AndyC

Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game]

Interlude/Cut Track- The Travel Sequence

---

"Struggling desperately to get the situation back under con--"

"--dozens of officers wounded, and while there is no word yet on any actual deaths, we must assume--"

"--crashed into a high-rise office building. GCPD officers arrived on the scene shortly after, but--"

"--still at large, and should be considered armed and extremely dangerous. Gotham citizens are urged to--"

"--concern that other dangerous super-criminals may have escaped during the mayhem. When asked, Commissioner Gordon--"

"--response from the Batman or the city's other masked vigilantes, raising questions about their own motives in--"

---

"If there's one thing I really can't stands," said the deep, grizzled voice with a century old brassy old Gotham accent, "It's a rat. A stoolie. And youse mooks, you're the biggest friggin' stoolies I ever seen."

"Th-that wasn't us, boss!" Vinny sputtered, begging on his knees. "We never ratted you out!"

"Y-y-yeah, boss! That was Louie T! He rolled on us so's he could sign on with Penguin! Honest!" Donny Two-Shirts pleaded next to him, his eyes fixed on the barrel of the gun pointed at him.

"Louie T's runnin' for the Penguin now, huh?" the voice asked. "Funny thing; he told me same thing about youse two before I greased him. Now I don't know who's lyin' an' who ain't. Helluva situation, ain't it?"

Before they could respond, the room rang with the sound of automatic gunfire.

RATTTATATTTATTATTATTATTATTAT!

The air hung heavy with the smell of gunsmoke and freshly spilled blood. Trying to shake off the ringing in his ears, the frail, sad-faced man shook his head.

_{"You know, B-B-Boss,"} Arnold Wesker muttered, _{"they may have been t-t-telling the truth. P-P-Penguin may have been p-playing them ag-g-gainst each other t-t-to--"}

"SHADDAP, YA MUG," the brassy voice barked as the mouth on the wooden dummy of Scarface flapped open and closed. "I ain't payin' youse ta think."

_{"Y-y-yes, Boss,"} the Ventriloquist cowered, _{"Anything you s-s-say, Boss."}

"That's more like it," came the response. "Now, I'm thinkin' we need ta pay Mr. Cobblepot a visit an' teach him a thing or two about--"

"'Scuse me," came another voice, with a similar old-timey goon's accent. Wesker turned, bringing his submachine guns to bear. "Mister Scarface?"

The Ventriloquist stared for a moment, his fingers tight on the triggers. "Who's askin'?"

"I, uh, I come lookin' for ya, on orders of my boss," the thug stated, producing a letter from the inside of his jacket. "He's got an invitation for, uhh, for the both of youse..."

---

"--said FREEZE, you freak!" the officer shouted, his pistol visibly shaking in his trembling hands.

"Freeze? Laughed Dr. Alex Sartorious as a fluorescent green light enveloped the surrounding area. "You're joking, right?"

The kick from the pistol nearly caused it to fly out of the officer's hands, but the bullet itself was reduced to dust long before it could reach its target.

"In case you haven't noticed," he said as he stepped forward, the light searing the policeman's eyes, "The very last thing I could possibly do...is freeze."

Doctor Phosphorus, the irradiated madman, pulsed a flash of light, and when it subsided, all that remained of the officer was a silhouette burned into the wall behind him, a phenomenon morbidly referred to as a 'Hiroshima shadow.'

"Got to keep moving," Alex muttered to himself as other sirens approached. "Burn myself out at this rate. Must find somewhere. Lay low."

While it was true that the police couldn't hurt him, he only had a limited amount of reaction mass that he could expend. If he exerted himself too much, the constant nuclear fusion contained in his body would start to consume him whole.

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZYYYEEEEEEOOWWWWWWWWWWWW

Above him, a small electric engine whirred. Looking up, Dr. Phosphorous saw what looked like a small toy airplane, making a beeline right for him.

