of the island. Not only is Amusement Mile the name of the park, but it’s also the name of the district with the actual park being one section of it on the edge of the beach.

Jeff had met him at the front entrance of the park, welcoming him in. It was still morning so Jack wasn’t expecting the park to be busy, but after Jeff started to show him around there was actually a sizable amount of people. There were rides and games of course, all typical of a regular carnival. But there were also live shows, band concerts, vendors, and an entire zoo. It was like a fair that was here all year long. The place was much bigger than Jack was anticipating, making this job even more intimidating. But as he and Jeff were walking he explained that Jack would be working in the big top tent where they host live shows.

They headed inside the tent, which was more like an auditorium. The place was arranged in a big circle with the stage in the center and the seats were raised bleachers that went all the way around. Instead of facing the audience in front of him, Jack would need to constantly be turning around as he was performing. Jack could feel his palms starting to sweat. He laughed nervously, the sound jumping out of his chest like a squeaking mouse. Jeff told him not to worry, adjusting to the style of seating is actually a lot easier than he’s thinking. He also needn’t worry about straining his voice, he said while walking over to the far back of the tent. He picked up what looked to be a microphone from behind a table, but it was much smaller with a headband attached to it.

At the end of the tour, Jack got to meet some of the other performers that had come in to do their show that morning, as well as the sound team. Jeff said that he was welcome to stick around and get to know everyone around the park, and after the show he could use the empty tent to practice. Jack smiled and thanked him. His heart was beating so fast that he couldn’t focus on much else. He sat down on the bleachers for a few minutes to catch his breath, feeling entirely overwhelmed by it all. What was wrong with him? He used to be so comfortable on a stage and now just the thought of getting up on this one is terrifying to him.

While trying to rationalize to himself, people began to filter into the tent. A few early birds turned into crowds of people, and soon every seat was taken. He wanted to leave and get away from the noise, though he decided against that. It would be rude of him to miss the show after meeting the performers, and he wanted to start off on the right foot this time.

The show involved a group of clowns doing comedy improv skits. They would call on audience members to randomly change something about the scene, either it be a prop, setting, or character that the performer was acting out. The show devolved into a hilarious chaotic mess, with the group just rolling with whatever the chosen audience members shouted out. Jack had forgotten all about feeling anxious, being absolutely captivated and laughing along with the people around him. Seeing the clowns freely jump from one idea to the next had given him so much inspiration for his own show. He could do anything, it didn't need to standup. He could start new and be anything he wanted, the only limits being that it needed to be age appropriate for kids. He would go home and get right to work.

Jack's first show at Amusement Mile would be at night when the amount of guests would be at their highest. He was nervous still, but breathed through it, reassuring himself that he would be alright. He could do this. He was getting ready in one of the dressing rooms next to the big top tent. He looked at himself in the mirror. You're alright, you can do this, he said to himself. There was a knock on the door, startling him out of his pep talk. Jeff was on the other side. He said he just wanted to check in with him and let him know that he had 5 minutes before showtime. He smiled and said that Jack looked fantastic. Jack thanked him, saying that he hoped the audience liked him too. Jeff reassured him that they absolutely will. He was going to knock their socks off. And he did.

When Jack stepped onto the stage, he was dressed from head to toe in a full colorful clown outfit. He had painted his face a traditional white with a red nose, lips, and tear drops under his eyes. He also tried to dye his hair blue but it ended up coming out as green, which he ended up liking way better. He took a dramatic bow in front of the audience, introducing himself as Jack the Joker.

The first half of his act started as standup, something he was familiar and comfortable with. He played the character of Joker, a goofy but mischievous clown who had been destined to be a prince but ran away from his life of luxury to follow his dream of spreading laughter and joy. As his persona he told stories to the audience with jokes sprinkled in. The ending would always tie back into the start of the story somehow, making a funny and satisfying conclusion. Then the second half of his act involved magic tricks. Jack had begun to teach himself how to do them, but it was taking him a while to perfect them. So instead the joke was that he was terrible at magic and his tricks would backfire on him. For this he would use firecrackers and sparklers, his simple card trick 'exploding' and making a huge mess across the stage.

At the end of the show he took a bow, making sure to rise up, turn around and bow again so he faced everyone. The crowd was the loudest one that he's ever gotten. Everyone, especially the kids were clapping and screaming and shouting for him to do one more trick. Hearing that, he decided that he could do one more. He said to the audience that for his last trick he would make himself disappear, and he was triple sure that this time it would actually work. He had saved some extra pyrotechnics in his jacket just in case the sparklers didn't light. He waved his arms around, shouting the magic pun-filled phrase before letting loose a smoke bomb. Just like that he had vanished. The kids went nuts.

Needless to say, the show went off without a hitch. Jack the Joker's show continued to be the most popular event to see at Amusement Mile. People of all ages came to watch, and each one was a different experience than the last. Jack would spend all of his free time coming up with new ideas and writing new material. The years had sped by like minutes. He had become so successful that he never thought about going back to Wayne Tech and asking to be an intern. Not when he had his face on a billboard advertising the park.

In that time he had improved greatly with his magic tricks and picked up more and more to use for his shows, only to intentionally have them fail spectacularly, though making it seem like it was accidental. Along the way Jeff had been a guiding hand to him. The pair had gotten to be very close, and often they would sit in the dressing room or big tent and work on their separate things. Occasionally Jack would run an idea by him, and Jeff would ask him his opinion on how to improve the park or tackle a problem. Then after another successful show they both would celebrate by going out to eat.

Jack was financially comfortable enough to where he could get himself a house, and then ask his mom if she would move in with him. That was always the plan, though he hasn't called her once since moving to Gotham. He had been too much of a coward to, backing out at the last minute out of fear of what she would say. He's gone over it in his head probably hundreds of times. How he would tell her everything leading up to him being successful as a performer. Perhaps she would be genuinely happy for him. Perhaps not. The uncertainty of how she'd react left him paralyzed to follow through with it. In his mind, if he kept putting off buying a house, then he never had to make that phone call.

He was thinking about it even now as he was wrapping up for the evening after another show. He just needed to do it. Like ripping off a bandaid. Jeff had poked his head in the dressing room, praising him for an amazing show and asking if he wanted to grab dinner. After the park's gates were closed the two of them walked out together, as they usually did. They both laughed about how funny the kids in the audience were that night, with their mouths held agape when Jack did his magic tricks.

Jeff told him how lucky he was to have stumbled across him that night at the bar. He had been out with some friends who lived in West Gotham and they wanted to grab some drinks. By pure luck and chance he met one of the funniest and most talented guys that he's had the pleasure of calling a friend. Jack smiled at him, saying he also felt lucky. When the plan he made for his life wasn't panning out, he had taken a leap of faith not knowing where he would land. Jack had owed it to him for believing he would make it, and encouraged him to keep going.

After they had dinner the pair went their separate ways. That would be the last time Jack would see Jeff. The following day Jack had gone to the park to do some writing for his next show. When he walked up to the front gates, the staff person behind the ticket booth had called him over. She asked him if he had heard yet. His confused response let her know that he hadn’t yet. She lowered her voice to a very soft tone, telling him that Jefferson had passed away last night.

