#you stole enough money from ppl
Text
Pretty gifts
Joker X GN!Reader
TW/CW: reader is androgynous, murders, talking about kys, work in catering (it needs its own warning), reader curses a lot, mention of vomit, stalker, reader throws up, racism, Gotham is hell and fuck capitalism, blood, violence
tbh i'm a little sad bc nobody ever give their opinion on my works. I put another divider (like the red heart below) in the middle of the story, not really to separate as it's following directly but bc some people find my stories too long so it's like a checkpoint. So when you leave, you know where you were. (It's really long)
also the end is a little weird bc I have no idea if this fandom is still alive so, yeah :) if people are reading, I might continue it. Thing is some ppl find this Joker ugly so...
I hope you'll enjoy this. (19/02/2024) (17k)
You weren't weird by any mean, okay ? Life in Gotham is just really hard. You got harassed, robbed and assaulted more times than you can count. And each time by a new profile type ! Old, young or teen, it doesn't matter, everyone is desperate.
Some of your colleagues at work are prostituting themselves and you for sure considerate selling feet pictures.
That's how life is in Gotham.
But weird ? You stare at the angry man before you, unimpressed. You can't believe he called you weird as well as an incestuous result. You're neither of these. Fuck, how is weird and incestuous his first thought when insulting someone ? Like, he could've called you a fucker, a bitch... Anything !
Your aggressor, if you can even call him that after this, shows you his middle finger while walking background. Quickly though, he loses his balance and fall on the ground. Well, at least he didn't beat you up !
You already got assaulted for your money, which you don't even have, you got two jobs and barely reach the minimal wage. But at the end of the day they, well, stole the few you have, you know ? When you think about it, he strongly smelled like alcohol. That's probably why he failed his attempt.
Even stealing is death here. You never know who you're facing. Hell, just yesterday a guy was killed because he tried to assault some big chief of a mob. Someone with a clown face. TV says the man's limbs were still not all found.
Shit, getting killed by a clown must be mad humiliating too.
You sigh, trying to ease your tired traits by passing your hand on your face. At least the day is over, right ? Another day closer to death. You drag your suddenly much more heavier body on some few meters/yards more, silently praying that no one else will bother you.
Thankfully, your cries were heard. Pushing the old creaking door of the building, you rush to the mailbox. Never have you been comfortable staying long here. The door is only behind you and you don't know if someone is able to enter with bad intention.
Speaking of the devil...
No mail except for this weird card yet again. It's cardboard displaying a drawing of a joker, withdrawn from a poker package. It's certainly not the first time someone pull this kind of joke on you. Though, you have no idea who this is and it creeps you out a little. You turn the card to see if a message was left and sadly, (or not) you were right.
You've been trying to understand who this was for a long time now but in a big city like yours, with god knows who or what ? It's just impossible.
As always, you hate to think this because you don't want this creepy card to become part of your habit, a messy handwriting greets you in black ink.
"I'm everywhere in this city, no one can touch me yet some are fond of me."
You stopped school kind of early so your IQ is probably not high enough for you to understand that. Plus, you don't fucking want to.
You grab the card with you in order to throw it once at home and rush to the stairs (some says someone got killed in the elevator plus it's not working since months so you're not taking it anymore). Finally home. Your hallway still smells like piss and a deadly cold reign here (Nobody knows why). Two of the four bulb of the ceiling has burnt out and a faint static noise is resonating in the whole property.
This building is not even in a neighborhood that bad. But in Gotham, not that bad is still bad. Because bad is sleeping to the sound of gunshot and broken windows. While here, there's still these but not as often as in bad neighborhood. But you can add the moans hearable in the night in it as well.
Your building is really old though, which explains (partially) the bad state it's in.
Taking out the key off your pocket, you start to unlock the door. Unconsciously, your mind goes back to the card of the day. "I'm everywhere"... What's everywhere? There's air. But they specified 'in this city' so air might be too simple.
No one can touch me yet some are fond of me.
You can't touch air and you're not sure people are fond of it particularly. Like, air's fine. It's cool as fuck but are you fond of it ? No. Then what is it ?
You didn't even realize you were looking at the card again, your door wide open while standing in the middle of the hallway ridiculously. Slapping yourself mentally for being so careless, you enter and close the door and all your locks shut.
Some are fond of me, huh ?
In Gotham, what are people even fond of ? Misfortune you'd say. These fuckers love to see others suffer and even make sure they do by engaging in others people life.
But you don't know if that's really the answer. Damn, can't they just give you simple question? Or even better: stop giving you any ?
You drop your bag on the floor, slouching your shoulders and throwing yourself on the couch. Fuck, you hate your life. Why are you even here? You don't deserve this life. Nobody does !
Haphazardly moving your hand, you end up successfully grabbing the remote. You need to empty your mind, or have a background noise at least.
The screen lights up displaying you the newest information girl. The last man disappeared after he made the mistake of letting show his politic side. It's obvious everyone is corrupted here but the mystery in this story is ; who erased him ? It could be mob, politics themselves, everyone.
This city is lost.
The woman is talking about the incessant inflation and how numerous factories and business saw themselves forced to close for good. You just hope your business won't shut down, you need money. What if it does close, though ? You were already sweating trying to live with two jobs, but what if you end up jobless ?
It'll be impossible for you to pay anything. To keep your apartment. To eat. What are you supposed to do if this happens ? You already thought about that and all of your long reflection session always end up on one conclusion: kill yourself.
Because there's no way you're living without job in Gotham while being in the streets. You would have left the city if you had money or even family out there but it's not the case. So yeah, killing yourself that is.
Sure it looks a little extreme but isn't earth overpopulated anyway ?
It's better than being killed. At least, you choose your death ! But you're gonna hope this still won't happen. Up to now, your job is yours so taking such drastic measures won't be necessary. And you hope it'll stay this way.
Damn, you're depressed again. You drown out your worries by hiding your face in your couch's pillow. Man, what capitalism is doing to one.
You switch the channel without looking where your fingers pressed, this time a man is talking. He's saying something about a criminal and quoting every one of his crime. It was going crescendo, at first robbery, assault and burglary but just next to all of that was terrorism and mass murder.
You want to turn your head and watch the profile of this man but are too weak to move. So you simply listen closely to the man voice to get answers.
"Yes, he's a dangerous criminal and he's in town. He already break free from Arkham asylum twice now. If one of you see this man; do not engage, hide and call the police immediately. He is incredibly unstable and may not be alone. If you think you can win against him, you're wrong. He's a manipulative man and a mastermind. If you're seen by him, you better start to pray. Ends the man on a serious tone. Man, this guy knows how to reassure people...
-Indeed, a true monster. But please do not scare our audience. Batman was able to capture him twice, we'll be fine. The man chuckles but does not sound really honest. To answer all the questions you've been a lot to send us, we'll have the pleasure of meeting mister Harvey Dent here, chief of the police department to answer your worries. Harvey Dent ?"
And the voice switched to the other man. You like Harvey Dent. You like to think he's the only man in Gotham who's not corrupted. He's helping the citizens. Unlike that Wayne man. This guy could single-handedly resolve the poverty problem, but does he do it ? Of course not. He's rich after all, why should he care for bum like you ?
Harvey Dent is talking but you're not listening. All you know is that he's trying to ease the population. The men on TV are always saying the same things: empty promises. How the police is already taking care of the problem, that it'll be better soon. Like the police isn't already too fucking busy harassing the wrong people.
Harvey Dent is your last hope. The only man who can change things.
You deeply hope his promises aren't as empty as the other man before him. You turn off the TV and relax in the silence of your flat for a moment, breathing in the perfume impregnated in your couch.
There's screams outside. You can't tell if it's the neighbors or someone outside. Either way, you stand up feeling your eyelids getting heavier by each passing second.
But before leaving to your room, you stop in front of your window and stare outside for a moment. It's nighttime now. The city won't go to sleep, oh no, it's just waking up. The police can already be heard in the distance with its loud sirens. This city really is chaotic. It's just everywhere, you can't escape it. Touching it isn't even possible, you can't grasp it, nor resolve it completely; it's in the air. You can't fight against it. Nobody fights against it.
Fuck, it's like they're fond of it, here.
Chaos, it's scary when you think about it. Because you can't guess what's going to happen. There was a time when you thought that anarchists could be right but if anarchy looks like this, you don't want it anymore. You just want some peace and respect. But it seems too much to ask for Gotham.
You fucking hate chaos.
The next morning, your limbs were so sore you almost didn't make it on time to work. Your boss reprimanded you about your delay, pressuring you by recalling you the time one of your colleagues got fired for it. You were only late of something like one or two minutes but it didn't matter to him.
He only wanted to feel superior. He didn't even need real reasons to yell at you.
The restaurant wasn't packed. Only the usual rich families wanting to spend a pleasant day. They were here to eat breakfast. You try not to think too much about the fact that one single of their jewelry is equal to your salary.
The streets were alive; people running, cars honking. Your colleague hitting your shoulder to bring you back to earth, everything is normal.
"You think you can ask Mike to make another one ? she asks you with a sweet voice. The kid threw a tantrum. It's not salted enough and he hates sausages.
You lift up your eyes towards the crying kid in the back. Cold eyes stuck to his face. You're sure he specifically asked for sausage. You're the one who wrote down his order. And the salt ? Can't he just fucking put some himself?
-Don't question it. They're regulars. Plus, I don't think having beef with a kid is good for our reputation." Tells you your friend after seeing the death look you were giving him.
So you take the plate that looked absolutely perfect and delectable to bring it to Mike. Mike is an old man once passionate about cooking. Now he's forty three and stuck cooking eggs and toast to some crying kids.
"No fucking sausage and more salt please. you say, throwing the plate on the counter in a loud clatter. The man laughs at your anger and don't even need to ask to understand. 'Got it boss !' is your answer.
You lay your weight on the counter, back meeting the freezing temperature of it. Different smells invade your senses; fresh bread, warm oil and eggs. Well, lot of different smells were here as well but they're the one that really stuck out to you.
"You were late this morning right ? Did the client touched their plate ? You can eat it otherwise, it looks fine.
-Because it is, it was made by the best cook of Gotham after all.
The man laughs, mimicking someone blushing by putting his hands on his cheeks. He tells you that you're lying and that you're saying that to flatter him only. Mike had buzzed his hair a few months ago but they were back already; small rough curls mocking him.
You sigh and look back at the plate, it did look really fine. The kid hadn't even touched it ! The eggs and the bread were intact, left in the same state it was neatly put in earlier.
You spend your sweet time talking with Mike before your boss comes in infuriated, ordering you to come back at the front. And you're forced to do so. Grabbing a water jug on your way and putting on a fake smile, you walk towards a new family sitting so straight your back hurts just looking at them.
All of them laid down their menu and are waiting. You arrive, apologizing for the wait. 'Have you decided ?' you ask while putting the water on the table. The man takes the menu and start listing his orders without a smile nor even a look in your direction. The woman is busy keeping her children calm and asking them to calm down. The other tables are side-eyeing her while the husband doesn't even acknowledge his wife.
"Noted, you smile and turn your head to stare at the woman for her to start ordering.
She smiles awkwardly, and tells you her kids orders before ordering for herself. You thank them, "I'll be right back." and you leave to the kitchen. You sigh, scotch the orders on the wall, grabs the plate left for you to take and head back to the crying kid from earlier. The demon who ordered fucking sausage before saying he hated them.
But as soon as you place the plate before him with a smile, the kid slams his fists on the table resulting in his glass of water to splash on you and break on the floor. The mother gasps while the dad gives a slap in his son's head without even you registering the whole situation. Your clothes are completely soaked, you want to say something but his mother is sending daggers at you with her eyes and you know not to mess with this stupid fucking family.