With a casual, almost contemptuous wave of his hand, Phosphorous let fly with another burst of irradiated plasma, sending the toy plane crashing to the ground at his feet. Curiously, tucked under the plane's fuselage was a small block of lead. Upon closer inspection, he saw that the lead block had writing on it.

A note, then. Specifically, one that he could pick up without burning it. Intrigued, he read its contents.

DOC PHOSPHOROUS

THROWING A PARTY

INTERESTED IN A LIGHT SHOW

RSVP AT THIS ADDRESS

Beneath that was an address and a set of map coordinates.

The sirens began growing louder as armored trucks approached. Glancing back and forth between the approaching police and the note, Phosphorous quickly memorized the coordinates, then melted the lead block so they wouldn't find his new destination.

---

SKRREEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!

The stereotype of Gotham being a city of darkness and shadows is only partially true. While some of the seedier neighborhoods have their own tangled labyrinths of alleyways and backlots practically submerged in ink-black shadow, other districts are lit up brighter than mid-day even in the small hours of the morning. Street lights, traffic lights, neon and LED signboards, a million internal lights along block after block of cramped commercial, residential, and industrial zones flooded the area with electric illumination. On any given night in Gotham, the total light pollution reflected off of the curtain of smog and smothered the night sky, the moon and stars obscured by a dim wash that gave the sky its infamous reddish hue.

Because of this, rather than skulking about along the ground, the easiest place to move unnoticed at night was in the skies.

SKRREEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!

Even after letting out another ear-splitting shriek, the figure slipped unseen between two GCPD helicopters, banking to the left to avoid the beams of their searchlights and wheeling in a wide arc over the skyline of Miagami Island. Gliding on huge leathery wings, it only needed the occasional powerful flap to stay airborne, scanning the steel and concrete jungle below for an ideal perch. Finding the tall, sharp spire of an old church bell tower, the figure swooped down, landing on one of the gargoyles.

On most nights, Doctor Kirk Langstrom fought against the beast inside of him, one that was far more literal than metaphorical. The doctors at Arkham were often worse than worthless, their meager understanding of his altered physiology leading to them administering treatments that frequently did more harm than good. Kirk needed to be free of their meddling to better research what he had become. When the opportunity presented itself, he did not fight against the beast's attempts to break loose.

Tonight, Dr. Langstrom was in remission.

Tonight, the Man-Bat was on the hunt.

SKRREEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!

The monster's hyper-sonic shriek was more than just a terrifying cry across the city; using his superhuman sense of hearing, the Man-Bat's echolocation gave him a detailed map of his surroundings, allowing him to sense potential threats before they could approach him, and potential prey before it could escape.

Several stories below, a drunken old man stumbled out the back of a bar, spitting a curse at the bouncer who had shoved him out the door. He was isolated, disoriented, and weak.

Easy meat.

The Man-Bat spread its wings...

EEEE-EEEE-EEEEE-EEEE-EEEE

....another signal? Perhaps, another of its kind?

Curious, the Man-Bat launched itself from its perch, away from its intended target and toward the source of the mysterious signal.

---

"Tremble in fear, Gotham!" the costumed lunatic bellowed at the front of the burger shop where he had 'reloaded' his weapons. "For now the CONDIMENT KING shall reign supreme over--"

A wadded-up paper burger wrapper bounced off of the would-be villain's head.

"Get stuffed, will ya?" a random Gothamite heckled. "We've got enough to worry about with real bad guys on the loose!"

"B-but....my Ketchup Blasters, my Mustard Mortars, they'll"

"What are you gonna do, stain my blouse?" a woman jeered. "Get lost, ya creep!"

"...n-no, I can--...just you wait, I'll--"

"BOOOOOO!" Someone else shouted over him. "Get outta here, LOSER!"

Dejected and deflated, the Condiment King sighed, barely noticing the garbage that pelted him from all sides as he hung his head and left the burger joint.

Skulking away into one of the back alleys, he saw a body crumpled up on the ground behind the burger joint's dumpster.