After Jeff had gotten home last night he suffered a major heart attack. His neighbors had gone to check on him that morning because his normally quiet and sweet dog wouldn’t stop barking. When the paramedics arrived he was already gone and there was nothing they could do. The staff woman apologized to him, saying that she knew they both were close. She added that the park would be open today, but tomorrow it would be closed until a new manager is appointed by the owner of the park. Jack thanked her for telling him. He thought he should say more, but his voice had hung up in his throat. He needed to leave. He needed to leave right now, but his feet felt like cinder blocks firmly planted on the ground. The woman must have seen the hurt on his face because she told him that Jefferson had been in a long battle with his health, though he hid it from everyone. He never wanted others to worry about him. He was the kind of person that always wanted to lift you up, and he came into work everyday to do just that.

He thanked her again and turned to leave, forcing his feet to carry him back home. Without Jeff at the park Jack had no reason to be there outside his normal showtime. He tried to hold in his emotions until he got back to his apartment but was quickly failing. His heart ached. The suddenness of it all had made his mind go blank. He didn’t know if he should continue on like he had before, or cancel his next week’s show. The only thing on his mind was how could this have happened. If he had known, if he had seen the signs, maybe he could have been there to help him. He could have gotten the paramedics faster and they would have had more time to save his life. It was only after he stepped through his door that the realization finally hit him. He had just lost his best friend. He sobbed long and hard.

Jack had taken a few days to just do nothing. He decided during that time he would do the show coming up if the park was open. Jeff would have wanted him to keep going. But when he sat down to write he had trouble focusing. His head still felt like mush. Nothing he wrote down sounded good. He looked back through his old jokes and ideas for inspiration, but that spark that he once had wasn’t there. He knew he needed more time to clear his head, though he forced himself to continue anyway. He wasn’t happy with the end result, but it was the best that he could come up with.

The day before his show he went over to the park to see if it was open, which to Jack’s slight disappointment it was. He went over to the staff person at the ticket booth, which was a different person than last time he was here. He asked them if there was a new manager for the park. Not yet, the guy said, but in the meantime the owner was here keeping the place running.

Jack felt slightly relieved by that. Of course he would eventually have a new boss, but replacing Jeff this early felt too soon. It was already hard enough going into a performance and putting on a brave face. While he was there he might as well rehearse his show. Going inside, he went to the big top tent. There wouldn't be another show for a couple hours so he would have the place to himself. He began to walk through his lines like usual, improving some jokes to see if it sounded better. But as he continued he just wasn't into it. What he wrote wasn't landing in the same way it did before, and he wasn't sure why. Everything about it just felt wrong.

He tossed the book to the side, too frustrated to look at it anymore. He needed to come up with an entirely new act before his show tomorrow night, and he was at a loss of what to do. If Jeff were here he would have bounced ideas off of him. But he wasn't here. He needed to do it on his own.

A small voice had startled Jack out of his thoughts. He turned his head and a young looking girl was standing in the entrance way of the tent. She asked him if he was using the space. He shook his head no, hopping off the stage. She thanked him and got up. As he turned to leave, the girl asked him if he was done for the day. Jack said that he was just giving her space to do her thing. She nodded, looking down timidly. He had gotten to the entrance before the girl spoke again, asking if he didn't mind being her audience while she practiced, as she had found it hard to talk with no one there. Jack said he didn't mind at all, and walked back over to a seat.

As the girl did her act, Jack had given her some tips and suggestions on how to improve upon it. The main thing was her confidence. Jack said that he himself gets nervous before every show, but putting on a character helps him find that larger voice. Her character could just be her, but bigger and bolder. By the end of the rehearsal she could project her voice a lot louder and clearer, and her stiff movements were more free and natural. She felt a lot better with her performance, and gave him many thank yous.

Jack wished her good luck and went home for the day to write. For his show he ended up using more magic tricks than standup, that way the audience wouldn't pay as much attention to his jokes. The people loved him all the same, but he couldn't help but feel guilty. The audience deserved to have nothing but the best from him and he didn't deliver that. He sat in his dressing room taking off his makeup. He looked at himself in the mirror, half of his clown face wiped away.

There was a light knock on his door. A voice on the other side asked if Jack was there. He cleared his throat, acknowledging that he was. The voice apologized for interrupting him, but they came to tell him that the owner of the park wanted to speak to him. Jack froze in place. The owner wanted to talk to him? Instantly his mind began to race. His show didn't go well like it normally does and the owner wanted to talk to him. He quite possibly could be fired over this.

As he finished changing into his normal clothes, the dread was setting in. If he went home now he wouldn't be reprimanded for how horribly his act had gone. He could just skip past it like nothing had happened. But if he did that he would be in even worse trouble. As he grappled with himself on what to do, the decision was made for him. He heard someone call his stage name. He looked over and it was a taller man dressed in formal attire.

Jack smiled politely, walking over to him. The man introduced himself as the owner of the park and said that he'd been wanting to meet him. The owner asked to walk with him. Jack felt his heart beating out of his chest. He could tell just looking at the owner's expression that he was not happy. He swallowed, following the owner next to him as they walked around the park.

The owner started off by thanking Jack for putting on such an amazing show for the past several years. The amount of guests visiting the park had exploded in numbers, all to see his show. Jack nodded quietly, thanking him. The owner continued, saying that running an entire theme park was never easy. He had worked with Jefferson for a very long time to keep everything in the park safe and fun for all ages. But it was people like Jack that really kept the place open. Guests crave to see new and exciting things, and Jack has consistently done that.

They had stopped in front of one of the rides, brightly glowing with florescent lights as it spun around. The owner said that Jack could very well keep doing his thing, being a colorful character on stage. But he wanted to offer him an opportunity to help him that much more in overseeing the park as its new manager.

Jack looked at him dumbfounded. The owner laughed, saying that he knows it's sudden but to just hear him out on it before making a decision. Not only did Jefferson speak very highly to him of Jack and his problem solving skills, but he also had been looking for someone who could work well with others and keep spirits up just like Jeff did. The other day while he was there he had spoken to someone who said that Jack helped them improve their confidence. They said he listened to them, was kind and patient, and gave them helpful advice.

If he accepted the offer, the owner said he would train him himself on how to do everything involved with running the park. Customer service, safety inspections, budgeting, scheduling, everything. He also didn't have to give up being a performer either, even with all this new responsibility. The owner would work with him so he had time to write and plan his shows. He could have the best of both worlds. But if it was too much to take on the owner said he understood. It was a lot to ask of him. Finding the right person was like finding hay in a needle stack. If you choose wrong then it could result in major consequences.

Jack couldn't believe it. Just a few short years ago he was starting out as a performer dressed as a clown and now he was offered the position of park manager. The thought of being essentially the boss of everyone was more than a little intimidating. Helping out one performer with their show was one thing, it was an entirely other thing to watch over a hundred employees. This was simply just impossible. Though somehow Jeff found a way to make it work.