Did he did it on purpose ? Yes. Are you gonna say something ? No.
"It's okay, I love children." you don't.
And you leave. Deeply humiliated. But you can't do anything. Because you're no one compared to them, they're gonna win. Always. Your friend asks if you're okay, you shrug. She's unable to question you further as she has to continue working. You head to the back in search of a broom.
The small closet is all the way behind the kitchen and you're already tired just thinking about it. Once you're in, you frenetically search for your item only for a shelf to fall apart behind you and destroy itself on the ground. You bite your lower lip with all your strength to retain you from crying and cursing the whole world.
It's okay, it's just a shelf. It's okay, you try to think but it's hard when it's not even noon and too much shit already happened to you.
You crouch down and start gathering everything you can when your eyes falls upon another one of these poker card. You frown and take it in your hands, examining it deeply. Uh, wow, okay. It's a little weird. You just happen to receive these daily in your mailbox and suddenly there's one here. Okay, totally normal.
You stand up, looking around you for an answer, trying to see if a camera is here somewhere. But nothing. So you turn the card to read the new message: You need one to live, I often rip it apart and yours is mine to steal. A heart ? you immediately think. You definitely need one to live and the sentence 'steal your heart' is kinda famous. But rip it apart ? Is it, like, a metaphor ? Glancing back quickly, you notice a small note left in the bottom right corner of the card. It reads: what a shitty shelf.
You laugh nervously, your breath getting stuck in your throat. What the actual fuck ? it's not even funny, what the hell ? Sorry for the fucking shelf ? They knew this was going to happen ? You definitely have to talk to someone.
You pass your hand on your face, rubbing it strongly as if to wake you up from a bad dream. Then you take the broom and head back.
Rushing to the kitchen, you accidentally pushes someone in your haste. You see Mike from afar and don't even need to approach him that you yell your question for everyone to hear:
"Mike, do you happen to play poker ?" the man faces you, his confused expression told it all, he didn't. And from the other's cook faces, they probably all thought that you were crazy. None of them looking guilty. But you'll investigate that later.
Not wasting any seconds, you almost run to the main room to find your friend. Luckily for you, she's cleaning glasses at the bar.
"Hey, is it yours ?" you're a little out of breath when showing her the joker card. Your friend simply shakes her head. When you asked her if she knew if one of your colleagues was playing poker, she shrugged and told you she didn't know with an apologetic smile.
"Why ? she asks.
-It's complicated." you say.
It can't be from the same person, right ? If it is anyway, that probably means one of your colleagues is the one putting these at your place. Which is a terrifying idea because you sure never gave your address to anyone here. Trying to see the bright side of it all, that means that you may know your 'joker'. And if that's the case, there's a way for you to stop them. It's better than the cards coming from a total stranger, because you can't act against them. You'll probably leave some clues at work to see and trap your joker.
The rest of the day was terribly hard. You were dying from the inside. Your tummy was growling like a beast; you did not have the time to eat. As you're juggling between two jobs, your boss thought that he had to exploit you as much as he could before you left. Because you're joining the bar, your second working place, at two pm.
"You're gonna leave in the middle of the day, when most people are coming. I'm losing money here, you see ?" he had said to you that day. Yeah, he does not give you any breaks because to him, you don't need one as you leave earlier. Of course you tried to negotiate and he was agreeing with you, on the condition that he pays you less.
"Mike, I'm leaving. you tell him, taking off your apron. Have a nice day, say hi to your kids for me." he smiles warmly to you, wave and you're out of the room in a quarter of seconds. You already bid goodbye to your friend so all you had to do now was to leave.
Putting on your jacket, your thoughts can't stop but think back about this other card you found. Yours is mine to steal. In what sense ? You could've thought it was some creepy flirting but it's just too much. You found these at home, at work. Everywhere. Are they going to rip your heart apart, too ? Are these threats ?
Hopping in the bus, you try to stay away from Gotham's crackhead as much as possible but it's hard when they're drunk and staring at you like they want to beat the shit out of you.
Fortunately, your stop arrives and you hurry to get out. It's 2:36 PM (14:36), the bar is not open yet but cleaning and organizing everything is part of your contract.
It's at five pm (17h) that you open the bar, standing behind your counter and waiting patiently for clients to arrive. You're happy Sean is here. He's a big man of 2m3 (~6'8), practices combat sport and knows how to handle different weapons. In a neighborhood like this, you're more than grateful to have him.
He's also the son of the owner. So it's really just the two of you here. The first persons starts entering the place and it quickly fills up entirely. It's quite a famous area, cops never comes here as mobs are doing their own laws. Sean puts on some background music you can't even hear anymore over the loud voices of the men laughing cavernously.
You're busy serving people's drinks. Moving as fast as you could but it being hard when your thoughts are plagued by cards and your mind is not here. Who's this joker man ?
The street lamp are all finally on, meaning it was past seven already. You didn't even see time pass, the incessant flirting and bickering of the men here enough to keep you from being alone with your thoughts.
"Thanks baby." says a young man when you give him his beer. He has a really bad scar going from his forehead to his lower lip. It's no surprise, you saw men with less limbs, other talking unknowns languages, some with sight or hearing completely lost. Sometimes normal people like you would come, women even but more rarely as the men here were true animals.
You wonder what type of people there is with you tonight. You're not naive enough to think all of them are innocent, in fact, you're sure 85% of your client here are criminals. This bar is situated apart from the city, in a corner more secluded with abandoned looking buildings and scary dark alleys you certainly don't want to visit at night, or even at day for that matter.
This place sucks.
Honestly, with your cards problem, you even considered engaging a spy to see who put these creepy notes in your mailbox. But two things prevented you to do so; first, you do not want to do business with criminals, second; there was a chance that your joker was one of your client.
Some of your clients here probably have mental illness as well, worsening their state. And maybe someone fixated on you and decided to follow you home. It'd be really awkward to engage a man to scare your joker away, only for him to be the same person you're trying to avoid.
But now this idea starts to disappear. You found a card at work after all, your boss is not stupid enough to let anyone break in. So the criminal track wasn't the one. It's one of your colleagues. There's just no way one of the bar's client could have followed you home and at the restaurant.
But on the other hand, it's difficult to see one of your colleagues following you home too. Because after working at the restaurant, you're not heading home right away. You're working here. Is it possible they waited outside until you finished ?
"A whisky for me." is what tears you away from your misery.
You do not look up, instead turning your back to him and reaching the shelves to search for the bottle. You grab a glass, throwing ice cubes in it and pouring the harsh liquid in. You then slide it to him, he nods and drink a first long gulp.
You follow his arm to his face before blocking on it. It's a man with a skin so pale it's getting worrying. His eye bag are terribly dark that you thought he had put black eye-shadow on them. And for a second, you truly thought it was the case. He had really bad scars going from each corner of his lips up to his cheeks, like a badly drawn smile. In the small crevices of his scarred skin, there was faint white and red paint, or make-up that did not left during shower. Is he like, a mime or a clown ? He looks like he haven't showered for a while, no judgements or anything, but his green hair are greasy.
He continues to savor his drink quietly while you're here, astonished by such weird scars. You saw scars, a lot of them. But they all looked accidental, caused by self defense or anything. But his clearly looked volunteer. You could clearly see that the goal was to create some sick form of smile, whether it is successful or not. What the hell happened to this guy ? Has he been tortured ? Did he make these to himself ?
'You got some nasty scars' you want to say. But the wicked grin he gives you is enough to make you gulp and smile awkwardly. Of course he saw you looking at him, you did not move an inch/millimeters. And he does not look like the type of guy to be nice.
"D'you like them ?
-Sorry ? you blinked.
-My scars. Do you like them ?
-Uh, yeah, yeah.
Fucking creepy. What the hell ? What did he do to have those ? Why is he even asking you this ? Why is he looking at you like that ?
-Do you want to know how I got them ?
-No." you answer at the mere second he ended his question, by pure fear he was going to destroy you. Or try to recreate those scars on you. Hey, you never know.
The man grins and chuckles at the quickness of your answer and stops talking for a while. Did you just escape death ? You think so.
He stopped drinking, though. You try to look busy but you're just organizing and disorganizing things on loop. Sean is having the time of his life chatting with the clients towards the tables area. But you, you're stuck behind the counter. You can't even count the times you got your ass slapped or got whistled. Plus, some of these guys often try to threaten you with knifes to make you give them free drinks.
It could've work if Sean wasn't here.
But it's comical in a sense. The morning, you're busy being the little dog, the little slave of these stuck rich people crying when their plate arrives one minute late, with prices on the menu so high it's clearly a scam for some eggs and bacon. With a ground so perfectly clean you could lick it.
And at night, you're here. Surrounded by criminals, drunkards and God knows who. With bad music taste rumbling in the background and place so dirty you could throw up and not even see it through the trash lingering on the ground. Well, in your defense, because you're the one cleaning, it was clean before. But everyone arrives with their disgusting shoes or bleeding and then they spill their drinks, and they fight and, yeah. At the end of the day, this place is a mess.
Your back is still facing the mime guy but you know he's staring at you. You know it because you can't stop shuddering. Your works are sure keeping you in touch with reality at least, you've seen both extreme.
"What's your name ?" You face him, afraid to offend this weirdo.
Telling him your name out of all the people ? Never. Smiling the best you can, you tell him your coworker name from the restaurant. He grins like a Cheshire cat, his smile accentuated by his prominent scars, nodding. You know better than to ask him back his name, he's probably, surely, a criminal. You don't have a death wish at the moment. You usually don't like to lie but this job at the bar taught you better.
-You know, he starts again and you pray he does not start to harass you with questions, he licks his lower lip before continuing. There's one thing I truly hate in this world. He pauses. You wanna know what ?
-Tell me. You say reluctantly, not wanting to anger him.
He lays one of his elbows on the counter, raising a brow and looking around him as if going to tell you a secret he wants no one else but you to know. Then, he looks at you again, a mysterious glint in his eyes.
-Liars.
Oh.
-They're such... he squints his eyes, moving his hand in the air to the flow of his thoughts. Vicious, little bitch, you know ? If we want to change things, he licks his lips, they're the first people that have to go. Don't you think ?
-Yes, I'm with you on that. you hurry to answer, nodding frenetically, feeling your blood run cold and a sweat cross your spine. Myself I really can't stand lying, you know ? Liars are really bad, they're manipulative and all. you were just trying to save your ass at this point. You received a lot of threats in your life, but this man right here ? There was something deeply wrong with him. He was fucking traumatizing you. You did not want to mess with him.
The only thing plaguing your thoughts is; does he know ? Does he know you lied about your name ? Because he specifically asked this question right after you presented yourself. Does he know ? No, no he doesn't. How is he supposed to know you ? You don't even have any name tag on.
The man chuckles deeply before you, licking very briefly his lips again; is that a tic ?
-What's his name ? he asks, looking straight to Sean, as if judging his soul. Does he have to stare at people like he wants to kill them all the time ?
Now you understand. He scared the shit out of you to ensure you wouldn't be lying to him. And now he's testing you. Why, you don't know. But you answer honestly this time. He smiles mischievously. Maybe that wasn't even his plan, maybe he's just deeply weird and unsettling. Maybe he doesn't even know you ever lied to him. Maybe you see things where there's none.
If there's one thing Gotham has taught you, it's to be wary of everyone.
-Are you fucking him ? he asks again, still looking at Sean laughing with the others.
-Why ? this thought never even crossed your mind before. Why would you fuck Sean ? He's nice, he's good looking but, you don't know, you wouldn't fuck him. You just, don't want to ? He's a friend.
-He's quite the tall guy. Are you fucking him ? he insists, ignoring completely your question.
Wow, that is getting incredibly uncomfortable and personal. You know you're supposed to entertain them and all but damn, this guy is killing you. You throw a glance in Sean's direction, hoping to catch his attention so he could help you but he's busy laughing with other clients.