Above the body, scrawled along the wall, was a message.

CONDIMENT KING

HAVING A GET-TOGETHER

WAS HOPING YOU COULD PROVIDE SOME REFRESHMENTS

TIME FOR YOU TO HIT THE BIG LEAGUES

MEET US AT THIS ADDRESS

Beneath that was an address and a set of coordinates, followed by a post-script:

P.S.: THIS ISN'T KETCHUP

His sadness melting into giddy delirium, the Condiment King let out a triumphant, squealing laugh, firing his ketchup-and-mustard guns into the air in celebration. Remembering to erase the address with a squirt of highly-corrosive hot-sauce that melted the brickwork, he scampered off into the alley, elated that someone had finally noticed him.

---

"He's survived the crash, just as expected. Now I believe, he's recruiting."

"Should we be concerned, my lady?"

"Hardly; this means he'll be surrounded by people who will be all too happy to turn on him when the time comes. He's losing his touch, and it's time the rest of Gotham sees it."

"Then I assume we proceed with the next phase?"

"Not just yet. Next, we do a bit of shopping of our own..."

Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game]

Going to have to come up with a totally new plot and arc for Thor at some point. If anyone wants in on this I guess just let me know.

@Dead Cruiser

Flash's dance card is currently empty if you wanna do some shenanigans.

Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game]

ON THE RUN

---

Baggage, your passports ready,
And follow the green line to customs and then to immigration
BA two-one-five to Rome, Prado, Naples...

May I have your attention, please,
Customs will be receiving passengers
For BA two-one-five to Rome, Prado, Naples

Live for today,

...gone tomorrow,

....that's me!

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA--

---

"Don't let them get too--"

"--the SLIGHTEST IDEA what I'm going to--"

"--against the wall, NOW! I swear to God, I'll shoot--"

"--filled with beautiful lights! Don't you see, I can--"

"--backup! I repeat, we need--"

"--DIG OUT YOUR EYES AND SHIT IN YOUR--"

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

"God, I love it when a plan falls apart," the Joker mused to himself as he adjusted the fit of his jacket-- a little tight in the shoulders these days, "even when that plan's my own."

Stepping out from the washroom into the halls of general population, the air rang with the sounds of glorious chaos. Primal screams, threats and challenges, the sound of fists smacking against faces. The rattling of teeth as they scattered across bare concrete. Shrieks of pain and horror. The deafening roar of gunfire, some bullets made of rubber, others most definitely not.

Normally, the Joker would relish in this, drink in the mayhem the way other connoisseurs might take in a fine wine or the strains of Mozart. However, today he really did have to get going.

Someone had been picking off members of his old gang, including some of his very favorite henchmen over the years. And that someone needed to be taught a lesson: no one, no one, plays with the Joker's toys. And that was a lesson he wouldn't be able to teach until he got off of the island and back out into the big wide world.

"--around the corner, think that was the Joker! We can't let him--"

"Oop, gotta go!" the Clown Prince said to himself, breaking out into a sprint as the tromp of heavy boots approached. "Can't stand around daydreaming all day!"

"--ohshitthat'shim, hey, HEY! FREEZE!"

RATTATTTATTATTATTATTA--

Fire from a guard's submachine gun kicked up sprays of concrete and tile shards, bullets whizzing past the thin white madman as he made a beeline for a crush of bodies in front of him, inmates and guards already engaged in a violent melee.

"Hot stuff, comin' through, scuze me, outtatheway!" he shouted into the din, elbowing his way past a few, wriggling like a snake between others, and trampling over those already on the floor. Stars and colors exploded in his vision as a stray fist caught his nose, causing his eyes to water and his head to swim for a moment. When he regained his senses, a big guy with bible verses tattooed across his face was holding a knife to his throat.

"After all my sins," the big man muttered to himself, "God delivers unto me a demon to slay."

