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dingoat · 2 years

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“I’m only here to establish an alibi.” sounds like a wonderful prompt

[Okay so the intent was to craft a short, punchy little comedy tale, but instead I've somehow wound up with almost 2.5k words of meandering shenanigans instead hahaha. I've borrowed @kunoichi-ume's Noara, @cinlat's Fynta, @humanrevolt's Crow, and a little bit of Jorgan for the ride so I hope it's entertaining at least for that crew? This is definitely one of those bits of writing where I just plonked the characters together and let them talk with next to no planning, I barely feel like I can be held accountable for the nonsense in here!]

A Solid Alibi

“WHOOOOAAAA–!!” Three voices hollered out in chorus as the out of town competitor, a burly selonian with jagged patterns bleached into her dark fur, was sent skidding across the ring. The spectating crowd was beside itself as the victor, a barabel with a toothy grin as broad as her shoulders, shook her still-sparking fists in the air and secured her third championship win.

“Did you see that? Did you see that? Now that was a fight,” Noara gestured emphatically at the holoscreen projected across a generous portion of the hotel room wall, grinning almost as wide as the hologrammatic shockboxing champ that was now graciously helping the selonian back onto her feet. “I don’t care what they say, the Outer Rim competition has nothing on Republic League.”

“I’ll admit,” Ahuska said through a fistful of popcorn. “I enjoyed that a hell of a lot more than I was expecting to. Better than borgleball any day of the week.”

Fynta helped herself to some of the popcorn out of Ahuska’s bowl, even though she wasn’t quite done with her own share yet. “You know we use some shockboxing techniques when we train with our units? One of the first times I-”

“Heyyyyy there ladies!” Fynta was destined to never finish her anecdote when the door to their room burst open, and a wide eyed Crow helped himself inside, his grin just a little more manic than usual. Arms laden with a tray of snacks, he kicked the door shut behind him and swooped over to the couch to set his offering gracefully across their laps.

Noara instinctively got up to make space for him to squeeze in beside Ahuska, but Crow waved his hands and shook his head, still grinning. “Oh no, no, don’t mind me, pretend I’m not here. Only please acknowledge that I’m here. Look at me, here. Here in this room with you.” He motioned up and down his body, and then about the whole room with an exaggerated flourish. “See? I’m not here to get in the way of your fun, I’m just here to establish an alibi.”

“Mmmhmm.” Ahuska’s mouth was now full of chocolate dipped juun berries, and the flat expression she shot Crow suggested she was all too familiar with the expression he wore. “And is there something we should know about before we accept your offering and let you stay?”

Fynta held her tongue, though from her perspective Ahuska had plainly already accepted the offering. She picked out a little bowl of hot spiced nuts for herself, the sort that make one’s eyes water, and leaned back with a tight-lipped smile. It had been a stroke of fortune that had brought them all together on Nar Shaddaa; a mission for herself and Aric, a meetup with an old friend of the clan for Noara and Torian, and… well, she wasn’t entirely sure what Crow and Ahuska were doing here, but she’d learned it was often better simply just not to know when it came to the outlaw couple. The hotel they’d agreed to meet up at and share some rooms for a few nights had overbooked, leaving them six single beds between them, split evenly between two rooms across the hall from one another.

Rather than force one of the couples to be split between rooms, they’d wound up deciding that the most fair arrangement would be to split all the couples, with Noara, Fynta and Ahuska taking one side of the hall, and Torian, Aric and Crow on the other. Aric, with two and a half headache’s worth of surplus paperwork to take care of, was the only one who’d needed a bit of convincing.

Having successfully crashed what Fynta and Noara had dubbed ‘Ahuska’s night of sports education’, Crow now beamed at the trio, fluttering his lashes while he shrugged innocently. “Oh, you know how it is. I… may or may not be a teeny tiny bit responsible for something that may or may not happen at all. I just want to be absolutely certain I don’t get the blame on the off chance that it does. Happen. Because I’ll have been here. Me, here, all night, see?”

“This means we’ll have to keep you under supervision all night, you realise,” Noara stated quietly, with a cheeky twinkle in her eye.

“Oh, yes. But that’s fine, I’ve got some spare binder cuffs with me if we ever need to leave you alone for a bit,” Fynta chimed in.