The following day he had made the decision to accept the job. For the next 5 or so years he would work hard to fill Jeff's shoes. He would go home everyday constantly exhausted from the work, but to him it was all worth it. He loved helping others and getting to use his creativity and knowledge in engineering to bring to life new ideas for the park.

Guests visiting the park were steadily going up with every new ride and show added. Instead of Jack performing once every week, he would perform once biweekly. One week Jack would have the responsibility of running the park, and the following week the owner would take over for him, only asking Jack to help him with smaller managerial tasks so he had enough time to write for the show.

Though during this time, crime rates in Gotham were also on the rise. A territorial war had begun with several different mafia organizations and the GCPD were struggling to keep up. Not only did this war cause mass amounts of property damage, in some areas even leveling multi-story buildings, but also the casualty count was skyrocketing including both mafia members and innocents caught in the crossfire. The people of Gotham were too scared to leave their homes for fear of being swept up in the chaos happening outside.

As a result of this, Amusement Mile was suffering financially. Tickets being sold were at an all time low to no fault of the park. Jack had figured once everything calmed down and the mafia was dealt with, things would go back to normal. Guests would return to the park and be able to enjoy the new attractions again. But the war had continued and persisted for months on end. Jack had brought the problem to the owner, suggesting that they temporarily close down the park to save on costs. However, the owner was of the opinion that the media were using the mafia for their news stories and making crime activity out to be a bigger issue than it was. Guests were still coming into the park, and it would be unfair to them to close their doors.

Money began to get tighter, and soon Jack was needing to pull money from anywhere he could just to keep the park afloat. Show budgets were cut, ticket and food prices increased, and eventually employees were laid off. It physically hurt when he needed to tell his own people that he couldn’t afford to pay them for their work any longer. The owner still wasn’t budging, insisting that the rates of crime would be handled soon and that they would be ok. Frustrated now more than ever, Jack had dipped into his own savings to stall having to let go more people.

He was lost on what to do. Usually he was able to come up with a solution to any problem, but not this time. They were going to go under and be forced to close and Jack wasn’t able to fix it. At least until he was approached one late night by a man who was waiting outside the park gates for him.

Jack had just finished a show, the tent being less than half full. The owner had pulled him aside afterward, telling him that he had to leave early and that he needed him to close up the park that night. Jack agreed, staying behind and waiting for all the guests to make their way out before locking the gate. As he turned around to head home as well, he came face to face with a man.

Startled out of his skin, he went to take a step back but the man just got closer and grabbed his shirt. He felt something shoved into his side painfully. The man spoke in a low, gruff voice, telling him to be quiet and not to move. Jack threw his hands up to the man’s chest, using all his weight to shove him off. Suddenly he became aware that he was surrounded by a group of men. One of them yanked him back by the hair, another punched him in the gut, causing him to collapse onto the gravel. He rolled onto his side, gasping for air and fighting the urge to throw up. He felt one of the men behind him grab the back collar of his shirt, picking him back onto his feet. The man he had shoved leaned into his face. He told him not to be stupid unless he wanted a bullet in him next, spitting the words as he talked.

Jack couldn’t move even if he wanted to, as his body uncontrollably coughed and convulsed. The man explained that he and his ‘friends’ were going to take his park and claim it as theirs. He was giving him two options: the first is that they break every bone in his body starting with his fingers, and when they’re done hang him out for the crows. The second option was that he tell them where his boss was and they’d think about letting him go. Jack’s heart was beating so fast that the sound was pounding in his ears. He held his hands up and said wait, wait, wait, the words spilling out of his mouth. Shakily he told them he didn’t know where his boss was, as he had left hours earlier. The man tsked. That wasn’t the response he wanted. One of the men took Jack’s hand, picking one of his fingers to bend backwards. Jack shouted for them to stop, there had to be something else he could do. Anything they wanted, they could have it. He just didn’t know where the owner was.

The man motioned for the other thug to stop. He said as a matter of fact, there was something they needed from him. If he paid them a fee they’d set him loose. The amount that he asked for was ridiculously high. Jack said that coming up with that much was impossible. The man shrugged, saying that he was out of luck then. The thug bent his finger back, snapping it with a sickening crack. Jack yelled out painfully, begging them to stop. He didn’t mean it was impossible to get the money, he meant that it was impossible to get it all at once. The money from the park was in a bank account, and he couldn’t withdraw all of it in one day. The man paused, looking hard at him. Jack was lying through his teeth. But the thugs bought it. The man said that he had a week to come up with the money. He warned him not to talk or run, as they’d be watching him. They’d know, and all the people that he works with would join him. After the men left, Jack laid on his back, breathing heavily. What did he just do? What did he just agree to?

As soon as he got home that night, he raced to the phone and called the owner. As the line kept ringing he was looking all around him with his back pressed up against the wall. Jack had called over and over, begging for him to pick up the phone, but there was no answer. No, it couldn’t be. Jack didn’t want to believe it. The owner had left him in the hands of the mafia. He was completely on his own.

He didn’t sleep that night. He had barricaded his door and window with anything and everything he had, but even then he didn’t feel safe. He was terrified that they would come for him because he made that phone call. He just wanted to warn him, but now he wasn't even sure if he was still in Gotham. He sat on the floor of his now empty living room utterly terrified. He didn’t know what to do now. He couldn’t call the police or try to leave, they would skin him alive before he could set foot on a boat and who knows what else they would do to his employees. The money they were asking for he didn’t have. He was barely scraping by with the park. The only thing he thought to do was continue running the park and hope that within a week it was enough.

Jack had gone back to work like nothing had happened. He greeted guests, helped performers with their shows, carrying on like he usually was. But while walking the grounds his eyes were darting everywhere. The men that cornered him that night could be inside the park, watching him, hiding amongst the crowds of people. With every passing day he would count up the money, his hands trembling when the numbers were short yet again. He looked down at his bandaged finger. It pained him to do it, but Jack withheld everyone’s paycheck. When they came to him the following morning asking about it, he lied and told them that there was an error with the bank and that they would be paid soon. He had no idea where he was going to get the money to pay them. In the end, it didn’t matter at all. His week was up and it wasn’t enough.

He had been so focused on getting the money and pretending like everything was fine that he didn’t write for his show. His show, which was so important to him that once upon a time he thought he would be fired over it not being up to par to his normally high standards, had been entirely forgotten. It was the least of his concerns. He only had three quarters of the money after pulling it from everywhere he could think of even lying to his own people. He had prayed to whatever holy force that the men would be satisfied and decide to spare him.

His show that night, the day of his deadline, would be entirely improv. He was getting ready in his dressing room, his hands shaking too much to get the teardrop on his other cheek to look right so he just left it as the one. His mind was spiraling. He hadn’t seen or heard anything about the men since. Perhaps they had forgotten about him, or even better they were killed by one of the other mafia. He breathed through the tightness in his chest. Out of all the places in the park that he’s been, the stage was where he had spent most of his time. That’s where he felt the safest, the audience being with him. He wouldn’t be alone, and that was assuring to him.