"I-- *ngh!*--don't know about all that," said the Joker as he strained to get one hand into the breast of his jacket. "I've always been told it's in bad taste to make jokes about God and religion. But hey, it's always been a blasphemy!"

"....what's that supposed to mean?"

The clown rolled his eyes. "Blasphemy, but it sounds like 'it's been a blast for--' you know what? Never mind, I've got to get going."

With one hand in his jacket, the Joker squeezed the small rubber pump sewn into the inside, connected to the flower in his lapel. A fluorescent green fluid sprayed out, catching the big man in the eyes. A split second later, the hiss of acid burns was followed by blood-curdling screams, and the Joker casually freed himself of the big man's grip, relieving him of his knife.

"I really need to work on my puns," he muttered to himself, carving his way through the rest of the melee as the guard with the submachine gun let out another burst.

Ducking and winding his way through the building, he began making his way down and to the southeastern end of the island, where the helipad was sure to be receiving backup from the GCPD's SWAT teams any second. Sure enough, the heavy rhythmic pulse of helicopter blades from up above confirmed his suspicions, and he grinned.

---

"He's making for the helicopter. Good, that's just what we had in mind. Unlock the southeastern gate, but keep all the doors in that wing sealed. The GCPD will have to take their time breaching each one, and he'll slip right through in the air vents."

"...wait....you want him to escape? I thought you wanted him dead."

"Are you questioning me?"

"O-o-of course not, my Lady! I j-j-just--"

"Believe me, I absolutely want him dead. More than anyone else in the world. But he can't die yet. First, he has to suffer. And he has to know why..."

---

"Beg your pardon," the Joker shouted over the roar of the helicopter blades as he climbed into the cabin, "But do you know if this one's headed to Sheboygan?"

The pilot turned in alarm, but before he could draw his pistol or radio for help, the Joker lunged forward, plunging the knife he had acquired earlier into the side of the pilot's neck. Dragging the dying man out of his seat, the clown sat down at the controls.

"Let's see, let's see," he muttered to himself, "rudder, pitch, throttle, seat warmer--hey, do you know how to play some tunes on this thing?"

The pilot let out a bloody gurgle as his body convulsed for a final time.

"Ahhh, I'm sure I'll figure it out," he said with a chuckle before opening up the throttle, "and awayyy we go!"

The helicopter rose high into the air, leaving Arkham Asylum behind, and leaving the GCPD officers stranded in the madhouse.

"AAAAAHAHAHAHAHA, OOOHOHOHOHOOOO!" the Joker laughed to himself triumphantly, now truly free and clear. "Ohhhh, that was too easy!"

"Indeed it was," a voice crackled over the chopper's radio. "Far too easy. I facilitated nearly every step of your escape. Diverted guards from your location, kept the more dangerous inmates busy, even made sure this helicopter would be there to whisk you away to freedom. You're very welcome for that, by the way."

"Oh?" the madman asked with a raised eyebrow. "And who might you be, that you're so willing to help out a poor old clown down on his luck?"

"All in good time," the voice answered, "But for now...you can refer to me as 'Lady Arkham.'"

The Joker stifled a laugh. "That's a bit of a presumptuous name, don't ya think?"

"Oh, trust me, no one's more deserving of the title. I know the asylum inside and out, better than anyone. Even you."

"I wouldn't bet on that, sweetie," the Joker bristled at the newcomer's boast. "I've spent more time in that place than anyone."

"More than almost anyone, Joker," the voice responded. "But I'd rather not tip my hand just yet. You've still got quite a bit of game to play if you want to know who I am, why I helped you escape....and why I've been killing your henchmen."

The Joker's hackles raised. "I don't know or particularly care who you are, honey. But since you seem to be new to the Gotham City super-criminal scene, let me give you a free fact about me. I don't play other people's games. I have something of a thing when it comes to people expecting me to play by the rules. You'd know that about if you spent a fraction of the time in the looney-bin that you claim, 'Lady Arkham.'"