“Yeah, you’ll have to stay in eye or earshot the entire time you’re here,” Ahuska added swiftly before Crow could say whatever had flashed through his thoughts, and was met with a powerful smirk in return.

“Right, so a running commentary while I’m in the ‘fresher, got it.”

Fynta didn’t miss a beat. “That, or we just cuff you to the ‘fresher for the night.”

“Locked in the ensuite is a pretty solid alibi, don’t you think?” Noara considered.

“Hey. Hey, come on. I said I didn’t want to ruin whatever your plans are here. I brought snacks. I think that’s enough to keep me at guest rather than prisoner status don’t you think…?”

“Oh, yes, definitely. An honoured guest. A privileged guest.” Ahuska grinned at him. “Because you’re going to hang out right here with us and let Noara do your hair the way she’s always wanted while we watch some GWA fights…”

The way Noara’s eyes lit up halted Crow’s protests in their tracks.

“Oh, my stars, yes,” Noara slid the tray to one side to bounce up off the couch, and Ahuska did likewise, leaving the whole thing under Fynta’s jurisdiction.

“Lemme help you get your stuff. Crow, stay put.”

As the two bustled off, Crow found himself in the incredibly rare and unusual circumstance of being alone in a room with Fynta. His own expression came alight when he realised he had the opportunity to discuss something with her that never felt polite to bring up in broader company.

“What is that look for…?” Fynta side-eyed him with caution, lifting a brow as he slid onto the couch beside her.

“So.” He made a show of inspecting his nails before flashing Fynta a bright and knowing grin, waggling his eyebrows. “Fur, huh?”

For a moment Fynta was speechless, staring at Crow slack-jawed until she connected the dots and remembered exactly what their respective partners had in common. Then she laughed, her whole body shaking with mirth as she slapped Crow about the shoulders. “Right!? Nobody else gets it, do you find people can be super weird about it? Like no, no, I’m not into him just because he’s fuzzy, I love who he is and he just happens to also be a species covered in fur.”

“Right?” Crow had to laugh at the way Fynta punctuated her points with a series of emphatic gestures. “And it’s not like I don’t like it, I mean, she’s cute as hell, but I like it ‘cause it’s part of who she is, right? Of course I’m gonna enjoy how it makes her all…” he paused, gnawing on his lip as his cheeks flushed a little.

“Soft?” Fynta offered.

“So soft!” Crow positively lit up, and then touched two fingers to the underside of his chin. “Right here, right? Unbelievable.”

“Don’t tell him I said anything, but with Aric? Just a little higher…” Fynta touched her jawline, just below the base of her ear, her smile growing a little dreamy.

Crow’s grin nearly split his entire face, and then suddenly his eyes widened and he fixed Fynta with a wild and searching look. “Okay okay, but, have you ever had people making the stupid jokes about hairballs..?”

“Oh kriff, yes, and it’s so gross? Why do they even think that’s funny?”

“You know what’s actually funny? Asking di’kuts like that to explain the joke to you. Watching them talk themselves into circles trying to explain what’s ‘funny’ about implying that your partner behaves like an actual nexu.”

“Ha!” Fynta snorted appreciatively. “Oh I’ll have to remember that next time I hear key’shebe making jokes in terrible taste. I swear I get more annoyed than Aric most of the time…”

“What, Mister Stiff Upper Lip? He’s always struck me as the sort who bottles his rage, bet he loves seeing you arc up on his behalf though, heh. You aughtta see the way Ahuska obliterates people who say the wrong thing at the wrong time though!”

Fynta believed she could imagine. “Gets a little savage?”

“She is,” Crow said, lifting his fingers to his lips to perform a delicate chef’s kiss. “Magnificent. Got every right to be though. I never really realised just what asses people could be till I walked through a few Imperial spaceports with her? Feth.”

“Oh, there’s idiots like that on both sides of the war, believe me,” Fynta rolled her eyes, but then flashed Crow a cheeky grin. “Speaking of asses, though. Ahuska once mentioned a… chart…”

Crow started laughing so hard it took them both a moment to realise Ahuska and Noara had returned, their arms laden with a variety of hair products, their eyes wide as they stared at the way Crow was trying to bite back his sniggers.