-Why're looking at him ? I'm the one talking.
-I don't think this is appropriate, Sir. It's quite the personal questions you're asking me here. you laugh nervously, hoping to relax the mood but the man before you doesn't even react. Can I maybe offer you another drink ? It'll help...
-You got something to hide ? he licks his lips.
What. The. Fuck.
-I have to stay mysterious in order for you to come back, right ? you do not want this weirdo to come back, but that's the default sentence you usually say to avoid answering intimate questions.
But the make-up man does not insist, he gives you a cheeky grin.
-You want me to come back ? How flattering.
Most of the time, what you implies when saying this is that you want them to come back to consume more, so you have more money because you're kinda the bartender of this place. But this guy just plainly wants to fuck you up. Where's Sean when you need him the most ?
It's like no one around you is seeing you. They're all drinking their sadness, trauma, day away, not caring that a creepy guy is keeping you in his weird conversation you clearly do not want to participate in.
-Do you want to play a game with me ?
-I'm... Quite busy, actually. So...
But he knows you, now. He knows you're a bad little liar. Listening to you is now optional to him; he clearly doesn't care. The man stands up and you start to get scared. What is he going to do ? Is he going to hurt you ? Your hand is holding firmly the bat under the counter, fingers shaking with adrenaline. You never used a weapon before, less against someone. You never hurt someone, intentionally at least.
Sean, move your ass over here, now.
The man grins, eyes trailing your arms. He knows you're hiding something under this counter, but can he blame you ? You're surrounded by criminals, he's one himself ! It's impossible to know what to expect. Honestly, you're ready to scream to get attention and get helped. Even if there's high possibilities for a general fighting to start resulting in this poor bar to be destroyed.
But the man does not try to hurt you, he smiles, put his hands in his pocket and you now realize how well he's dressed for someone like him. A nice and well maintained purple suit.
"It makes me live and follow you at dark, keeps me up at night and makes you fall apart."
No...
-Who am I ?" He ends slowly, torturing you.
Your shoulders slouched down, tension leaving your hand on the bat. Your body become a big, useless puddle. Eyes as big as owl ones.
"I-I don't want to play. Your stutter had gave away your uneasy feeling, you step back, eyeing this man from head to toe.
You've come to despise those damn riddles. You don't want to hear more of them.
-But this one's so simple sweetheart. He mocks you. It starts with a pretty little O and ends with a N. I'm sure you'll find out.
You shake your head slowly; no, it's not simple, no, you don't want to find out, no, you don't fucking want to listen to him. But he simply chuckles, relatively amused by such a big reaction. Well, with that kind of huge revelation, you can't quite control yourself.
He's rummaging through his pocket, heart almost leaving you. What is he searching for ? A weapon ? What is he thinking ? But against all odds, the joker man takes out something so small you can't even see it behind his palm. You know he's doing it on purpose, hiding it from you to destroy you more, to see the look of surprise, fear or shock, or... Whatever, on your face.
-That's my business card, as a little... Reminder." You deeply doubt someone like him own any business, less business card. So what is he going to give you ?
He lays gently his hand on the counter right before you, not letting you see what he was hiding until he removed completely his hand, confirming your theory of him hiding it on purpose. You'd recognize them anytime. Your heart is beating faster, so fast you're scared it might explode. Nothing is written on the side you're staring at, you grab the cardboard, praying that it's just a crazy coincidence even if the drawing of the joker smiling stupidly on the card is taunting you.
But when you turn the card, the answer is given to you. For the first time since you've started to receive these.
-Obsession." you sigh, breath getting stuck in your throat. You were petrified. "You're... You're the joker man." you say in a shaky voice. Was it finally him ? Answers, you needed answers. But when you looked up, the man had disappeared. Leaving you with nothing but deep fear.
Silent tears slide on your cheeks, you bring your hand to your mouth in order to hide your muffles. Looking back at the card, you feel your legs give up under you when your real name is written in bold black letters in a bottom corner. Bile is rushing to your throat.
It's him. He's the one sending you these.
But you don't know him. You don't fucking know this man. And he's a criminal. You're fucked. Smiling like a madman, you start to laugh nervously, not realizing the situation. It's a joke, right ? You cough, progressively choking on your saliva. You bite your lower lip so hard it starts bleeding. You pray, you pray so hard this man isn't your stalker but you're lying to yourself. It's literally the worst case scenario that could happen.
You've never seen this man in your entire fucking life. Where does he even come from ? Why you ? Why him ? With his fucking creepy scars and fucking riddles. He knows your address ! Your name ! What else does he know ?
"You okay there ?" You nod without even looking at the person talking to you. You choke out a quick answer before rushing to the back towards the private toilet.
Immediately collapsing to the ground, you throw up everything you had in you, which wasn't a lot to begin with. You barely even ate anything. But you can't stop. You empty yourself, only vomiting water.
Sean finally comes get you, he rubs your back and help you get up. "What happened ?" He asks you.
"I don't fucking know." Is the only thing you can muster.
What you do know however, is that you're scared to go home.
"Are you heading home tonight ?" You ask him, voice hoarse. "Well, yeah" is his answer. So you asked him, begged him to come with you. Because you were horrified by the mere idea of going home alone. Maybe he would be here.
"You can come to mine if ya want." he offers. And you think that the guy from yesterday probably was right, you were weird. Why aren't you going to the cops, after all ? Probably because they'll think you're lying, that you're insane. A joker ? Harassing you with riddles ? You'll end up in a asylum in no time.
But wouldn't you be safer in a asylum ?
When Sean and you closed the bar, it was already well past one am. You didn't had the strength to redo this all over again tomorrow. But Sean was of good company, cheering you up and trying to ease your mind. Multiples times he tried to ask what was wrong, but he guessed it alone. "Was it that weird customer in purple ? The one with the suit ? I saw him lingering a really long time at the counter." You shrugged when he said that, completely worn out. What could he even do against him anyway ? The Joker man wasn't known to any of you. It was a lost cause.
Chatting with your friends wasn't even crossing your mind, you were terrified. The long walk to his apartment was as quiet as a church. What the fuck were you going to do now ? You were dead, yes, you were just dead at this point. What can you even do against some psycho following you around ? Fight back ? Yeah, if you have a death wish. You have to get out of this city, there's no other plan. But how ? And to go where ?
"We're here." says Sean. You've never been to his apartment's before, and to be honest, you would have preferred for it to happen in other circumstances. Trying to escape a criminal wasn't in this year plan.
Before you stood a tumbledown grey building, not much different from yours in reality. After all, Sean's not that rich, he's payed like you and live with his dad's payment. Though, you're pleasantly surprised to see the coziness of his place.
Warm lights were turned on, his sofa looked quite mellow and the general smell of the apartment was lovely. Not that you're judging him, but you wouldn't have thought he was such a clean guy. Because he's like, well, some kind of mafia man. So, yeah, he often smells like sweat and dirt himself, it's a surprise his place is so neat. Sure, it's damaged by humidity then and there, there's cracks in the walls but so do yours. The paint is peeling in some areas as well, you're used to it enough to not notice it. You take off your shoes, but keep your jacket. Probably in search of a safe feeling, maybe by fear of being vulnerable.
"You can sit on the couch, I'll order something.
You don't even have the will to eat right now, the ugly feeling everything entering your body might be threw back out instantly bothering you too much. However, you did sit on the couch. It smelt like him; you hated it. You were violating his property, his intimacy. You shouldn't be here.
But do you really have a choice ?
Sean is talking in the background, on the phone, yet, not a single word is understood by you. It's like he's speaking a whole new language. The red flowers on his TV stand keeps reminding you of the joker's card and his damn hat.
He hung up, that you heard, and left for another room. You hate to bother him, he probably only wanted to go home and sleep after a hard day but you messed up his plans. Grabbing the remote, you turn on the TV to empty your mind. You search for series, documentary or cartoons, only to be disappointed at the sight of obnoxious ads.
You end up watching the news, it being the sole channel not drowned in ads. A woman is speaking in a professional neutral voice, wearing a white shirt. She talks about the inflation killing our country before going onto her next subject; the outgrowing insecurity. The two preoccupation of the government, or at least, what they want you all to think about.
From what she says, a hold-up happened in a bank yesterday, in plain sight. (Why do they talk about it now, you don't now.) The building stank laughing gas. Only one man declares having seen the main suspect. Her chair slides to the side, leaving space for the video to appear and for the victim to testify; "Green disgusting hair and some fucked up clown make-up. That's the only thing I saw. He has no value, I'm telling you, criminals used to believe in things ! He has no respect for anyone, he killed his own team ! He's gonna come back for me, I'm sure of..." and he's erased from the screen at his outburst, for everyone to forget his trauma.
Did he say clown ?
"Indeed, the woman vigorously resumes, a faint smile on, was she laughing at the victim ? green hair and clown make-up is on brand today as everyone only talks about this mysterious criminal. After disappearing for months, the troublemaker is back in town and seems unstoppable. But has he truly ever gone away ?
It's not the same man, right ? No, no of course not. If he's a famous criminal, he has better things to do than harass insignificant useless civilians like you with stupid riddles. He robbed a bank ! Why would he even look in your direction? Fuck, what if he thinks you have some kind information? What if he think you're related to a criminal ? What if you are ?
-He calls himself Joker, always wears his clown make up and has a habit of wandering at night." The woman straightens her posture and clasps her hands together. "After yesterday's fiasco, the famous criminal already perpetrated his next attack. Earlier, at noon, the biggest hospital of the city was targeted. Cops were able to evacuate everyone urgently. Gotham is in shamble, people are afraid and angry. The police is trying to calm the crowds, in vain." Images are shown behind her of people running, yelling, stretchers evacuating and flashing cops car during her speech.
She continues talking but you stopped listening when finally a picture of the Joker was displayed on the screen, his face horrifyingly reminding you something. Too many information are going to your brain in so little time. You try to rationalize everything but it's hard when your mind is too tired to cooperate.
He's called the Joker. And you happen to receive joker cards. He wears make up. The man at the bar looked like he did. Hyperventilating is the only thing seemingly still possible from your body. You stand up, inking, sinking, learning, engraving his face to memory.
Two big scars, both going from each corner of his mouth to his cheeks.
Like a badly drawn smile.
"Sean !" you call. Your friend runs out of the bathroom, disheveled, shirt loose and no pants, only in underwear. He rushed out, scared something had happened. Your shaking pointer aim at the TV screen, at the face of the man on it. "It's him. He was at the bar."
When Sean looks at the man, a chill runs down his spine. He understands what might have happened earlier. He could see the purple suit the man had on on the picture, which was the exact same one he saw at the bar. Fuck, it is the same man. He knows the Joker, hell, everyone knows him here.
And that's bad news.
He's everywhere in everyone business. He has no sense of loyalty whatsoever, killing even his best allies and no one has the slightest clue what he wants. At the bar, he probably scared the shit out of you, he probably threatened you, too. Why, it's impossible to know. He's quite the unpredictable.
-Don't worry, he says, he probably forgot about you already. He's a scary man, likes to shock people a little. He always attack for a reason and you're not a criminal, so you're good."
But you couldn't believe it. He does not have all the information. He doesn't know about the tons of cards you received until now. Eyes completely stuck to the screen, you observe the face before you, knowing you probably wouldn't be able to escape him.
Somehow, this emission confirmed to you that he was real, that you weren't dreaming. And that you really were in it deeply.
Sean insists you shower to relax a little bit, you're holding onto the remote for dear life, nails digging in your palm. When in the bathroom, your eyes automatically gravitates towards the mirror, discovering your new face scarred by sleepless nights and cries. You're almost scared of your reflection. Sighing, your hands find themselves in your pockets alone but you're startled by the coldness they are greeted with. What have you in your pocket that is freezing like that ?