"Oh, I do know that," the voice said, a sinister edge growing in its tone. "I also know that you have a 'cousin' named Melvin, who works at a tuna canning plant in Maine, to whom you send $5,000 every month despite having never contacted him. I know that you only have seven of your original teeth left, due to multiple violent encounters with the Batman and his associates. I know that you talk in your sleep, and often mutter about a woman named Jeannie."

The Joker's smile was gone now, his lip curled into a scowl.

"And I know that, somehow, despite all logic and reason, you're going to find a way to survive this crash."

"Crash?" he asked. ".....what c--"

*KRSSSHHHHHH!*

With a shower of sparks and a groan of twisting metal, a small explosive detonated in the helicopter's tail rudder, sending the aircraft spiraling out of control.

"Heh," the Joker chuckled to himself as he struggled in vain to control the chopper, "I just had to ask, didn't I?"

Warning alarms and klaxons blared as the helicopter careened towards the Gotham city skyline.

His head swam, his stomach lurched into his throat....

....and just before he closed his eyes, he saw the shape of a skyscraper filling his vision.

"This," he muttered, "is really gonna hurt...."

Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game]

A short Flash post, trying to get Barry open to do a bit of roaming and interacting with other folks.

Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game]

S.T.A.R. Labs
Central City Branch

"Nothing? Really?" I ask with frustration as Dr. Wells and his team go over their results, having thoroughly scanned Mercury Square after the Rogues' attack.

"Nothing yet, Flash," Dr. Harrison Wells, the founder of S.T.A.R. Labs and director of the Central City campus, corrects me. "We're just as concerned about this as you are, but the attack went over a fairly wide area, and going over it all is going to take time. It may not be your style, but you're going to have to--"

"--take it slow, right, right," I say, chafing at the words. "It's just...there's really no trace of them left? Nothing to go on? Not even a sliver?"

"We're working on it, red," Cisco Ramon answers from his desk, an edge of annoyance in his voice. "There's, like, a billion different things they could've done here."

"We have some working theories on how the Rogues pulled off the attack," Caitlin Snow reassures me as she reads data from her tablet. "Right now we're running simulations to see if any of our theoretical models line up with the data we've got on hand."

"Right, I gotcha," I nod, pacing back and forth with frustration.

Logically, I know they're basically doing the same thing I do at the CCPD. Forensics isn't a clear-cut field with easy answers, and you have to take your time slowly but surely sifting through bad data before you can reach a conclusion. Eddie Thorne gives me all kinds of hell for taking my time going over crime scene data, but it's always better to be slow and right than fast and wrong.

Barry Allen knows this, of course. The Flash, on the other hand, is supposed to be able to act faster than anyone alive. And until we have a lead to go on, there's nothing to do but wait.

"Any way I can make myself useful?" I ask, hoping there's something I can do to speed things up.

"At the moment, I think we're doing about all that can be done," Dr. Wells answers, "at least, until we have more data to work with."

"Of course, 'more data' means 'another Rogue attack,'" Caitlin chimes in, removing the sugar-coating that the doctor had put on his statement.

"Well, yes," he admits, "but hopefully we'll be able to crack it before then. Until then, I suggest you take the advice you gave your protégé: lay low for a while, don't make yourself a target. And if they do launch another attack, don't engage it."

"Makes sense," I agree, "I'm not exactly up for hanging around to get my butt handed to me a second time. On the other hand, I can't exactly stay put if there are people who need my help."

"What about the League?" Cisco asks. "I mean, I know you cape-and-tights types are all weird about territory, but I can't imagine the Rogues can keep up an attack if, say, Superman or Wonder Woman shows up to break you out."

"Maybe," I consider it, "I do need to let them know what's up. If I have to go help out with a League-level emergency, and then suddenly we have to deal with cold rays and boomerangs on top of whatever's going on, they'll need to know--"

ZZZZZZNNNNNNNGGGG!

As if on cue, a razor-edged boomerang emerges from thin air, inches away from my face.