He breathed, in and out, focusing on becoming someone else. Someone a lot braver and bolder than he was. He went inside the big top tent, stepping onto the stage, the bright lights shining down on him. He took a bow, the audience clapped. He stood back up and his eyes made contact with someone sitting in with the crowd. It was the leader of that group of men. No, that wasn’t right. It was just someone who looked like the guy. His eyes were playing tricks on him because he was sleep deprived. They wouldn’t be here with all these people around. If they did come looking for him they would have waited for him outside the gates like they had done last time.

They both were looking at each other. The man clapped, a slight smile on his face. Jack the Joker grinned, thanking the audience for coming. He could feel the sweat begin to gather at his head. He had nothing prepared for what to say or do, he simply started talking about whatever came to his mind. He pulled a random story that he had written a long time ago but he never used it because he couldn’t come up with a good ending.

The story was about when he, the Joker, had run away from becoming a prince. He had rode far away from home on a horse. But when he stopped to rest, the horse had run away. He considered himself unlucky. But walking along the path on foot, he came across some farmers who had found his horse, and they were using it to steer their wagon. The farmers gave him a ride, and he considered himself lucky. But then it began to rain very heavily and the path became too muddy to continue. He considered himself unlucky. After it stopped raining, all the water filled a dried up stream bed. He and the farmers used the wagon to float down the river all the way to the next town. He considered himself lucky.

This was where the story had ended. As he was telling it, he thought about what could happen next to wrap it up nicely like all his other stories. But after telling it he realized that the story was perfect the way it was, as though it was always meant to be that way.

Jack used all of the fan favorite magic tricks for the latter half of the show. He produced flowers out of a wand, tossing them to an audience member, pulled apart connected metal rings with a flick of his wrist, and performed a dazzling and comedic light show with firecrackers. Even improvised, the audience loved him. They cheered his name as he took a bow. After everyone had made their way out of the tent, there was one person left.

The man slowly stood, clapping while he approached Jack on stage. The man said that he was impressed. He’d seen nothing quite like it before. Jack was frozen in place. He wanted to run but he knew that would just make it worse. He cleared his throat, saying that he had his money. From his coat pocket he produced a fat envelope. The man stepped onto the stage, snatching it from him and opening it. He looked through it, then looked at Jack, asking him if this was all. Jack swallowed, saying quietly that he couldn’t quite get all of it, though if they gave him more time he could make them the other quarter.

The man said that he had given him his chance already, and he was out of patience. He put the money back in its envelope, shouting for his men. As the thugs filed into the tent, Jack pleaded with him to just give him a little more time, just a little more patience and he would have it. He had nothing left in their account to give them, not his account, not the park’s account, he even stole what he did give him. The mafia surrounded him, grabbing hold of his arms and shoved him down to his knees.

The leader of the group tucked the envelope into the back of his pants, then produced a small, curved knife from his sleeve. He told him that for his trouble, and for putting on a great show, he would pay him back and show him mercy. He leaned down, grabbing Jack by his cheeks. Tears were spilling over his fear-filled eyes and causing his clown makeup to run. ‘Why so sad?’ The man asked him. ‘Turn that frown upside down.’

The man used his thumb and pulled the side of Jack’s mouth wide. He tried to thrash his head and crane his neck back, but one of the thugs grabbed him by the hair while the leader shoved his knife against his teeth, dragging the blade up. Jack screamed in horrific pain, and continued to scream when the man kept slowly pulling his knife further and further up his face. No one could hear him from outside over the sounds of the park.

After he was done carving one side of Jack’s face, he moved to the other side, forcing his mouth into a crude smile that went past his eyes. He was barely conscious by this point, his head bobbing around as though he were fighting sleep. All he could do was moan, the sound escaping his throat as a gurgle.

The man stood up and looked down at him, wiping the blood from his knife. Jack could see him talking, but he couldn’t hear the words. The men holding him let him go, and his body slumped over. The world seemed to move at a slower pace. He was getting cold, but he didn’t mind it. As he stared out through the entrance of the tent, everything had turned upside down. He was upside down, suspended by his feet above the stage. As his blood pooled to the back of his throat, Jack couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. His world was darkening, inviting him to join it. And he did.

His eyes flew open and he was instantly blinded by a bright white light. He winced, shutting them again. He went to cover them but he couldn’t move his hands. He could hear voices all around him, and as he tried to squint he was made acutely aware of the massive headache in his temples. Slowly his vision returned to him, and he realized that he wasn’t alone. He was surrounded by people, all wearing white coats, and they were staring at him. He was laying down on an uncomfortably flat table, his wrists and feet strapped down with a light over him shining in his face.

‘Can you understand us?’ He heard one of them ask. ‘Yes?’ He said confusedly. ‘Can you tell us your name? How do you feel?’ His eyebrows knitted together, his head pounding. They wanted to know his name? He’d only just woke up and he was being asked too many questions. ‘J- uh..’ He searched his mind for an answer but the pain only worsened. ‘Where am I?’ He said instead. ‘You’re in Arkham Asylum.’ The doctor answered.

[sketch-owl]

This is exactly what I was imagining in my head when reading this chapter! Ford’s expressions 🤌 so good

part 1 of my Theseus' Guide chapter 8 animatic because i just dont know when i'll have the chance to do part 2!

[sketch-owl]

Colored the boy

I liked this sketch of my fnaf oc

[sketch-owl]

All about the Mad Hatter post!

Hello fellow Tumblr users, if you’ve stumbled across this wall of text congrats! You love and enjoy Batman content just as much as I do. This is a dedicated lore dump all about our favorite goofy lad Jervis as he exists in my Batman AU.

If this is the first one you’re reading, here’s a bit of backstory: This AU has existed in my brain for many years, though in true writer fashion I haven’t properly written it all out. Though eventually I intend to make this into a work of fiction with chapters and everything. For now though I have managed to write out all of our major characters’ backstories.

Before delving right in you should know that this story has dark themes that take place within the story and content that can be triggering, so if you are sensitive to those please read with caution or skip this one altogether. Mental health takes first place over silly Batman characters.

⚠️Trigger warning for:

Child abuse

Child trafficking

Death

Murder

Jervis Tetch aka the Mad Hatter was an only child who grew up in London with his mother and father who were in an unhappy marriage. Jervis’s father was physically abusive towards his mother, and his mother, who felt socially pressured into not believing in divorce, drowned her pain with alcohol. Though emotionally absent, she would try her best to protect her son and give him a normal childhood. His father grew resentful of how his wife would ‘baby’ their son and give him so much of her attention. When Jervis was a toddler, his father sold him off to a family friend that was willing to take him. This family friend came and picked up Jervis in the middle of the night with his mother oblivious to what was happening. The friend then turned around and sold him at a higher price to child traffickers. For years Jervis was passed around, his body used as a plaything, and he was powerless to do anything about it. Until one day an opportunity presented itself. A phone left unattended. He dialed the police and begged them for help, sputtering out every detail of where he was so they could find him. He was caught by one of the traffickers, and the line was cut off. They needed to move their operation, but before that they were going to make sure Jervis would never pull something like this again.