Your unease comes back in a rush when you take out another one of these cards from your jacket. Are you for real going crazy ? What is going on ? When did this get here ? How did it get here ? It's your damn jacket ! You had it in the work closet all day !
You're tired and doing this little fucked up game is not doing any good. A greasy almost wiped red is the first thing you see, his lips, you guess. He wears some kind of paint as lip stick, he fucking kissed the card, creepy bastard.
Turning the stiff paper, your eyes meet once again one of these painful riddle.
"I'm everywhere, you can't escape me and I'm coming for you. Who am I ?" tears slide quietly on your cheeks, the only sane reaction your emotionless state can give. You're not even moving, eyes staying fixated on the card; the tears are just physical. Body exhausted from it all. What is this now ? You know he's not talking about an object anymore, he's talking about himself. It's not riddles, it's threats. He's coming for you, what is he going to do ? Kill you ? Torture you, or worse ?
The shower did nothing to ease your nerves, you've never been so tensed in your life. What could you even do against this man ?
When Sean called you to eat, you let him know you weren't feeling the slightest hunger. He said nothing, simply keeping a plate for you on the kitchen counter.
You did not even blink an eye that night, paranoid at the slightest noise, a knife slept cautiously under your cushion. The windows and doors were completely shut and you would have loved to do the very same thing to your brain. You fell asleep, eventually, when you should have been up.
Sean was still asleep when you awoke the next day. You were late, and terribly so, the clicking clock on the wall warning you. It was already way past nine. You don't like to leave his house without even thanking him for his hospitality once again. But you'll see him tonight, at the bar. You'll probably have to quit, though. Not yet, as you have to secure another job. You can't risk being here without money, after all. Joker knows where you work at, no way you're staying more than necessary. But... he has to know about your restaurant job too, somehow.
You had a card in the closet, with his stupid shelf trap, after all.
You're safer there, maybe. It's quite the chic area. There's camera, people. Socialites are here, nobody attacks socialites. Usually, at least. Doubts subsists, the journalist on the TV affirmed the Joker attacked in the middle of the day, in plain sight. Would he attack the rich ? They're untouchable, their lawyer always know what to do and they know everyone. You can't kill a famous advocate, right ? It's like attacking the mayor. Remembering his face, you keep the unsettling impression he could kill anyone.
Fuck.
You take a piece of paper, write a few words on it, scotch it on the fridge and leave, dashing outside to not worsen your lateness. You were dead, oh you were so dead. Late couldn't even describe your situation by now. You boss was going to kill you, de-materialize you and send you in another world.
You ran until your legs couldn't support you anymore, people were side-eyeing you in the streets. Certainly thinking of you as some kind of thief or at the very least a criminal of some sort.
Jumping in the nearest bus, your legs being too weak to support you anymore, you finally arrive at your workplace ten minutes later. It was quarter to ten.
You're breathless, rushing once again to the rear of the restaurant. You push the back door open but to your surprise, it won't budge. What ? The guys never lock the door that early in the morning, they know you'll arrive, eventually. You knock a few times, knowing you had the key anyway but if someone was passing by inside, it would be quicker.
You don't have to wait that long as your boss himself is the one opening it for you, as if waiting beside it until your entry. He probably was. He crosses his arms on his chest, eyes glaring holes in you. Damn, you'll have to fight with him, again. You promised him you wouldn't be late anymore, he will never trust you again.
Well, it's not like he trusted you much before to begin with.
"Listen, I'm terribly sorry I'm late but... he scoffs.
-As If that was the only problem ! The man tightens his jaw, talking between his teeth. He approaches his head to yours, almost colliding your forehead together; he talks lowly, scared to be heard. You know damn well what's wrong.
Wow, okay. You were not expecting his reaction to be that dramatic. You're just (incredibly) late. It's not new. What's gotten into him ? You squint your eyes, at a loss of words.
-I was just... You start, ready to recite him once again your preposterous apologies.
-I don't give a fuck about you being late, he cracks, get out of here now ! You are not to put a single of your foot in this restaurant anymore ! You're gonna scare my customers ! In the process, a postilion left its house to attack your cheek. You cringe, immediately wiping it with your sleeve, shuddering in disgust.
-What ?
-What, what, he mimics you with a grimace and a weird voice, Get out of here ! He articulates each words slowly as if you were a foreigner, except his tone was harsh and firm. Haven't you seen the news ? If they hear a criminal is working here, I'm screwed.
-A criminal ? But I'm not... I'm, what the hell ? I'm not a criminal Tony.
-Yeah, yeah, and I'm rich ! Get the fuck out of here or at least, do me a favor and let me turn you in to the police." his face changes to disdain, suddenly thoroughly repelled by your being. "Man, you have to be some dirty criminal to have 600 000$ put on your face. What kind of shit have you done, huh ?
Six fucking what ?
-Uh, listen, I think there's some kind of misunderstanding here. I'm no criminal and I'm definitely not worth that much money.
Hell, in all your life, you did not even earn that much money !
-Hey, his tone changed to deviously adopt one sweeter. I don't want any problems okay ? With you, the cops or whoever is fucking wanting you dead. I'm an honest citizen.
What a hypocrite, he was literally yelling at you seconds ago.
You frown, trying to even understand what he's implying. You scratch your cheek, eyeing him from head to toe. He's in a tux, like always. He never do shit here, settling for bossing everyone around while trying to make you believe he's an irreplaceable element in the team.
Judging by his eyes, he is not kidding.
Is he for real firing you ? Just like that ? For some imaginary story he just made up ? Jobless, you will be jobless. He is firing you. A nervous chuckles escapes you, earning you a raise of the brow from Tony. No, oh no no ! You have this job, you did nothing wrong ! Life is already more shitty than it ever been ! Stalker, debts, fucking serial killer wanting your ass and now you lost your main job ? No, that won't do.
You were already planning to leave the bar, how are you supposed to find back two jobs ? One already was an ordeal.
-Honest citizen ? Are you blind ? You were more so than him at the moment. You don't even have an ounce of honesty in your fucking body ! Are you even aware of everything I did for this shitty place ? You can't fire me and you won't because no one else want to be your fucking slave ! Your job is slavery ! I don't want to be some kind of toy you throw away after you've had enough fun with it !
Tony was outraged you could talk to him like that. He was similar to a bourgeois in the eighteenth century, acting shocked after being the most gruesome person alive, putting his hand displayed on his chest and playing innocent.
-Me ? You should be honored to even be working ! You never understand, do you ? You are wanted, that's it ! There's nothing more, nothing less. You are fired. I am not hiring trash.
You hope the worst criminal of this town gets you, right here, for his fucking ugly disgusting restaurant to be destroyed to the very last crumbs. You'll use his body as a human shield while you're at it, after all, what else can he be useful for ?
Your body is boiling like lava. Hitting, jumping, crying, you don't know what you want, need, to do to externalize all of these toxic feelings. Never in your life have you felt more used, humiliated.
You knew he was an asshole, of course. Everyone does, but hell he fired you ! After years of being his toy !
You understand why people in Gotham are crazy. You understand why they suddenly breakdown and fall into crime. Their life, just like yours, was wasted by some self centered prick like him. Some self centered prick who are not even much richer than you, but think they will be when disrespecting you.
Your face isn't even warm, it's seething.
Your life is flashing before you, old friend, family, home, Mike. You won't even be able to pay your rent ! Of course chaos would be loved in a city where trash rules. Why the manifestation are so violent, why insecurity and banditry are prominent ? Because everyone is tired but nobody is listening. Because nobody wants to talk, they think they're at the top of the food chain.
And he won't change his mind. You're fired, that's all. Nothing can alters his decision. It's too late. He probably just created some poor excuses to get you out, you know it. Because you're not a criminal, and no one is giving away 600 000$ for your ass; he's lying. It's too farfetched.
You muster the calmest voice you can get while in such a boiling state, and God knows how hard it is. Wasting more time here is useless, he'll pay but not now, and not by you. You have a new problem: you need to find a job.
-Why don't you kill yourself, Tony ? Right now ? your eyes were empty against his outraged ones. That's why your wife left you, by the way. That's why she left you and took your damn kids. You don't even deserve to live, really, kill yourself, jump, it'll be better for everyone."
You shrug and turn away to never come back. You really hope he disappears forever.
And without anything else to do with your day, you went back home, body functioning by its own. With no diploma and no driving license, how were you supposed to find a job ? You had little experience, mostly having worked in little jobs everywhere. Cashiers, cleaner, babysitting, gardener (you really just cut bushes and mowed the lawn), security guard, fuck, you did it all. Plus, you have a second job and companies hate to arrange their schedules according to yours, in their point of view, you're the desperate one, you should manage your life.
It was safer to wander in Gotham now, the sun was bright in the sky. It was a clear day, really pretty. A shame you couldn't enjoy it.
You open the always creaking door of the building, feeling the freezing temperature inside. Truly a mystery, though a benediction in the hottest summer. A night out and it's like you already don't know this place anymore. You stand in the middle of the hall, staring at each crack in the walls, each suspicious stains, inhaling the disgusting smell emanating from it all.
Yeah, you hate this place.
Sighing and rubbing your tensed shoulders, you approach your mailbox. Opening it, you're pleasantly surprised when no cards is in sight. Maybe he finally got bored ? Your reaction back at the bar probably wasn't what he expected, not satisfying enough so he gave up. You hope so.
What's inside however is a A4 white sheet folded in two. Thinking a neighbor might have wanted to contact you, you open the paper. Yet, on it, the photo of your identity card in huge format, above it, your whole legal name with just below a price, written 'wanted' for treason. A chill run down your spine.
Okay, that is not funny. What the hell ? Did Tony did that ? If yes, how and why ? You pass your hand on your face, harshly rubbing your eyelids to wake you up. This is a joke, everything's a joke.
An echo brings you back on earth when someone goes down the stairs, upon seeing you, your neighbor halts. You offer him a tight lip smile out of pure politeness, which is a an act he does not even try to imitates as he eyes you as if seeing an animal. Do you look that bad ?
Awkwardly, you shift your weight on your feet to ease the tension growing in you. Why is he still looking at you ? The man, even though you were already well far away from him, distances himself and instead of going straight to the door to leave, bothers to make a detour in order to skirt you completely, without daring to approach a millimeter. Does he think you're going to bite, or what ? You two have talked in the past, briefly sure, but still. Fuck, his behaviour does not comfort you one bit.
When the door shut, you're left standing alone once again.
Things are definitely going in a direction you don't appreciate, you may need to hurry up before something really bad happens. Your hand fetches your phone in your back pocket, calling Sean. When he answers, he does not even bother to greet you.
"You okay? You left really early. You're at work ?
-I got fired, long story. I really need your help, again. I'm truly sorry I myself don't quite understand what's going on and... you stop your ranting, breathless and a lump in throat.
-It's okay, really. I don't mind. Tell me everything, how did you get fired ? Why ?
You called him for several reasons. The first being that he's kind of the only friend you have. The second being that Sean's family know people. They're all criminal at different degrees, whether it is gang leader, small thief or hitman. He's the only one actively trying to live an honest life.
-It's complicated and I'm still pissed about it. you tell him seriously, walking in circles in the hall. I have a question and I really need your answer.
-Not stressing at all. He tries to ease the mood, in vain.
-Am I wanted ?
Sean doesn't answer for twenty seconds too much. His silence is starting to worry you, why isn't he saying anything ? Is he confused ? Does he know ? Please, may he not hide something from you. Wanting to distract yourself, you take the stairs to join your flat. Your fingers were creasing the paper sheet in your hand so hard you could have ripped it.