"EVERYBODYGETDOWN!" I shout, sidestepping the weapon.

As Cisco and Caitlin hit the floor, the boomerang slices into a computer bank, sparks and smoke spraying from the now ruined machinery.

FWWOOOOOOOOOSSSSSHHHH!!!!!

A jet of Heatwave's plasma erupts from the floor beneath a server rack, incinerating it.

"The data!" Dr. Wells exclaims. "They're destroying all of our--"

KRA-KOOOOOOOMMMM!!!!!!

A bolt of Weather Wizard's lightning dances throughout S.T.A.R. Labs' mainframe, frying row after row of equipment.

Alarms sound throughout the facility, but after I take a few seconds to get everyone a safe distance from the building, there's no one left inside.

Dr. Wells, Cisco, Caitlin, and I look down from a hillside about half a mile from the campus, looking at the smoke billowing from the main building.

"Holy crap," Cisco mutters, "They just wrecked everything..."

"It's going to take weeks to replace all of that equipment," Dr. Wells groans, "But the data, that's..."

"That's gone for good now," Caitlin laments. "Any evidence our sensors picked up, the Rogues just wiped it out."

"...so now we're not even at square one," I say. "We've got no leads, and nothing to chase leads with."

Dr. Wells nods.

"...well, while we get this under control," he says, "it might be best if you don't stay in one location for long. However they're doing this, it's doubtful they can continue to follow you if you keep moving. Until we get a handle on this, I'd advise staying far from Central City."

"I can't just--"

BOOOOOM!!!

An explosion from inside the empty S.T.A.R. Labs building interrupts me, and along the hillside, I hear the other employees scream in startled fear.

Maybe the Doc's right. If I stick to my familiar stomping grounds, Snart and his crew know where to find me, and I'll be putting more people at risk.

With a tinge of regret, I nod.

"Okay," I decide. "Maybe a road trip will do me some good. If there's trouble back home I can't guarantee I'll stay away, but until then, I'll keep some distance."

Overhead, a CCPN news helicopter flies towards the scene of the explosion. Knowing her, there's a pretty good chance that Iris is on that chopper.

Iris...

"I'll, uh, I'll need to say some goodbyes before I go," I say, more to myself than anyone.

"Better make them quick," Caitlin remarks, which gets a chuckle out of me.

"Hah! Remember who you're talking to, Cate. Quick is what I'm all about."

Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game]

Just a note for everyone, particularly @AndyC who's waiting on me: I recently started work at a new job and its absolutely goddamn killing me. Been passing out after every single shift so far, and I've had zero time to crack down and write posts for anything. Going to attempt to put something together on my days off, but uhhh my response time has dropped drastically. Sorry!

@Cybermaxx

S'allright, life happens.

Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game]

I will never un-see Batman teabagging us now.

Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game]

For those of y'all in the Gotham area....

Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game]

BREATHE

---

Breathe...

...breathe in the air...

...don't be afraid to care...

Leave...

...but don't leave me...

Look around...

...and choose your own ground...

For long you live...

...and high you fly...

...the smiles you'll give...

...and tears you'll cry...

...all you touch...

...and all you see...

...is all your life will ever be...

---

"Ahhhh," The Joker let out a long, satisfied sigh, stretching as he stepped out into the main corridor of the super-max wing of Arkham Asylum, "that first breath of fresh air after being cooped up for so long really is the best, don't you agree?"

_{"I'm gonna fucking kill you, clown."}

"What's that?"

"....nothing."

The Joker rolled his eyes. "Oh, loosen up, will you? We won't be spending much time together, so let's try to enjoy it while it lasts."

Captain Mia Jackson was a ten-year veteran in the super-max wing, and took great pride in her job. She'd seen her way through the some of the most horrific incidents the hospital had ever seen-- the breakouts, the riots, the madness, time and time again. Some people lost their nerve over time, let this place get to them. Mia, though, only grew sharper every time. Nothing could get to her.

Or so she'd thought.