They beat him within an inch of his life. His body was broken, and his mind wanted to slip away into the blissful nothingness. He could be free of pain, free from his hell. But a part of him burned with hate. Hate for people, hate for the feeling of being powerless. That fire burned, and it burned bright and hot. In a shock wave, everyone inside the building, traffickers and children included, burned from the inside out. The police arrived at the scene, and no one was left alive. All except one. One lone survivor, a boy no older than 8. After conducting an investigation, the police later concluded that there was a gas leak inside the building, and when one of the traffickers lit a cigarette the entire building went up in flames. Despite there being no evidence of a gas leak, this was the only logical explanation.

Jervis was taken to hospital, and while recovering the police asked him about what happened, to which Jervis didn’t recall. He received counseling from a therapist, and from there the police tracked down his parents. After being told that their son had been found inside a child trafficking organization, the police questioned his father on why he never reported his son missing. His father told the police that he had no idea that his son was kidnapped, as the last he saw him Jervis was spending the night at a friend’s house. The police took the name of the family friend that Jervis was given to, and they were arrested for child trafficking.

The doctors told Jervis of the good news, that he would soon be able to return home to his father. But Jervis was less than thrilled. He wanted his mom, not his dad.

Considering his hesitation to see his family, the doctors pushed for CPS to do regular check-ins at his residence after he returned home, and he continued with counseling. Things had not changed since Jervis had left. Only now his dad was more careful in his abuse, as they now had eyes on them.

That fire that Jervis had felt moments before everything went dark remained. He stifled it, ignored it, moved on like nothing had happened to him. He began school, and his teachers noted that Jervis would sometimes have moments where he would shut down. He showed promise with his work, being a fast learner. But oftentimes he wouldn’t be interested in the work, and would refuse participation.

Essentially his teachers were the only ones pushing for him to actually do the work in class. He was smart enough to pick up new information the first time and retain it without practice, but lacked the motivation or drive to complete assignments. Some of his papers would be half-way done or entirely blank. The teachers reached out to his parents multiple times to let them know what was going on and possible solutions, but they went ignored. By next semester Jervis was pulled from elementary school, his parents saying they wished to home school him from then on.

It didn’t take long thereafter before Jervis hit a breaking point. Since being pulled from public school Jervis had not received any schooling from either parent. One night his mother had drunk herself into a stupor, and instead of falling asleep at the kitchen table like usual, she decided to take her bottled anger out on her son. With a slurred hiss she blamed Jervis for how her husband treated her, how having him was a mistake, how it would have been better if he was never born. The candle flame that burned lowly in Jervis’s chest grew to a blaze. The anger that he felt that day returned. He was abandoned by them. Given away like he was nothing. He suffered because of them. He was violated because of them. He almost died because of them. All this time he believed that it was his fault that his parents didn’t love him. That he had done something wrong to make his father hate him and give him away. But in this moment it clicked in his mind. As though it were instinct, he bore that scorching fire through the head of the woman that stood above him. Her demeanor changed in an instant. Her face relaxed, her eyes glazed over. She turned, grabbing her husband’s hunting rifle off of the mantle, and fired it through her mouth.

Jervis’s head rang, overwhelmed by a blinding pain. He squeezed his eyes shut. For a couple of seconds it felt like his brain was going to explode. When he opened his eyes again, his mother’s corpse laid before him, her brains painting the floor and wall of the house. When his father came home from work, Jervis seized control of his mind as well, made him bury his wife under the shed in the backyard, made him dig his own grave, and then shoot himself.

Jervis stood in his empty home, mind blank yet racing at the same time. He possessed powers that allowed him to control the minds of others. He didn’t know when or how he got them, all he knew was that he was never going to be helpless and vulnerable again.

Though he couldn’t hide in the house forever, surviving off of whatever food was left in the pantry. CPS was still visiting, with his father’s car still in the driveway. Also people were going to notice when his father didn’t show up to work. He went a couple blocks down the road, knocking on a neighbor’s door. The owner of the house answered. She just so happened to be a parent herself, and she opened her door out of concern for the seemingly lost child. Wordlessly Jervis took hold of her mind, and entered the house.

It is here where Jervis began to experiment with his new abilities. He could control multiple people at once if he strained himself, including the other children that lived in the house. He reached into their minds without their knowledge, challenging the stretch of his influence. He grasped onto their memories, ripping and tearing at them with curiosity. He lived with the family for several months, eating their food and sleeping on their living room couch, and all the while their minds were manipulated into ignoring his presence.

The more he pushed his limits, the more his sanity suffered. His moments of dissociation turned into breakdowns, or lapses in his own memory. He would lose long periods of time where he didn’t recall what he did or how long it had been. He both loved and hated the power he had. It was the key to his freedom, his survival, but in turn it was driving him mad.

During one of these episodes of lost time, Jervis came back to consciousness to find that the house was empty. It was unusual for this part of the day, the kids would normally be home from school and their mother would be cooking dinner. His concerns for them grew as the hours passed. In the back of his mind he knew that he wouldn’t be seeing them again. What he had done to them, what he had made them do, he couldn’t remember. That was the part that disturbed him the most. His body was acting without his mind’s command, doing things without his knowing. Even with powers, he was powerless to stop himself.

He moved onto the next house, and then the next, taking control of the minds of the residents and living in their home like a parasite. He brushed off his moments of lost time as a tiny side effect, focusing entirely on just surviving. He wasn’t going crazy, no. He’s just overwhelmed by it all, he’s just not used to the power yet.

Meanwhile, the police were still searching for Jervis as the prime suspect in his parents’ murder. They followed the trail of bodies that he left in his wake, and were quickly catching up to him. There was a close call where an officer showed up to the family’s door that he was currently staying with. Jervis wasn’t directly puppeting them, so unbeknownst to him they allowed the officer to come inside the house while they spoke. Jervis had narrowly avoided being seen, and while that doesn’t seem like a big deal considering he could wipe the officer’s memory, that power only worked within a limited distance. Once the officer was far enough away, he would gain back his memories. Simply killing him wouldn’t be enough either. People care more about the lives of law enforcement than they do about normal civilians.

All it would take is to be seen one time by an officer, and sooner or later his spree would come to an end. His freedom would be stripped from him, and for what he has done, they would execute him. Like a mad dog they would bar him inside of a cage, and then put him down. No matter how well he covered his tracks, they would still follow him. He needed to go farther away to a place where they would not follow. Somewhere where it would be impossible to find him. A big, crime ridden city like Gotham would do nicely.

He had the husband of the family quit his old job and find a new one within Gotham. They then moved overseas, the expenses drying up their savings. In order to afford living costs, they crammed into a small 2 bedroom apartment in West Gotham. More specifically they were in Burnley, a town most known for being one of the poorest and sketchiest neighborhoods to live in. A majority of Gotham’s lower class end up here. Rent is cheap, police are scarce, and the jobs provided by the criminal underground keep its people off the streets.