-In like, he finally starts with a strained voice, a personality kind of way ? Relationship ? He chuckles awkwardly while you frown. Well, no offense but uh, I don't think I am attracted to you, I like you but I wouldn't say I want you, you know ? But you shouldn't be insecure, you're a really great person you know, and I mean, you're not ugly so...
-Sean, what the fuck ? You finally cut him when it hit you that he wasn't answering. You were on the floor just below yours, wanting to walk and not quite go home for the moment.
-I'm sorry, was that mean ? That was definitely mean. He clears his throat. Listen, what I meant was...
-No Sean I'm not insecure, everything's fine. I did not mean... Argh ! You're in this kind of environment, you should know !
-What environment ...?
You want to pull at his hair and shake his head back and forth to punish him for being so stupid. Or maybe you were just not being clear, it was surely that. You were incredibly stressed. Traveling between the different floors or the building to stretch your legs.
-Like, criminals, mafia, I don't know. It's... You sigh, your anger dissipating when you realized you were being a little harsh to him. Weird things keep happening to me and I think I'm going crazy for thinking I may have a price on my head.
-Oh, wanted wanted. No because I thought... He coughs. Never mind. I can definitely tell you that. But honestly, odds are low. No offense but you have nothing to give to anyone. You don't have a lot of money. So I don't think anyone wants you.
Damn.
-Why do you think that anyway ? he asks.
Very briefly, you explain to him why Tony had fired you, still using the stairs and floors as a distraction. Of course, you then told him about the paper you found in your mailbox and the weird encounter with your neighbor.
-I'm just really fucking lost, Sean. I'm sorry, you've been nothing but nice to me and I keep snapping at you, I-I don't know what's going on.
-You're freaked out, it's normal. I don't blame you. I'll help you, send me the wanted poster you got. Maybe it's fake."
Of course, you tell him. You'd do pretty much anything to get out of this situation. You want it to be fake, but there's just an accumulation of bad things that tend to make you believe it's true. Looking around you, you notice to be on the last floor of the building. Flattening the paper sheet back, trying to erase all the creases, you lay it on the dirty floor of the hallways. You tear your phone away from your ear for a simple moment to take the picture. You press send.
You wait impatiently for him to say something, anything. But his reaction is clearly not the one you were waiting for:
-Oh fuck.
-What ? you panic, feeling your heart rises in your throat. What do you mean 'oh fuck' ? Sean ?" But the nauseating ringing of the call being cut short echoes in your ear.
He hung up.
You bite your lip, shutting your eyes as hard as you can. Your fingers find your closed lid, pressing on it as if calming an upcoming headache. What the fuck is going on exactly ? Why did he hang up ? Did you say something ? Did he see something ? You can't keep doing that, nobody answered any of your questions since this morning. You are tired.
You give up. You'll go back home, sleep a little. Research a job in the newspaper and hope for things to get better. Sighing, you walk the stairs once again, only this time to really move on.
Has everyone given up on you ? It feels like it, no one seems akin to want to help you. You never did any wrong to anyone. You always hold the door open to people, you give the few you have to homeless people in the streets. You payed what an old woman lacked in money for her groceries. You work everyday of the damn week, with no holidays.
What have you done ?
Sure, you're starting to break down, you told Tony to kill himself, you yelled at Sean. What the hell ? Never would you have done that in your life. What's happening ? It's getting scary out there, yet, no one's here for you to confide in.
You never should have left your hometown, you punished yourself.
The first thing you do once inside your home is falling head first on the couch. Feeling tears filling up your eyes. You don't fight them, letting them slide freely along your cheeks. After all, it's the good part of having a place to yourself, you get to cry alone in the safety of it.
You'll have to give it up, though. Without necessary money, you'll eventually need to move. Probably find a roommate and live in a red light district.
You spent the next hours trying to read classified ads, key word being 'trying' as your watery eyes didn't allow you to see much. And you ended up watching TV, like you always do. You couldn't fathom the idea of being that alone. When did it all go wrong ? Are you a horrible person ?
The news-woman kept talking and talking without stopping, saying the same things as yesterday and probably tomorrow as well. Inflation, criminality, inflation, criminality. Where were you in all of this ? What about the population ? Where were the solutions ? Is this city really stuck in a loop of chaos ?
The screen now displays a cop in a police station, sharing his feeling and impression about the improvement of the city. You don't listen to him, more struck by what's behind him: a poster on a cork board. Yours. It's your face, with the price, 'treason' shit and everything. The exact same poster you had in your mailbox. The situation is that bad, huh ? Your wanted poster is right next to The Joker one. Is there a link ? Are they hoping to find him after finding you ? They're wrong, then.
You wait, impatiently trying to decipher whether the policeman will talk about you or not. But he does not, so you lay back down on the couch. How does wanted people live freely ? You've been researched for a few hours and you're already going crazy with the feeling everyone's watching you.
Do you even know a criminal in this town ? Well, the only one you do know is Sean. You briefly meet them at the bar, as part of your job. Befriending them is not for you though, so you have no useful information to give the Joker. Then what does he want ?
The doorbell rings through the flat, screaming at you to get up and do something with your life. A chill run through your body, breath stopping for a second out of fear to be heard. For a while, you don't move. Who could it be anyway ? Surely bad news. Now that you're wanted, it could be anyone. But the rings echoes again, forcing you to get up. Slowly and as quietly as possible, you slide to the door. Eye staring through the peephole, you're surprised to discover Sean standing anxiously outside.
How did he get your address ?
Opening the different locks on your door, you however keep the small chain closing it. It wasn't much of a protection to be honest, but you needed to lie to yourself a little bit.
"You hung up on me. Is the only thing you say when your eyes meet.
-I know, I'm really sorry. Are you okay ?
-How did you get my address ? It's weird.
He explains to you how your information are given on your work file. You stand inside, judging him from head to toe. He welcomed you at his place, you have to be polite or you'll really look like an opportunistic. But it's hard when you don't know his exact thoughts.
-Why did you hang up ?
-I talked to my uncle, he has a bar in the center of Gotham. Every criminal goes there, he knows everything.
-And ?
-You're safe, it's false. You're not wanted. He... He didn't see your poster. So it was a bad joke. Silence, you don't believe him. I promise. You're not in danger.
Then why is your face plastered in all Gotham ? Is he completely sure about that information ? You hate to act this way but, it's too late for him to tell you that anyway. False or not, the poster of your head is everywhere. People will try to find you. The veracity of it all doesn't matter anymore.
Though you can't shake that uneasy feeling inside you alerting you of his lie. You saw your face on TV, in a police station. It's not nothing !
-How are you so sure ?
-I told you, you have nothing that could interest such a dangerous man as the Joker.
He's right, on the other hand, something's definitely wrong.
-What do we do, now ?
-You could let me in ? I want to help you but we can't talk if I stay outside.
Halfheartedly, you let him in. He thanks you, admires a few seconds his surroundings before plopping down on the couch. You stay standing even after closing the door shut, crossing your arms on your chest and awaiting his arguments.
Should you tell him you saw your face in a police station ? No, you need to know what he's going to tell you. He's lying, you know it now. But why ?
You thought he could be a friend, turn out you can't trust him that much. Or are you losing it ? Policemen are quite dumb here, they are completely capable of believing everything they see and considering they're desperate to catch the Joker; they could have took your poster as a track.
-What's your plan ? you ask.
-It depends on what you want.
Well, you want a lot of different things. Money, happiness, freedom, family, equality, peace. Right now though, one will be enough.
-I need a job, I can't pay my rent this month otherwise.
-That one's easy. He crosses his arms on his chest, sinking into the sofa cushions. Try ask your bank, they'll lend you some.
-No they won't Sean, I'm indebted. Seriously, did he really think life was this easy ? Did he really think you haven't thought of doing just that ?
He sighs and shrug, crossing his legs, he put his feet on the table. Your eyes are enough to tell him to put them back on the ground. He's a little bit too comfortable for your liking.
-It's these immigrants my friend. We lack money because of them.
What ?
-No, it's just poor distribution of resources. With the ongoing inflation and such, it has literally nothing to do with immigration. You frown, confusion lacing your tone, answering him as if asking a question, because what ? That was so out of pocket ? It's stupid to think like that, it's too easy to accuse others. They're as fucked as we are, you know ? Don't say that.
That's what Gotham thinks ? That each one of their problem is caused by others ? Industries, Government, Politics, they're the one causing all of this. How does someone get to this conclusion ? You thought Sean was good, hell, his family was poor. They survived thanks to drugs and banditry. He's bold to think immigrants are the problem: His family literally embezzles money.
-Jeez, calm down.
Well, it's difficult to be calm towards this kind of stupidity. But at least it keeps you in check, you know who he's voting for. Never trust anyone. It's true you don't know him that well, after all.
-You want my help or not ?
It's harder to see him in the same light as before after this, but if he's the only one willing to help, you can't waste this chance.
-Yeah. You sigh, ashamed with yourself. I need people to forget about me.
-Good, meet me at the back of the bar at the end of our shift. He's not waiting for an answer as he gets up to leave.
-Wow. No ?
He stops in his tracks as you block his way.
-What do you mean, 'no' ?
Is he serious ? With everything you risk ? Criminals at the bar know you, hell, some of them see you every night. No, you are not joining him in the dark in a creepy alley late at night when people want you dead. Also, you need to think a little before jumping straight back to work, it's dangerous.
-Because I don't want to die ?" You need to tell him. "Okay, Sean, I may not understand everything but I know you're lying to me. Am I wanted or not ?
He already lost every ounce of respect you had for him. First with the lying, then with the whole immigrants things.
-You don't believe me ? Is he trying to make you feel guilty ?
-I saw my fucking head on the TV. I believe that's enough proof for me. You cut the conversation straight, not wanting him to keep lengthening things uselessly.
Sean doesn't answer, seemingly hesitating. What is he thinking ? He has to respond. He's constantly trying to avoid the subject and it's getting frustrating.
-That means I'm in danger, right ?
-Yes." he finally answers. Thank God, you think, God why, you also think. "But not because of the Joker. He's not responsible for what's happening to you. All the cards and riddles are from him, yes, but someone saw you two talking at the bar and thought they could get to him by killing you.
You entirely stopped trusting him after he mentioned the cards and the riddles. Because never, in all your discussions, have you mentioned receiving these. He knows too much.
You don't bring it up, of course.
-Explain.
Who could have told him about the riddles, if not you ? The one sending them ? Yes, but Sean's terrified of him. Plus, he couldn't talk to him, even if he had the courage to. It's the Joker, from what you understand, you don't approach him easily. He's not the small local criminal. He's something more.
-The Joker's well known. Everyone wants to defy him. And someone saw you.
-Who ? you ask, finally getting some well deserved qualitative answers.
-His name was, uh, Korej I believe.
-Ko...Rej... you repeat, unimpressed, frowning.
Is it you or does it sound vaguely similar to Joker, but with the letters all mixed up ?
-It's his pseudonym." He hastily answers. "But his real name is John, he lives in the richest part of Gotham. He's a mob leader. He fucking despises the Joker, that's why his name is Kojer.
-Korej, you corrected.
-Yeah, it's difficult to remember. It's quite the shitty name.
He really think you're dumb, right ? You clasp your hands together, catching his drifting attention.
-Okay, well, thank you for everything Sean. It was a pleasure, truly. But now I'm gonna ask you to leave.
-You don't believe me ?
No, no you don't. Everything he ever said to you since he first came here was either weird or false. And sometimes weirdly false.
-Please, leave my house.
You'll go to the nearest police station, ask for help. And if nobody helps you, you'll find a way out of here. This city is dead anyway, there's nothing for you anymore. It's too late.
-Don't you want to talk about it ? he asks hurriedly, displaying his open hands in the air as if ready to grab your shoulders.