She followed two steps behind the Joker, trembling with impotent rage as he took his sweet time strolling through the open. There were hundreds of sets of eyes on him, both real and electronic, and this wing of Arkham was equipped with at least a dozen different security systems-- both lethal and less-than-- which would render the clown helpless with the press of a button. A button that, sadly, wasn't going to be pressed.

Mia didn't know how he had found out about her daughters. She didn't know what he was going to do to them if she didn't comply. But she knew exactly what she was going to do to him the second this was over.

"You know, I was really hoping some more of the usual suspects would be here today," he remarked, his insufferable yellow-toothed smile tinged with a hint of sadness. "No Harvey today, no Eddie, no Cobblepot. I do love rubbing it in their faces whenever I get out before them. Hope you don't mind me saying, Cap'n, but the security in this place is lousy, lousy looowwww-zeeeee!"

Jackson gripped her pistol, but controlled herself. If she let her temper get to her, Kylie and Maddie would suffer for it. All she had to do was put up with this creep long enough to get to the end of the hallway.

"Ahem," a thin, quavery voice piped up from behind several layers of bulletproof glass, "I hope you didn't mean to overlook me, as I'm still very much here."

The Joker's eyes lit up.

"Johnny!" he exclaimed. "Good old Doctor Johnny Crane, my second-favorite former psychiatrist! How've ya been? Loved your work on the children's hospital last year, by the way."

"Oh, that was...quite a lovely evening," Dr. Jonathan Crane mused to himself, a grin crawling across his face as he stared off into the distance. "Shame it was cut so short, but I suppose one must expect such complications when the Bat-Man is about."

"Ohhh-hohohooo, don't even get me started," the clown chuckled as he leaned against the glass of Crane's cell. "If you're looking to swap bat stories, I've got a million of 'em."

"Hey, wait, no," Mia asserted herself into the conversation, "Nothing in your deal ever said anything about springing the Scarecrow!"

"Oh, I was just talking shop with a fellow artiste," Joker put his hands up innocently. "Buuuut since you suggested it...."

Crane put up a hand to signal a stop in that line of thinking.

"I appreciate the offer," he said, "But I'm afraid I have to decline. I have ideas of my own."

"Suit yourself," the clown shrugged. "I'll be out and about for a while, but do keep in touch. I'm looking forward to seeing what you've got in mind."

"You really don't want to know I've got in my mind, Joker."

"HA! I'll bet," he laughed, then continued to stroll, glancing back at Captain Jackson over his shoulder. "You know, I don't think Scarecrow gets enough appreciation these days. Poor guy always gets lost in the shuffle. I suppose I'm partially to blame, since I've already cornered the market on 'skinny pale guy with gimmicky poison gas.' But it's more than that, it's--ah! Here we are!"

Joker and Mia stopped at one of the junctions between cell blocks, where a pair of metal panels had been bent slightly. Given how much damage this building had taken over the years, some bent sheet metal was so low on the staff's priorities that it barely registered.

"What the hell are you doing, Joker?" Mia asked as she gripped her pistol even tighter, fighting every urge to draw on the monster in front of her and empty the clip as he pried back the thin sheet metal.

"Just picking up a party favor," he answered, rooting around a knot of wires. "When you've been in the game as long as I have, you tend to pick up knick-knacks from all sorts of people. In here, I've got a little gizmo from the Calculator, to shut down any security features in the Asylum that I want without setting off any of the alarms. Can't hack into the systems remotely, since they're on a closed server. Has to be hard-wired into the system itself. Calculator's a real poindexter, but he knows his stuff, I'll give him that."

"How long have you had that thing here without us knowing?"

"This one?" he replied as he dug deeper into the wiring. "I'd say about, oh, three years or so."

"What do you mean 'that one'?" she demanded. "You mean you've got more than one--"

"Oh I've got more than twenty of them," he laughed. "I've got little stashes like this all over the asylum. Makes it so much easier to slip about."