The family that Jervis was with didn’t last much longer after that. When he came back into himself, he left the apartment to move on to the next home to inhabit. But he quickly found that doing so in this part of the city wasn’t as simple as it was in London. People were kind, caring, and opened their doors to him. But not here. It took him a great deal of effort to finally find somewhere safe enough to hide. An old hat shop that has seen better days, the only person inside being the owner who was an old man dressed in expensive looking clothing tailored to him.

Jervis went to take hold of the man’s mind, to forcibly take all control that he had over his own body away from him. But his power bounced right off of him, having no effect. That was odd. This has never happened before. Jervis tried again, straining his mind to overpower the man’s. Nothing still. The man then spoke up, welcoming him into the hat shop, and pointing out that it was rude of him to sneak it. He might be blind, but he wasn’t deaf. Upon a closer look, the man’s eyes were glazed over with a white film. A blind hat maker.

For the first time in years, Jervis made conversation. The man introduced himself, Jervis did the same. The man could tell from his voice that Jervis was young, to which the man appreciated his presumed interest in fashion. Jervis lied and agreed that he was. But he was more so curious to hear about how a blind man could sew. The man explains that he doesn’t, at least not anymore. He received the news of his going eyesight a couple years back after going to the doctor to get them checked. There was nothing they could do to prevent it, as it happens to everyone eventually when they grow old. For some it happens sooner than others. He loves his shop, loves the craft, and he was devastated. But he didn’t want to let it go. So he spent every day making as many hats and accessories as he could so that he would be able to sell them after he could no longer make them. His main source of income though came mainly from custom work. But now that he can’t make hats anymore, his business has rapidly declined. Jervis was his first visitor that he’s had in a while.

As the man spun his tale, Jervis had a look around the shop. Lovely, one of a kind hats were set up and displayed, along with a couple of outfits that looked to be hand made by him as well. The man wore his own work. In the back office of the store looked to be where he would sew, with a wall dedicated to fabrics and an old, dusty sewing machine on top of a table covered in various small decorations. Jervis asked if he could hire someone else to keep making hats. The man chuckled, saying that if one such person knew how to do what he did, they too would own and run their own store. They wouldn’t be working under someone. Jervis then asked if he considered having an assistant then and teaching them how to sew. The man says that he’s thought about taking on an apprentice, but the people that pass through his store have never shown interest. Except for him that is.

Jervis then visited the shop the next day. And then the next. The two of them would talk for hours. The man would offer to show Jervis something new. How to use the sewing machine, how to sew by hand, how to make clothing. Without words Jervis became the man’s apprentice. Creating something with his own hands had given Jervis a spark, and having someone to teach gave the man comfort.

When the man asked Jervis about his own life, he didn’t make mention of being homeless. He knew that if he did, the man would offer up his own home for Jervis to stay, even without being mind controlled into it. If he were to move in, sooner or later whether he wanted to or not, the man would eventually meet a gruesome end at Jervis’s hand. He didn’t want that. Before, the atrocities that he would commit were inconsequential. It didn’t matter if a mother, a father, and their children died because all he was using them for was to hide from the world. This time was different though. He cared for the man, though he would never admit it. He wanted to hear the stories that the man would tell from his own life. He wanted to make the man’s life easier by helping him get around the shop, by cleaning, by being his eyes.

Eventually Jervis had crafted a hat of his very own. A traditional tall top hat with an odd choice of colors and patterns. The size was a bit big on Jervis too, which made him look even smaller than he already was. But he proudly showed it to the man. He listened to Jervis describe what it looked like as he felt along it. Of course it had little imperfections being Jervis’s first, but that didn’t matter to the man. He encouraged Jervis to put together an outfit next, and to wear it with pride. No one in the world would have what he had. He would be one of a kind.

Later that evening, Jervis left the shop wearing his hat. That day was the last time he would see the old man. The following morning when Jervis returned, he found the shop’s front windows and glass door were shattered and the displays knocked over. His heart leapt into his throat as he sprinted for the door. Ducking through the broken frame, he called the man’s name. Usually he was here to open the store before this time. His eyes darted around as he stepped over hats and mannequins, until they landed on a hand lying on the ground, peeking out from behind the counter.

He rushed towards him, but time seemed to slow to a halt. This couldn’t be happening, surely. This was all in his head. He finally lost it, and this was something his diseased mind made up. He rounded the counter. The man was there, laying in his own blood on the ground, unmoving. His knees gave out as he fell to the floor, hat tumbling off his head and landing in the man’s blood. He wanted to believe that this was a dream that he was going to wake up from. He wanted to believe that he wouldn’t do this, that his own mind would betray him like this. But as he crawled the rest of the way over to his body, pants and hands getting stained with his blood, he knew that there was no point in denying it. This was real, and it was all his fault.

Jervis didn’t know what else to do other than apologize, over and over again, even though the man couldn’t hear him. This was sick. He felt sick. His brain writhed and pounded in his skull, and his eyes stung as he looked at the corpse before him through tears. The man was on his back facing up, and was holding his chest. Jervis moved his hand, and underneath was a hole from which the blood escaped from. A bullet wound, it looked like. That was odd. Jervis didn’t own a gun, and he didn’t recall the man having one either.

Shakily he stood, looking around the shop again. The place was a wreck, but he found bullet holes in the back wall as well as a few stray ones on the floor. He went out of the store, walking down to the next building, then the next. Several bullet holes adorned the wall, and more broken glass. Sprawled out on the sidewalk were a few bodies, having been shot multiple times. Looking them over, they all wore the same winter jacket with a silhouette of a bird printed on the back. This wasn’t him. Someone else came down this street, carelessly firing away. A spark flickered behind Jervis’s eyes. A heat rose in his chest. Whoever did this, they were going to pay.

A bit of research later and Jervis finds that the logo on the back of the men's jackets belong to a very well-known crime lord within the city who goes by the name of Penguin. Gangs fighting gangs in a war for territory. It didn't matter who was caught in the crossfire so long as one of them came out on top. He needed whoever ran this gang to die, along with everyone associated with it. He wanted this gang to be erased. And what better way to start than to find the Penguin?

Before leaving the old hat shop behind, Jervis went through the old man’s things. Useful things such as the money out of the safe and the man’s red coat that was hanging up on the rack. While looking around for the key to the safe he has found some papers stashed away. The papers look to be blue prints for something, but Jervis can’t figure out what they’re for. He decides to revisit them later.

Jervis found that while he was controlling a person, he could forcibly extract information from their memories. It was taxing for him to do, and he needed to strain the limits of his powers to do it, but it could be done. Weaker willed minds were easier, like the thugs that thoughtlessly followed their leader. None of them knew which rival gang had made the assault, but they did know where the Penguin was. He would use the crime lord’s own men against him.