-If you want us to talk, okay, you yield. But choose somewhere safe, with a lot of people. I am not joining you at the back of the bar at night where everyone could kill me.
You're going crazy. Why are you even accepting this ? It's not a dream, nor a joke, you really are wanted. People want to kill you. There is money on your head. Sean is deep in thoughts before getting the enlightenment he needed, suddenly vigorously saying:
-Shopping center.
-What ?
-Let's meet at the shopping center, in two hours. I have things to prepare, people to call. You have my number, I'll call you. Is it good for you ?
His behaviour is screaming danger, on the other hand, a rendez-vous in a crowded shopping center at 3PM is not as risky as the bar. And if things turn bad, you still have a chance to run away, hidden in the mass. You hope the things he'll prepare will help you, and not worsen everything.
"Okay. You yield, once again.
-Thank you so much, he exclaimed." Why is he thanking you ? "You're a real sweetheart. It will be worth it."
And with these last words, he left.
You won't go. Of course you won't go damn, you don't want to die. He's so suspicious ! Why so much relief ? He's the one supposed to help you, you're not doing anything for him. You absolutely changed your mind. Yesterday, he was that nice man who saved your life, welcoming you home warmly. Today, he's, well, you don't know who he is anymore. You want to understand, discover what's wrong, but at the same time, it's not yours to do.
Fuck, you need to empty your mind. It's tiring, to be suspicious of everyone, to always have to thoroughly think about everything you do. You plop down on your couch, grabbing the remote and turning the TV on. There's a cartoon going on. Tom and Jerry, a cat chasing, or at least trying to, a mouse. But the mouse's well smarter than the cat.
Each time he thinks he'll catch it, the mouse finds a way to turn the situation to his advantage. Because in fact, the cat will never win. He has the illusion of strength because of his height, when the mouse is vicious, malign.
Also, if the cat caught the mouse, well, the show wouldn't have any interest anymore.
On the screen, the mouse finds a way to slam the door in the cat face, who's dizzy. To illustrate it, stars and birds are rotating around his head.
You don't know why the mouse does all this, maybe to survive. The small animal found the comfort of a warm house with good cheese and doesn't want to leave. The cat, however, is forced to chase it all day. As his owners force him to. It's his role, as the house guard, to chase rodents. Otherwise, he'll be replaced.
You have to be really damn fucked for you to start analyzing a stupid cartoon.
Jeez, it's a cat chasing a mouse, it's silly, it's fun to watch. You don't think, just turn off your brain and have fun. Why can't you do just that ?
Sighing, you change channel, trying to find something worth watching. You end up watching the news, it keeping you grounded. It helps you think you're not the worst case, that there's always worse somewhere. It's deeply selfish, but hey, you can't do much about it. Your life is pretty much ruined at the moment.
What's today's problem? Well this time, the subject is centered around climate change and its catastrophes.
"Global warming. Today, in Spain, alarming news. The national temperature has increased considerably by 46°F (5°C) since last year. The Spanish are revolted, the world is encountering a record in warmth. Their main claim, she reads her notes, "It's summer's weather when we're in autumn." She briefly gulps her saliva. "Indeed, the local heat reached 86°F (30°C) while 73°F (23°C) at night. IPCC's report is alarming, something has to change. Is the world government going to act ?" She quits her serious tone and changes the subject. "Local news; what's happening in Gotham today ?"
Ah, here you go. You turn up the volume.
"Earlier in the main avenue today, several store signs were vandalized by a group of masked men, it is thought to be perpetrated by an illegal organization. It's a real raid that happened, terrorizing the passers-by and owners. The identity of the delinquent stays unfounded. We know that the police department is currently working on..."
You mute the TV. Vandalizing stores, now ? They didn't even steal anything, who does that ? On the screen, a replay of surveillance cameras showing masked men running, pushing people and only stopping to draw weird shapes on a few of the stores. It's bad, but not quite as bad as your case. Putting the sound back, you're perfectly timed with the conclusion of the event.
"Where is Batman ? Has the vigilante abandoned our city ? We hope for his prompt return in time for him to apprehend the Joker."
Batman, right. You forgot that man was even existing. While some wonder who is hiding behind the mask, you're left questioning yourself on which side is he. If he's with the cops, is he a good or bad man ? Police is part of the problem, certainly. But Batman sometimes helps people, although you never encountered him yourself. But is he really with the police ?
Who is he working with ? And why is he what he is ?
"Whatever... You rub your eyes."
Why do you even keep thinking about that, it's not your problem anymore. You're leaving. Gotham has nothing left for you. Batman can do whatever he wants, for all you care. He doesn't know about your insignificant existence, why waste it thinking of him ?
But are you really leaving this place, though ?
Are you really about to leave your life and flee like a coward ? Yes, is the obvious answer. You could think about it, is the less obvious answer.
Yes, your life is at stake. On the other hand, Sean could really be useful as you're still in danger as long as you stay in Gotham, he's a considerable ally in this story. And not only Sean but his family as well could help you.
You know about his aunt. That woman is quite well known. A powerful gang chief. You could pay her to get escorted outside of Gotham. You're already indebted anyway, you have nothing to lose anymore. Moreover, nothing guarantees your safety once outside of Gotham. If the Joker is as feared as shown in the media, changing city won't be enough. Which is why you need to clear the problem directly from the root.
Okay, you won't lose anything in going, right ? Maybe your life, but it's worth a try. You'll join Sean. Yes, you'll join him.
When the time arrived, you couldn't shake that uneasy feeling taunting you all while preparing yourself. What if someone chases after you ? What if you get kidnapped ? You won't, of course you won't. Sean will be there when you arrive. He's dissuading enough. He's a big man.
You found yourself before the gigantic mall before even being able to process it. It was crowded, people entering and getting out every second. For a moment, your eyes search for Sean in the rabble only to find no one. He's probably inside, it's safer.
Tightly holding the hood stuck on your head, you stare intensely at whoever crosses your path, trying to gain enough courage to finally enter the building.
It's scary to be wanted, the displeasing impression everyone's looking at you is suffocating. You could get killed, right now. Abducted, even.
When the automated doors open, you're greeted by the cold air conditioning. It's autumn, why the hell would someone want to freeze to death ?
Checking your phone, there's still no sign of Sean. He couldn't possibly stand you up, right ? He's the one who insisted for you to come. It wouldn't be logical. He's just late.
You can't really afford to be waiting in your situation, every second matters. You don't know what will happen. And, yeah, you're kind of starting to freak out. You don’t know where your wanted poster ended up. Maybe you’re already dead, and, shit, you're alone in such a vulnerable position. Fuck, why did you come ?
You’re trying to stay rational, thinking of every possibility as to why he’s not here. You nod your head to yourself, trying to ease your nerves. He'll come. You just need a little patience. He said he needed to prepare things beforehand, that's why he's late. He's late because he'll help you.
You miss the mall, it's been long since you last came here, too preoccupied with your two jobs. You used to like watching people but quickly stopped. First, you once or twice made an awkwardly long eye contact with a man who then wanted to beat you up for provoking him, "like a pussy". Then, the second reason is that people are just... Mean. You'd look at a pretty woman only for her to spit on the ground. In the street is already disgusting enough, but the mall ! You'll look at a man hugging a woman, just to realize that they both don't know each other and that he's drunk out of his mind.
Maybe you do need to get out of here, actually.
Your phone still hasn't buzzed, you need to do something with your body or you’ll go crazy. It’s obvious staring daggers at your device every second won’t help. He's not here yet, you need to accept it and wait. You'll walk a little to not get noticed, your tensed and motionless body language is screaming suspicious and people are starting to side eye you.
It’s only natural of your legs to start bringing you to the places you used to go to, only to realize that one of your favorite stores closed permanently. Of course, with the crisis. It’s not surprising.
"Fucking morons..." Mutters a man to your left. Upon looking in his direction, you meet the owner of the voice standing on a stepladder, trying to energetically scrub with a sponge his store's sign. Key word being 'trying' as it's not successful.
Right, earlier's vandals.
He's cursing to himself, scrubbing progressively more aggressively the almost intact big black 'O' tagged on the sign mocking him.
"Can I know who did that? asked your curiosity.
-Fucking assholes, he answers without even looking your way, that's who did that.
-What do they looked like ?
-No idea, he grumbles. They all had that stupid mask on. All white with some blue and red. No idea what that was supposed to be. Ask the other owners if you're so interested, but you're late. Journalists already left.
Oh, right. He thinks you’re a journalist.
-Thank you, have a nice day sir.
-Yeah yeah…”
You heard several stores were vandalized, where are the others ? Letting your legs wander, you get your answer a few meters/feet away. A sign is hanging by an electric thread.
It’s a shoe store, but its signboard was now displaying a big black 'O'. You lift a brow, confused about its meaning. Usually, tag either insults or convey a message. Anyhow, there's a sense. Now though, you can't quite pinpoint it. O, what starts with an O. Optimism, oppression, obedient omelette ? It can be anything. Maybe it's not a letter, but a signature?
Two stores away (you see it out of the corner of your eye) another of these is vandalized, this time, a bold 'B' was written. What word could this correspond to? B for Batman ? It's not a word, mostly a name. Baby, maybe. Bomb, bag, anything. Hell, it could even be badminton for all you know.
Next letter is directly after the previous one, a 'S' hiding the dress logo the sign was exhibiting prior. The paint is dripping a little and one or two drops can be seen on the ground.
"Those damn scum." a man grumbles, who you think might be the owner of the poor store. He crosses his arms on his chest, looking up disapprovingly.
You ignore him, now thrilled by all of this. You want to discover all the tags. It's not like you have much better to do anyway. Sean still hasn't answered you. You know what to do to wait: find words for each letter. S makes you think of sabotage, skull and soup.
You see the next letter from afar, this time, an "E" welcomes you. Though, this one was partially erased. You guess the owner found the right product. It's now possible to read the sign and enjoy the sweet sight of what seems to be a sex shop sign. Is it even legal ? There's kids coming into this mall. Anyway, a lot of words start with E; Electric, Ebola, education, eagle.
You don't find the next letter right away, needing to walk a little to find it. But when you do, you're weirdly excited. It's just a bunch of words on some signboards, yet, it's fun. Like an orienteering race. But mostly because you don't get to have much fun today, and this being out of your quotidian, it's easy to be ecstatic.
Further away, it's not one but two letters that greets you; two "S", entwined like snakes. Shit, is it a nazi kind of tag ? It looks like the police's symbol there was back then. If that’s the case, you don’t find this as exciting as before. Not a good thing to write. There's already so much chaos here, you pray nazis are not going to be added to it. You think of the word 'Swiss' for this letter.
Next letter is an 'I'. Investigation, investment, ice. A woman bypasses you, hitting your shoulder with her. You squeal out of surprise, the woman doesn't even notice you. What a shitty town. You check your phone again, making sure Sean didn't try to contact you. No reply.
Walking ahead, the next vandalized store needs you to turn to the left to be seen, it's an 'O', again. But you don’t have the time to think of words that you already see the next letter. It’s a ‘N’. Night, Nemo (as in the movie) and nuisance. You already found words starting with ‘O’ anyway. It seems to be the last one as you walk and turn but no others appear. Disappointment lingers, sad it ended so soon.
What is it, does it form a word at the end ? Like street art ? Maybe, a shame you already forgot all the previous letters. It was fun, though. You'd do it again, it's entertaining. Like a track game where you follow a path. Vibrations are bringing you back to reality, rushing to take it, you rotate to leave the place in order to find somewhere calmer. In your haste, you bump straight into someone. You freeze for a second, phone in hand.