Mia stared at him in disbelief as she heard a hard click from inside the wall. The Joker, now shoulder-deep into the electricals, smiled wide.

"There we go!" he beamed, satisfied with himself. "Just need about ten more seconds and we'll have the whole place to ours--"

"F-f-freeze!"

_{"Of course...."}

Mia wheeled around to see a fresh-faced young man, pistol drawn, a confused and terrified look on his face.

"Clancy, right?" Mia asked carefully, trying to keep one eye on the murderous clown while she talked down one of her fellow guards. "You're new here. This...this isn't what it looks like."

"Are you kidding? Th--that's....that's the Joker!" he stammered. "Wh-why are you--"

"It's...complicated," she answered, her face burning with anger and shame.

"I--....I'm afraid I've g-g-gotta call this in," Clancy sputtered, reaching for the walkie-talkie. "All units, c-c-code red! I repeat, CODE RED! This is not a--"

*BLAM!*

The right side of Clancy's face burst open, a spray of blood and gray matter spattering the wall and floor as he fell backwards.

Captain Mia Jackson stared in horror at her pistol, its barrel smoking in her trembling hands.

Seconds later, sirens began to blare, emergency lights flashing as the alert went out throughout the asylum.

Neither of them moved. Mia couldn't bring herself to run from what she'd done. And the Joker was in no hurry now.

"Yow-wee, what a shot!" the clown congratulated her. "Remind me not to be on the business end of that thing any time soon, ha-ha!"

"Clancy....he was brand new...." Mia looked back and forth between the new guard's corpse and the gun in her hand. "Just transferred to Arkham a week ago....from Belle Reve. He was...he was still trying to make friends....brought everyone cupcakes on his first day."

"Sounds like a nice guy," the Joker said to himself. "At least it was over quick, right? Never knew what hit him. Didn't linger, didn't suffer, just bang, lights out, that's it."

Mia nodded numbly.

"At least, that's what everyone says," he continued, "but I wonder. I mean, most of his brain is still intact. Unless you manage to vaporize someone completely, I doubt the whole thing just shuts off the instant the gray matter becomes a gray splatter. Those last few neurons, how long do they stay on before fading to black?"

As if on cue, Clancy's body spasmed in a final reflex.

"See what I mean?" Joker gestured with his free hand, "Bits and pieces of his nervous system are still crying out, wondering what the hell just happened and where the rest of him went off to! Sure, maybe the higher functions of data processing and decision making that we think of as our 'mind' is the first thing to go, but those reflexes, those instincts, those little pockets of memory and emotion. They have that extra little moment of confusion, terror, and pain."

A wave of nausea washed over Mia, and she dropped to her knees.

"Of course, that 'extra little moment' is only 'little' to us," the clown kept going. "They say your perception of time slows down as you lose consciousness. So while it may have only been a split-second in real time, those last little bits of Clancy there probably felt that panic and agony for, who knows? Minutes, hours, days, maybe? He's long gone now in real time, but as far as we know, that final horror could have stretched out into eternity for him."

Mia's gun clattered on the ground at her side.

The tromp of boots signaled the coming of more heavily-armed guards.

In response, the whirring of electric motors and hiss of pneumatic pistons told the tale of dozens of cell doors opening, all over the asylum.

"It's pretty awful, when you think about it," he said, more to himself than to the captain, who didn't even notice as he picked the pistol up and pulled back the hammer.

Around them, Arkham Asylum erupted into a war zone.

"Which is why I usually don't think about it at all."

*BLAM!*

---

Run....

...rabbit...

...run...

Dig that hole...

...forget the sun...

And when, at last...

...the work...

...is done...

Don't sit down...

....it's time to dig...

...another one...

For long you live...

...and high you fly...

...but only if you ride the tide...

And balanced on...

...the biggest wave...

...you race towards an early grave.

---

Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game]

@TGM if Damian ever runs into Scarecrow, this is what he needs to see when he gets sprayed with Fear Gas.