“I feel like I should be concerned,” Ahuska said to Noara in a blatant stage-whisper.

“Never mind that. Crow! What do you like better, blue or purple?”

It was Crow’s turn to stare. “Uh. What exactly have I signed up for here?”

Noara simply smiled sweetly back at him. “The purple has glitter in it.”

Laughter echoed well into the night, and by the time the first light of day filtered gently through the window the group had managed roughly an hour of sleep between them, and Crow’s hair had never looked more fabulous. Even Ahuska had allowed herself to be given a purple streak to match, after making the mistake of mentioning the fact that she’d never actually gotten her hair coloured in her life, with Noara firmly insisting that the fur dye tattoo on her shoulder absolutely did not count.

The exhausted bliss of a long night in threatened to be shattered when a strangled roar bellowed across the hall, and Fynta startled herself upright, blinking in bleary alarm. “Aric…?”

Crow carefully avoided Ahuska’s gaze while a series of thumps and exasperated snarls continued to sound from the other room.

“...what did you do?” she pressed, while he twiddled his thumbs and ran a hand through his spectacularly quiffed, shimmering purple hair.

“Absolutely nothing. You know I didn’t. I’ve been here literally all-”

A heavy slam interrupted them, as the door was thrust open with uncharacteristic ferocity. There, framed in the doorway, bare chested and square shouldered with only a towel wrapped around his waist to preserve his modesty, was none other than Aric Jorgan. His glare was so fierce his eyes were virtually glowing, and they were fixed on Crow. “Don’t think for a second you’re going to get away with this…”

“Hey hey hey hey, hold up, whatever you think I’ve done, I swear it wasn’t me, just ask any of this lot. I haven’t left this room all night, not since I dropped by after dinner last night!”

“He’s actually telling the truth,” Fynta spoke up, her gaze darting rapid fire between her husband and Crow. “He hasn’t left our sight. In fact, from some point he wouldn’t have been able to leave even if he’d wanted to…” She half-rolled across the floor to where Crow was slumped against the sofa, and tugged on his arm. A clink of chain and flash of metal against his wrist reminded them all that her binder cuffs had, in fact, made an appearance at some point during the night.

Jorgan stared. “Fynta are those…” he blinked several times, then waved a hand and turned his head, shaking it fiercely before storming back out into the hallway. “CADERA! Just you wait till I get my HANDS ON YOU–!”

Fynta, Ahuska and Noara all stared at each other silently for a moment.

And then with a scrambling fit of newfound energy, the three of them darted through the still open doorway, across the hall and into the other room, where a few seconds of confused silence gave way into a rolling, wheezing cackle of boisterous laughter.

“Fynta is that his underwear?”

“Every… every single damned piece by the look of it!”

“Oh, kriffing kad. It’s all frozen solid.”

“That’s the biggest block of ice I’ve ever seen, and I’ve been to Hoth.”

“They really froze all of Jorgan’s underwear into an ice block.”

“What d’you mean they? Crow was with us! All night!”

“Listen he’s going to be raging about this at least until the evening, but… I mean look at it. It’s beautiful. I wish I’d seen his face coming out of the shower and going to get his clean clothes.”

“Do I at least get to see the handiwork?” Crow’s voice piped out across the hall.

And the laughter began afresh as the trio dragged the giant slab of ice across the hall. Crow was wiping tears from his eyes as he stared at the block, an almost perfect cube, knee-high, steaming gently where the warm red-gold Nar Shaddaa light hit it. Like graceful Mon Calamari ballet dancers, fabric swirls in sombre, dark, regulation colours filled the block with a fascinating collection of shapes and shadows. “You’re right. It’s beautiful. I almost wish I could take full credit for it.”

“Is… Torian going to be okay?” Ahuska glanced carefully toward the others.

“Oh, he left early to visit his vode, I was going to meet them for lunch. He’d be four districts over by now. ”

Ahuska always found it quite sweet when Noara tried to use a little Mando’a, but her gaze slide back toward Crow. “And yet somehow you knew tonight would be the night to keep yourself thoroughly supervised.”