They’re wearing a mask, a clown mask on their black hair. And a really ugly one. It’s shiny, like plastic and it surely is. Their eyes are the only thing you see through the holes. Whoever that is is staring right into your damn soul. Their eyes are empty, so empty you might think they’re on some kind of drug. The big red nose in the middle of their face is mocking you, laughing at you to be scared of something so ridiculous. Two small tufts of green hair are standing on each side of his head, the false bloody teeth drawn on the mask is the final touch that tells you to leave.
“Sorry.” you mumble, avoiding eye contact.
Your hands are holding your phone so tightly that fear strikes you that you could actually break the screen. The clown does not move when you walk past him, and you realize right then and there that they were well too close to you for it to be normal. You hate clowns, you hate them so much. All of this because of that stupid Joker. That person probably wasn’t even related to him, maybe he was one of the vandals. You don’t know, you don’t want to.
When you pick up Sean’s call, he apologizes for being late and plans an area for you to meet. You’re before the sex shope tagged by the “E” by the time Sean joins you. You’re not as convinced as before to destroy the problem from its root after the clown encounter. You’re not a hero, not a criminal. You’re nothing, you don’t have anything to prove to anybody. You should leave.
“You okay ? You look like you saw a ghost ? He laughs, but he’s not your friend so you don’t.
-So ? Got out much more coldly than you intended it to be.
-Jeez, you’re impatient. I’ll help you, I told you I would, right ?
You did, doesn’t mean you really will. You cross your arms on your chest, approaching him for him to hear you more clearly.
-Do you have any information ? Ways to get me out of here ? To resolve this ? Anything ?
He sighs, stepping back as if you’re the plague and looking elsewhere in the crowd. He seems conflicted, forehead creased by his worry.
-I can’t tell you now, walls have ears.
-Then why the fuck would you tell me to join you here ? If you’re so scared to be spied on, we could have continued this discussion at my place.
Your tension is building up. It’s fucking frustrating to talk with him. He starts teasing you with interesting information, then, he retreats and acts as if nothing happened and you’re just impatient. He told you to come here, he told you he’d help you.
-At least answer my questions, you plead, I don’t even know who… Who is the Joker ? Who is he exactly ? He physically tensed, his shoulders literally hunched forwards. What the hell ?
-Well, uh, it's complicated.
Damn, even that couldn’t be answered. Why are you still here ?
-What do you mean it's complicated ? Is he a terrorist ? A thief ? A gang leader ? A serial killer ? It's a simple question.
-He's a little bit of everything, truly.
Why does he always seem so nervous talking about him ?
-Sean for the love of God, he’s not here ! people are starting to look in your direction, but you couldn’t care less. You can calm down, he won’t kill you ! You gotta breathe a little, man. Aren’t you the one who literally told me he wasn’t after me ? It’s not the first time you’re lying to me and I’m starting to lose it. Why am I here ? Tell me, why are we fucking here if you’re not gonna help me ! Who is this man and what does he want ? Why does he want to kill me ! It’s…” a gunshot whistles in the air, cutting you in your sentence straight away, screams erupting from all sides.
Your body acts before you can think, throwing yourself on the ground. It’s hard to understand what’s going on, but in a way, you don’t try to. You get up quickly and lose yourself in the running and yelling crowd. Your paranoia is not helping, was this gunshot aimed at you ? Sean is somewhere in the mall, but it’s too late. You gave him a chance, he wasted it.
Another gunshot echoes, followed closely by the sound of a glass breaking. Your senses are overwhelmed; names, insults, orders are being yelled. Is the Joker here ? You need to get out of here, now. Bodies are pushed against yours, your clothes are being tugged on. But when you were about to reach the exit, someone harshly grabs you out of the crowd, pulling you aside. It’s panic in your head, survival instinct kicking in. You yank your arm out of the person’s hold but freeze upon seeing Sean threaten you with a gun.
“Sean, you start with a shaky voice, what the fuck ? his eyes are cold, you don’t recognize him. He looks at you as if you're nothing, as if you're no one.
-He’s here, he states, looking paranoidly to the sides. He’s… He’s going to kill me if I don’t bring you to him.
-Bring me to who, Sean ? But you fear you might already know.
-The Joker.
Of course he’d betray you. Who are you kidding ? You knew, you knew he would trap you. Your eyes can’t leave the sight of the gun barrel, following each of its movements. He’s shaking, you realize. Is he scared, hesitating ? Or motivated by a hatred so pure he can’t even control his own feelings ?
-Sean, you try nonetheless, he’ll kill you either way okay ? He’s a sadist, we can… you gulp, throat suddenly burning dry. We can leave together, we’ll leave the city and…
-You don’t understand, do you ? He’ll track you, he’ll track us down. And then, he’ll slaughter us like pigs. You hear me ? He’ll slaught…
-I get it ! I get it ! you scream, shutting your eyes in order to erase those images from your head.
How can you even change his mind ? You doubt he��d fold with some speech about your friendship. It’s not like you two were that close to be honest. Sure, you liked him but that changed since the beginning of the Joker catastrophe.
-He promised me money, he explained himself. As if you’d forgive him after hearing his justification. A lot of money. You can’t understand what it’s like to… when you see him lower his weapon, you interrupt him, drived by your anger.
-How can you be so stupid ? He was, he truly was an idiot for believing the Joker. You haven’t known that beast for long, but each time someone defined him, it was always along the lines of wicked, treacherous, vicious and ruthless. So yeah, he was stupid. Was your life worth something as insignificant as money ? Has he ever liked you ?
-Shut up ! I’m done living like a fucking tramp !
Tramp is a big word coming from him, daddy pays him everything ! You’re tired of his tantrums, he is a grown man, ten or fifteen years older than you and he’s acting like a child. Suffering is your quotidian as well, but you would’ve never betrayed him. In fact, that is your problem. You’re not a scumbag like him, that’s why you can’t stand him. You have no value similar to his, if he even has some. By what right does he think he can use you to get, what, a few dirty money ?
If you're going to die, at least you'll die telling him every resentment you had towards him.
-You think I am happy ?! Your life’s better than mine ! Fuck you Sean, you’re an asshole ! You’re a fucking asshole ! You’re the one that should die !
-Shut the fuck up you whore !
A burning pain sliced through you along a sharp sound, legs losing all strength and making you fall on the ground. Your ears are ringing and your breath is cut for a few long seconds. What happened ? Is the first question popping in your head, but the atrocious pain coursing through your leg answers you. Your hand touches your hurting limb, but retreats it instantly at the pain. So you look down.
Blood, there’s blood everywhere.
It’s yours. It’s… It’s your damn blood, you’re bleeding. You have a hole in your leg and it’s gushing out blood. He shot you. Fuck, oh God, oh God, you’re bleeding. You’re fucking bleeding and it hurt like hell. It hurt so damn bad, why, why did he do that ? Your eyes are stinging and soon, tears fall down your cheeks. Are you going to die ? Here ? With nothing accomplished ? Alone ? Shot by the only man you thought was your friend ?
-I believe alive was written on the contract.
You recognize that voice, you hear it in your nightmares.
-Joker ! I… She tried to run away, I had to immobilize her !
It’s weird, your body is exhausted, yet, the pain is keeping you well awake. Your head is heavy when you lay it on the dirty ground of the mall. Eyes trailing slowly to the two men talking. Finally, he’s here before you. He’s shown himself. Even if it’s only the second time you see him, you talked and heard about him so much these past hours it feels like you’ve been with him for months. And maybe you were, in a way. Sean walks past you, not glancing towards your drained body on the ground. He’s scared of him. He plays the big man with you, but he’s a little bitch.
How is Sean, a man built like a fridge, so terrified of someone so ridiculous as the Joker ?
Who is he ?
The pain in your leg makes it feel numb and at the same as alive as it never been. The Joker sighs exaggeratedly, he tilts his head to the side to look at you. Shivers shake your whole body. Is that it ? This is the man who’ll abduct you ? You’d rather get killed instantly.
-And right on Valentine’s day...” mumbles the Joker.
It’s not, it’s autumn. Valentine’s day is in February, in winter. From your position, police sirens are heard and red and blue lights are flashing, reflecting on the windows. The Joker takes out a gun out of his long purple jacket and aims it towards Sean.
“Please ! He yells. I-I did what you wanted ! She’s here, please don’t kill me ! I’m a hitman, I’ll work for you !
Is he, now ? He's barely a barman.
-Do I look like I'm searching for employees ? He asks, opening his arms and bending his hands for his palms to face the ceiling before looking around him for confirmation. Because I’m not.”
You're torn between relief and horror at the sight of Sean falling to the ground after another gunshot, bathing in his own blood. He did betray you, he brought you here, he brought this upon you, upon himself. But he’s dead. You wished him to, but now that he is you’re horrified.
It’s then that you realize that The Joker is surrounded by his masked goons. Probably the one who vandalized the store, now that you think about it. You walked right into his trap.
“Well ? What are you waiting for ? he asks almost comically. Bring the package to the car !
When several men surrounds you, you're left yelling and fighting to get out of their holds, in vain, of course. The blood gushing out of your hurting limb isn't helping much, anyway. You feel your strength slowly evaporate from you.
Shotguns echoes, but your ringing ears prevent you to precisely locate it. Soon, they throw you in the back of a car and close the door, leaving you in the dark.
Gotham killed you.
#heath ledger joker#Joker#ledger joker x reader#ledger joker#heath ledger joker x reader#the dark knight#vitzi9writings#i am losing it
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“Toji is bum” agenda is so funny to me, like 😭he’s so silly 😭 But honestly, I don’t feel he is like bum fr, he got money but he’s just has poor money management skills and gambling addiction ☹️ He is greedy for sure and I think he’s stealing shit, but I feel that if he’s into you fr he gonna spend racks on you 😔 like that nails gonna be done! I want to believe that he gonna spoil you with all that money that he stole or scammed from someone 😔
No facts, thoo bc he's GOT money (enough for him and the kids to live in an apartment together, so like), mf just doesn't know how to CONTROL on how to spend it, hence the gambling addict he is 🫤🫤🫤 but awwwww nah fr, when he's into you — like really feeling you — he'll put in the effort to spoil you bc he really likes you, like trying to figure out what flowers you'd like, what your favorite foods are, anything!! Bc when he's feeling you, he wants to make sure you feel happy and/or taken care of by him. And LMFAOOO I don't think he'd scam ppl per se, more like steal money from the wallets of ppl he's killed like some "extra tip" for himself, which he'll use to treat you somewhere, how romantic 🤧🤧💘💘💘
#“toji is a bum” bye that's falseeeee (to an extent bc he don't got no job outside killing)#he does not live in a cardboard box cmon y'all don't do my man dirty 🤧🤧🤧#𝑯𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊 ⚛ 𝑨𝒕𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒄 𝑨𝒔𝒌𝒔
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General!Ticci Toby HCs. . .
This took longer than expected . . Read till the end for a lil blurb <3 reminder ! English isn’t my first language.
—Clothing;
It depends on how old Toby is.. at first he only wore the clothes Slenderman “found” him in and whatever other articles of clothing he was able to scavenge up. It wasn’t until a few years later he felt safe enough to venture out and buy some clothes from the thrift. (with stolen money cuz bitch don’t get paid to be a lumberjack,,, a human lumberjack that is.)
I’m so bad at describing; just think of Will Graham's season 1 outfit n shit. 😭 I feel like he’d probably dress like a grandpa. Oversized Grandpa sweaters, those button-ups/dress shirts under w collars that peep out, any baggy pants in general. Work/toe steel boots >> .
He just doesn’t bother much w dressing up! It’s also so he doesn’t stand out much whenever trying to go somewhere in public — sometimes he’d get lucky and find band tees of bands he likes or Jeff lets him borrow some of his own.
—music;
A firm believer that he loves metal. Something about the chaotic-icy helps him “soothe the voices.” his favorite bands would be Sevendust, Rammstein, and Lamb of god!