While traveling from South Gotham to East Gotham, Jervis stewed over his plan. He would bypass the Penguin’s defenses by controlling every guard he saw, manipulating their minds into ignoring his existence. Then when he gets to Penguin, he would infiltrate his mind and forcibly take the information from his skull. He would find who was responsible, and then wipe them from the face of this Earth.

And for the most part this plan worked. He arrived at a classy and upscale looking building that was a couple stories tall. For Gotham’s standards in terms of architecture, the place stuck out like a rich thumb. He waltzed through the front doors, shooting daggers at any security that littered the halls and making them turn the other way. He rode the elevator up to the top floor, Penguin’s mind controlled goons trailing behind him. At the end of the hall was a glass door with gold accents, an obvious sign that this was his office, with even more guards standing in front of it. With ease, he made the men unlock and open the door for him. Stepping inside, he was met with the man of the hour. Seated at his desk on the far side of the room was a heavy set man dressed nicely in a black and white business attire, a pair of small spectacles sitting low on his crooked and curved nose. The Penguin was leaned back in his chair, elbow resting lazily on the desk’s surface with a pistol in his gloved hand, pointed towards Jervis standing in the doorway.

Jervis tried to seize control of Penguin’s mind, immediately trying to force his body to bend to his will and drop the pistol. But he felt the connection fell short. A wall of red appeared out in front of him, circling around Penguin like a force field. Before Jervis could think, a bang went off. Instinctively he ducked, falling to the polished floor. His hat fell next to him, a new bullet hole adorning it. Jervis held out his hands, squeaking out a plea for him to stop. Penguin chuckled, saying that he had some balls on him to walk so confidently into the king of Gotham’s place of business and think he could kill him so easily. He didn’t know what sort of trick he was pulling to puppet his men, but that was never going to work on him. He’s been in this game for too long, and he could see Jervis coming the moment he stepped foot on his property. But it was a fair shot, he’d give him that. Penguin then aimed his pistol down at the boy’s head, though before he pulled the trigger Jervis blurted out that his mentor was killed in a hit and run by one of his rivals and he was only hoping to find out who. He was never out to kill him, just whoever was responsible.

Penguin paused for a moment, staring down at Jervis. He then laughed, his belly bouncing with his shoulders. What a foolish way to die, he said to Jervis. Petty revenge? That was what he was going to waste himself on? Penguin placed his gun back into his cane, the handle becoming the cane’s handle. He said that Jervis reminded him of himself when he was young and trying to make his mark on the city. And if he could impart a word of advice, revenge would never heal him. He’s been down that road before, and it only resulted in more pain. But he also understood that Jervis would probably never be satisfied until he learned that lesson on his own. He would give up the name as a freebie, but if he ever saw Jervis’s mug around his property again he was dead, and he wouldn’t be given a warning shot.

After looking through the rival gangs he had in South Gotham, there was only one that was competing for territory in the same area that the hat shop was in. A mob leader by the name of Black Mask.

Seeing as his last plan didn’t go as well as he’d thought, Jervis devised another plan that he put more thought into this time around. This plan went a lot smoother. Using the information that Penguin gave him, he went back to South Gotham and to a couple different addresses that Penguin recalled to be hot spots for Black Mask gang members. This process took awhile, not only because Jervis didn’t know his way around the city and was relying on public transportation, but also Black Mask members all wore the same skull mask as their leader. But eventually he found the right place. One man stood out from the rest. The color that surrounded him was a green color while everyone else’s was a shade of blue. His aura, the energy from his mind, gave him away.

In one fell swoop Jervis seized control over Black Mask as well as a handful of his goons, and with them he completely obliterated them. It was all over within a matter of minutes, the gang members opening fire on their own. Bullet casings and corpses covered the floor. The only people left standing were three men. As he held them in place he debated on how he should kill them. Having them shoot themselves was the obvious option, but he thought about having them fight each other instead and seeing who wins. Then another thought crossed his mind. Penguin telling him that revenge would bring him nothing but more pain. What nonsense. He got what he wanted, and he felt amazing. Strong. Powerful. He looked at the three men before him, standing mindlessly waiting for his commands. He decided then that in absence of their old leader, he would assume the role as their new leader. It felt so good being on top. Being on top was safe. Being on top meant he was untouchable. And this would only be the beginning of his reign.

Though straining his powers like that left him depleted. He took a moment to sit down and rest, thinking of what to do next. Absentmindedly he took out the blueprint he found hidden in the old man’s shop. Though he doesn’t get very far into it, partly due to exhaustion and partly due to his world quickly getting corrupted by weird hallucinations, making it hard to focus without being interrupted.

The next morning he still didn’t feel much better, and was still seeing things. Occasionally he would hear sounds like someone speaking from behind him, when really there is no one there besides the gang members going about their business. He decides to go across the street to grab something to wake him up. A little shop with no name on it, but the front window had lots of whimsical looking bottles, jarred herbs and bagged grounds. He spotted a bag of tea leaves in the mix. Perfect, and the shop wasn’t too far away to where he would lose his grip on the gang. He went inside.

Upon entering the shop, the interior appeared to expand before him into a much larger space compared to the outside. Jervis chalked this strange illusion up to one of his hallucinations. The place was decorated with all sorts of greenery and plant life, even the very ground seemed alive as he walked on it. Walls lined with tall shelves were stocked full of an assortment of books, trinkets, oddities, incense, and plants. Every inch of space in the already spacious shop was used, and looked to be organized as well as it could be. Though no shop owner was to be found. Jervis called out, but no answer. Odd, the door was unlocked. He went over to the bag of tea leaves in the window and picked it up. While looking at its contents, something else caught his eye. It was eyes. A jar full to be exact, placed on a nearby table. He didn’t get to look closer before he was startled by a voice behind him. Turning, half expecting it to be nothing, he saw there was a beautiful young woman with long, flowing red hair and fair skin. She was wearing a nice looking dress with an apron over it. She was looking at him expectantly. He blinked. She repeated herself, asking if she could help him find anything.

Jervis stammered out a response. He held out the bag of tea leaves and said he was looking to purchase them. The woman made no move to take them, but did raise an eyebrow as she looked at him up and down. She asked if he was sure that he wanted those leaves in particular. Jervis looked confused. It was just tea wasn’t it? The woman smiled. She introduced herself by the name Ivy, and this was her Shop of Many Things where she sells everything from spells to remedies. What he held was not just tea leaves, but love potion leaves. Just add hot water, and the tea will make almost anyone fall in love with the first person they see. Jervis laughed. Magic leaves that made a love potion tea? That was quite the sale’s pitch. No, he wasn’t looking to fall in love. He just needed something for his headache. Ivy nodded in agreement, and turned to the shelves. After a bit of rummaging, she returned with a different bag and handed it to him. This blend would be just the thing for his psych fatigue. Jervis gave her back the love leaf bag, looking at the new one. They looked like regular crushed dried leaves, nothing special or magic about them. He was willing to try anything at this point, so he paid for it and went on his way.