“Yeah, well,” Crow shrugged, biting back his grin but absolutely unable to hide just how pleased he was with the results slowly melting on the hotel room floor. “Torian and I might’ve been swapping stories the other night, I might’ve been telling him a few of the pranks my unit pulled back when I was a regular pub army grunt. And when he showed up in the room yesterday afternoon with a brand new mini chest freezer…” Crow shrugged again, flashing them all a dazzling smile. Residual glitter sparkled across his cheeks. “I figured it was gonna be a good night to make myself completely accounted for. Worked, didn’t it?”

The dim roar of a raging cathar drifted up from one of the hotel’s lower floors.

Fynta smothered her smile with her hands. “Worked a treat.”

#dingoat writes #dingoat writes... WAY TOO MUCH XD #writing prompts #can't even remember what prompt list this came from hahaha #but I had fun with it #even if it went off in every direction #I guess this is Jedi Sitters crew?#Maybe?#anyway I hope I didn't mangle anyone else's characters too terribly #ahuska #crow #fynta #noara #other people's ocs #swtor fic

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someoneimsure · 2 years

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The Joker needs to die. Period. It needs to be a whole thing: the Joker’s public execution, his body is cremated, and there’s no chance of him coming back to life.

And then Batman finds evidence that another Joker pops up.

Batman double checks all the evidence to figure out how the Joker managed to escape. He checks the cameras, he checks the ashes, he checks everything, but there is no evidence to suggest they were tampered with.

But there’s another Joker, Batman is sure of it.

As first the family thinks he’s gone mad. The Joker’s dead, right? There is no second Joker. Red Hood and Batgirl had helped out when those two died and can confirm. None of The Joker’s experiments succeeded in creating a fourth Joker, so it can’t be that... right?

Batman’s paranoia is starting to infect the rest of the family though. Dick is the only one convinced that the Joker is well and truly dead, but Tim and Jason just aren’t so sure. They’re spending day and night looking for evidence to support Batman’s belief but they cannot find it. Eventually, even they start questioning Bruce’s sanity.

Until someone else confesses that they’ve seen the Joker as well. It’s leaked into the media. It’s infecting public consciousness. The Joker is back. The Joker is alive. The Joker cannot be killed.

And then he appears. The Joker. Back in his full glory and ready to cause chaos in Gotham. It’s him. Bruce knows it in his gut. Jason knows it. Tim confirms it. Dick is furious. They take him down with precision. The whole family, together.

He is put away to prison, sent immediately to court, and the court refuses to find a distinction between this Joker and the one who might have died on the chair. This new second Joker is given the same treatment, almost at lightspeed. Electric chair, cremation, gone. The government is desperate to put the minds of the public at ease.

Too little, too late.

Because it’s in the public consciousness now, the doubt over his death. Killing him again doesn’t make it go away. Everyone will always be on their tiptoes, waiting for the old Joker to make his appearance.

But Batman’s DNA test confirms it was someone else. Someone with a different base DNA but the same horrific accident happened to them. A new Joker, but one as bad as the last.

And Gotham is forced to ask a question. Who created the Jokers? Batman or something else? It haunts public consciousness. It makes them question the justice system because the court considered the two Jokers the same person. Had they killed an innocent man? What atrocities can people be certain this new Joker committed outside of his technically first public appearance? Why was Batman too late to stop them?

Because the truth is The Joker has had plenty of time to perfect his real last laugh. The Three Jokers were his experiments perfected. They just didn’t know it yet.

Even now, he has dominoes set in motion that will ensure Gotham will never be without another Joker -- has already ensured that The Joker never dies in public consciousness ever again. The Joker lives on as an idea, as a bogeyman, as a permanent black mark on the history of Gotham. The real one may even be out there, laughing at it all because he made his point.

Anyone could become The Joker.

#so i read Three Joker's #this is probably very rough #but i had fun with it #ideas #my fic #im gonna call this fic #The Joker's Final Laugh #anyway i felt that the Three Jokers should have been much longer and dealing more heavily with this very concept #instead of just being used to justify past jokers #i was also inspired by the Killing Joke #oh maybe I should have called this fic #The Joker's Final Joke #idk #The Joker #batman #Gotham City #my post #DC Prompt

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