Going back to the building across the street where he was currently staying, he heated up some water in the microwave that was there and dropped a generous amount of the leaves into the cup. For a moment, as soon as the blend started to mix with the water, the color seemed to shift and glow a bright blue. But it vanished as soon as it appeared, settling into a more brownish red. Jervis passed this off as being another trick of his mind. He poured the tea through a coffee filter to collect the leaves, and then took a long sip. A couple of seconds later, his headache had disappeared. Relief washed over him. The fog that was clouding his mind had lifted, and he could think a bit clearer. It was almost like magic. He sat down with his tea and looked around the empty room, lost in thought. He could see that the illusions were still there, but were in the edges of his vision and less noticeable. The gang members that he was passively controlling were sitting idly throughout the building, quietly reading or watching tv. He didn’t feel safe in this place. He felt vulnerable, like anyone at any moment could come in and kill him. He needed to move to another location and lay low for a while. People in the underworld were going to notice that a crime lord is missing.

And notice they did. Black Mask was a man who utilized power and fear to dominate other organizations in his territory. He controlled everything, from trading to manufacturing to planned crime. The sudden drop in activity created a mad dash to claim everything that previously belonged to Black Mask, including his known hideouts. Jervis tries to move locations and take Black Mask’s men and supplies with him, but the hideout gets swarmed by several armed groups and a full turf war breaks out.

Jervis lost control over Black Mask’s men while trying to get himself out, and they turned on him in an instant. He gets injured, but the chaos happening around them provides him with the opportunity to squirm away.

He’s angry with himself for being weak and easily losing control over the only protection that he had. He would not allow something like this to happen again. He would find a new home on North Gotham island, in a district named Amusement Mile. The entire northern side of the island has a huge amusement park that has been abandoned for several years, along with scrap yards and construction equipment.

After scoping out the place, he finds that there is actually another amusement park built directly below the one on the surface. The underground amusement park looks to be even more old and worn down, appearing to be the first park built on the island before it was shut down. Whoever built the new park didn’t bother to get rid of the old one, and simply built it over top of it.

After thoroughly investigating the underground park, he finds the remnants of someone who once lived there in one of the attractions. It was a train ride, and one part of the ride went through a series of tunnels decorated with flora and animatronic creatures. The robots have since broken down and dry rotted. Jervis absolutely loved it. The place reminded him of a story book called Alice in Wonderland.

Whoever squatted here had left behind a mattress that they slept on, food, books, and a lot of useless junk. Among the piles of trash Jervis found some assorted parts. Circuit boards, computer chips, nuts and bolts, and the like. He was suddenly reminded of the blueprint that he carried with him.

This is the part where there’s a time skip, and now we got an adult Mad Hatter who has gotten even more unhinged. With some of the parts that he found in the trash pile, he used the blueprint to create a mask. The mask is fitted with a special receiver device on the inside, and if he made it correctly, it would be able to respond to psychic energy. This way he didn’t need to stay close to the people he controlled, and he didn’t need to worry about losing his hold on them. This would be a permanent solution.

His overall goal is to be in a position where no one can touch him. To be a powerful force where he needn’t answer to anyone, but rather everyone answer to him. But to achieve his goal, he needs to get rid of the people in power who are the biggest threats to him in the city. Two-Face, Penguin, and the Batman.

Two-Face is right below Penguin in terms of underworld hierarchy. He invaded Bane’s gang after Bane lost his mind to the Venom drug that he was medically addicted to, and needed to survive. Two-Face offered for Bane’s men to join him, and killed the ones who refused. Essentially, Two-Face has the muscle and Penguin has the money. The only reason Two-Face isn’t the one on top is because Penguin controls the markets, and thus he is able to get better armor and weapons for his men.

Jervis manages to assume control over Two-Face, and shortly thereafter his army of grunts. He planned to immediately go for Penguin next, but hit a massive roadblock: Scarecrow.

Scarecrow’s fear toxin affects a person’s mind to a dangerously destructive degree. So much so that even with a mind control device strapped to their face, the toxin disrupts the connection that Jervis has to them. It took only 1 encounter with the spooky man, but he effectively dispatched Jervis’s army that he got to have for 00.5 seconds.

Imagining a scene after this where Jervis runs away, and only a couple people are left alive still under the effects of the toxin. Two-Face included. Scarecrow goes over to him. He’s terrified, in his own personal hell that only he can see. His hand is clenched tightly around something. It was his lucky coin, the same one that he used to decide the fates of many. He was using it now, this time to ground himself in reality. Scarecrow plucked the coin out of the man’s fidgeting fingers. Two-Face would say to his victims that the coin would make the decision of life or death, not him. He called himself a firm believer in everything being completely random. That we have no control over what happens to us. Though interestingly, Scarecrow points out, Two-Face has never used the coin on himself. It seems the rules have only applied to those that he has control over. But that’s obviously not the case, because life is entirely random right? So let’s have the coin make the choice.

Despite losing all of his puppets once again, Jervis still succeeded in his main goal which was to be rid of Two-Face. But now he had another obstacle in his way. He’s heard talk and read articles about a masked figure in a straw hat floating around South Gotham and terrorizing communities, but nothing beyond that. Nothing about him being this big of a threat.

Jervis came into his persona as the Mad Hatter after reintroducing himself to the crime lords, who were involved in a dispute with each other. The lords were all trying to one up each other by any means they could come up with to gain the upper hand on them, and in walks a small, scrawny guy in a top hat proclaiming that he had the answers to their predicament. He greeted them by the name The Hatter, and freely gave each one of the lords private information about their enemy. Information that no one else would know or have beside the person themself. The lords took this information and destroyed each other with it. Family members were murdered in cold blood, bank accounts were stolen and depleted, homes were burnt to the ground, powerful allies were turned against them. No one had come out on top. No one except the Hatter. Ruined and defeated, the Hatter took over their minds and added them to his growing collection of guests at his table.

On one hand, the Hatter wanted to be the one on top. He wanted to be in control of the city itself as the puppet master behind the screen, its systems for him to shape as he chooses. He wanted to create a world that he could shape in his image. He would create a world where he would be safe, utterly and completely. An unstoppable, untouchable force. But on the other hand, he was still losing himself. He often forgets his own plans for his goal and loses track of time. He sustains his sanity on a special blend of tea provided to him by Ivy, but after buying up her stock of it whenever she makes more, she had told him that she couldn’t keep making it. The tea itself isn’t just something she can keep whipping up, she needed ingredients that were very difficult to find.

Hatter asked if she could keep making it so long as she had the ingredients to do so. Ivy agreed, and gave him a list of a few of the items she needed. He read through the list. One of the items listed was an organic and healthy human brain. Hatter looked at Ivy like she was joking. She was not.

Hatter keeps his guests at his table, having a continuous tea party until he needs more tea to be made.

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Gram concepts, armor prone to change

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Unfinished Mal

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Some Mesos

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Eldritch horror disguised as a plague doctor

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Finished commission

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New Blorbo just dropped

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I liked this sketch of my fnaf oc

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Colored this commission of Scarecrow and Hatter I got from @pompadorkery :)

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Joker concepts

In my AU he is an undead so his skin underneath the makeup is a sickly pale-green