Once when he was on a mission he accidentally broke into the wrong house and lucky him it was a middle-aged white dad who had a thing for 2000s rock and metal. Killed that fucker and stole as many albums and CDs as he possibly could :p.
He’d DIY a bunch of studded leather bracelets and give a few away to Natalie and Jeffery. Gifting is his love language tbh
—interests;
Most residents of the manor (when he ‘lived’ there) don’t/didn’t know much about Toby since he doesn’t bother socializing much. He seems pretty disinterested to the rest but the dude really has some great hobbies and things he enjoys. For one he loves crafting, especially wood carving! He also has a habit of collecting animal bones/remains to clean and use them as decor. His favorites prob have to be fox skulls :). Very much a trinket collector as well. Just a odd man :3
Besides hobbies, oddly enough he enjoys Sanrio-related things—specifically cinnamon roll. (Since it’s the only character he knows,) he will convince you that the cinnamoroll is a bunny, not a dog. He refuses to accept that the little cartoon character is not a bunny as he first assumed. Of course he likes music music,, he’s given poetry a chance, isn’t the great at it but really enjoys it!
—Biography;
Toby is Dominican-German. His mom was Dominican while his dad was German! He’s fluent in Spanish and somewhat broken German. Around 5’9 to 6’0 foot tall. Late teens and early twenties he was more scrawny than anything but after 13 years of labor and trying to survive he obv grew some muscle mass and like… isn’t built like a 17-year-old boy idfk. Ofc, he was born on April 28th 1994. Toby grew up in more southern states (specifically Alabama) and has a slighht southern accent.
—Proxy experiences;
Toby is a runaway proxy; one of the very few that managed to escape Slendermans (or the operators, depending on which) grasp. Though he isn’t exactly safe cuz of this, If he gets too close to the terrority of Slenderman or the operator he starts developing symptoms and illness. Course the main being static n amnesia, waking up in random places covered in blood, etc. Toby can’t feel pain so the static doesn’t cause immense headaches but it’s dangerous for that exact reason; he can never tell when his nose starts to bleed or his ears rupture.
Toby only got involved with the operator in his later years (maybe around midish late 20’s) when he was in the minced of escaping Slenderman, and just so happened to meet Tim Wight. He spiraled into a REDACTED hell hole from there.
—Love interest(s) ?;
Oh boy, , it really depends on how quirky im feeling. Ticciwork and TicciJeff tbh. He loves ppl with no sanity 🫶🫶 Thankfully Jeff isn’t involved with Slender because he’s too much of a loose cannon to be controlled, much like EJ, the rake, seed, smile, grinny, etc. and Slenderman doesn’t take interest in Clockwork but since she has connections with some of slendermans valuable tyrants and or proxies, the entity leaves her be.
Jeff was the one to help Toby escape slenderman, and snapped him out of his “devotion” era. Clock is just amazing girlfriend and always there for him :p.
extra . . . .
[ REDACTED ! ! ]
This Deja vu feeling haunts him. He doesn’t understand why he’s being searched for. Why do the cops know who he is? Why is he? Who was he?
Childhood didn’t exist. Was he always grown ?
Why is it when he passes down that neighborhood, it feels so nostalgic . Nothing left but ashes and decaying foundations of homes, homes that were once were preoccupied by happy families. He call still smell the remains of the burnt buildings. Strange. It’s like he could never forget.
Jeff always went quiet whenever they were talking and the topic of this neighborhood was brought up, does he know something the EX proxy doesn’t?
What’s more confusing is that fateful night with Natalie, he found himself driving down a dark road that one night. It shared similar sentiment much like the abandoned neighborhood, only much more sinister. He was with Clocky, Pretty brunette with a clock for one eye,, the other an odd emerald green. Over time, the twitchy man taught himself to read clocks just so he wouldn’t have to check his phone for the time. Natalie’s eye always went tick tock, tick tock.
It was only him and Nat against the world at that moment,, so who was the mauled looking blonde in his rear view window? Sitting in the back of his car as well, it was strange. Jeff usually hoarded up the back seats. . He wouldn’t share it with a victim.
But it isn’t just a victim. Toby found himself struggling to catch his breath, who is she? Nat. It’s not Nat. It’s not Jeff. It’s just some blonde girl. A young adult that resembles someone he doesn’t know. Does he know ? ? ?
Who is she?
What was once a soft and familiar safe touch was now ghostly and evocative ? ?
Everything is blurry around him. He doesn’t hear her asking if he’s okay.
He doesn’t feel her cold touch, her hand covering his on the steering wheel.
One moment he’s on the road
The next he’s out cold
.
What caused him to swerve into that tree ?
Why did he put their lives at risk ?
.
Panting. He heard harsh panting. Was that him? Was that her? His hands were completely thrown off the steering wheel and replaced with paler, somewhat smaller ones. Not so gentle though. Something warm was dripping down from his nose. Metallic scent wafted and clogged his nostrils. He licked his lips and wasn’t surprised to be met with blood - he looked in the rear view mirror - NO BLONDIE IN SIGHT
He looked out the window. Did he just barely manage to swerve away from that tree? No. He didn’t save their lives. He looked to his right. A singular green eye met his. She’s unharmed, unlike REDACTED but shooken up. What brought him back to his senses was that familiar disoriented voice.
“Toby, what the fuck ??”
#creepypasta#slenderverse#marble hornets mention#the operator#Tim wright mention#Ticci Toby#Tobias Rodger’s#Ticciwork#Toby x clockwork#ticcijeff#Toby x Jeff the killer#headcannons#sourcemates#Sanrio#cinnamoroll#the slenderman
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Hi! If you’re a foreigner looking at France right now (march 2023), you could wonder: “WTF is happening there?!”
I’m French, so let me explain (from what I understood, thanks to friends’ explanation and researches on my own, the government things are not very clear, perhaps on purpose).
If you have no clues, there are currently a lot of demonstrations (and some riots) and strikes. Some are violents and some are peaceful, depending, but I’ll come to that later. First of all: why? Because of a reform on the retirement, basically.
You may think, well, going from 62 to 64 years old don’t seem excessive, right? But that’s only the visible part of the iceberg actually. First, that move was explain by the government by saying it will avoid the collapsing of the system (of retirement).
HOWEVER, the minimal age of retirement, 64, can only be 64 if you have:
-- a full career (without any unemployed time, and/or part-time work)
-- began to work early (like 16/18 years old)
-- your 43 annuities (basically, it means that you have to work 43 years, if I understood clearly)
With all being wrote, it means that for a majority of French ppl, counts don’t had up: most of the ppl will have to work until around their 65-67 years.
Moreover, if you leave before the minimal age of retirement (which will be 64), you will not receive entirely your retirement money.
We were told that that reform will allow to save the French pension system --as it will allow to augment the retirement money up to 1200€ (euros). But the money can be took somewhere else, like in the super riches pockets for example, by taking them up to something like 2%, for the system to be fiable.
Furthermore, only a minority of French people will obtain these 1200€, as you need a full career without any stop in it to gain it. So that reform penalizes everybody, especially precarious people and women.
That’s why a lot of people are angry right now in France.
On top of that, Elizabeth Born, the French Prime Minister (she is just under the French president in the power ladder in France), pass that reform against the Parlement agreement, using the 49th article of the constitution, paragraph 3 (we call it “49.3″).
That’s why we are angry. That’s why we demonstrate. That’s why there are strikes.
Most of them are non-violent, or at least, the violence don’t come from the demonstrators, but rather from the police officers --who seems to think they have all the rights because they wear the uniform. There are some police brutality (and if some French see that and needs some advices in case of police arrestations, I can provide them).
There are also some riots and some thugs who breaks windows and/or stole things and/or deteriorates things / urban furnitures, but it’s not the majority of it (despite what BFM TV claims) (btw, be careful of what you’re watching, some images show the demonstrations as riots).
A lot of young people participates in these demonstrations, because it’s our future that’s at stake. We’re angry. We’ve had enough. All our life (I take my case as an example, for context, I’ll be 20 this year), we’ve been told our planet is dying, that we won’t be able to own a house (after the 2008 economic crisis), and now that we’ll have to work until our old age? We say: that’s enough. So we’re revolting.
(some of us even say it’s time to guillotine Macron, to do a remake of 1789)
Some of us use the energy of the desperation, because they have nothing to lose, which make them unpredictable (and maybe dangerous).
That’s what’s happening, basically.
#france#what's happening#réforme des retraites#french retirement reform#french pension reform#french pension reform explained#french#french demonstrating#french strikes#french revolting#young revolting#genz had enough of old politicians shit#manifestations françaises#mars 2023#réformes des retraites#gen z revolting#sam covers french news
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OH YEAH I CAME IN HERE TO SAY SOMETHING RIGHT. so. i just answered an ask about jake on my blog and had an Idea TM. i'm p sure we've talked about how jake at this point largely doesn't do things for himself unless he can reason it out as something for the system as a whole (i.e. cab business, making money for them). And i had a revelation that he probably did that with his clothes, his hat, his facial hair preferences. Told himself it was to make himself look different enough that ppl wouldn't so immediately recognize him as being the "same person" as Marc and Steven. But when he puts on the hat, and his suit, his gloves, when he really looks like him. Like Jake. It's more affirming and comfortable than anything in the world. Thinking about the first time he picked out his own outfit from Marc and Steven's pieces, trying to turn it into something different, something him. The first time he stole bought his own clothes for himself, getting a suit fitted at a tailor, to his liking . brb c r y i n g
Screaming and flailing my hands at you.
Because yeah. The way he dresses is so distinctly different from Marc and Steven. His dress shirt stays cleanly tucked, buttoned up to the neck. His tie's been tightly knotted by a practiced hand. His pants have been tailored, the jacket perfectly fitted to his exact frame. There's nothing sloppy about the way he looks, it's professional without being overly flashy. It's very personal, very Jake. It's such a contrast to Marc's simplistic, monochrome wardrobe, Steven's goofy patterned shirts.
And then there's facets of it that serve a more specific purpose. The gloves, which symbolically create more of a distance but are also practical: he wouldn't leave fingerprints, not in his car, his own weapons, not even anywhere in that hospital. His collar, pulled up high against his neck, and his hat, pulled low over his face. When he walks, he hangs his head a bit, and the two cast a shadow over his features. It's subtle, but intentional.
He protects himself from being seen, but he's also protecting Marc and Steven from being associated with what he does. Jake's a man that lives in their shadows.
It's a theme that I often relate to whether or not he'll end up getting his own armor. Because if he does, and it ends up being the black and white suit like I hope, it's a cool opportunity to incorporate the theme of shadows and darker undertones into that costume.
#i'm also always screaming about the costume detail on the collar slkdgjslkjg#like that was such a cool little thing the costume designers added i love that#i know the different suits for different alters is not everyone's favorite#but there's a lot of connections to be made there for him i think#something something marc and steven wearing white and always having a presence#something something black darker details in jake's armor because he's lived moreso in the shadows#i'll flesh that idea out eventually#mockspector#asks#mk meta
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what was up with banks when hank first fought the boombox guy (plus the other 30 dudes)? was he there watchin from the sidelines? was he somewhere else when he got the news his brother fought so many ppl out of the blue n began this domino effect of mayhem? what were his thoughts/feelings if he did have any about the situation?
He was probably living in some abandoned warehouse. He didn't care what Hank did, for Banks already knew Hank wanted to kill people for a living. If that's what Hank wants to do for money, then that's his deal. It's whatever he wanted to do for himself. As long as it puts food on the table for them. Banks did not have a job yet, so he only hid out in secret and stole food once in a while. Probably spent time cleaning up the abandoned warehouse for the two to live in (well, only to find out Hank was moving in with some new guy who hired him just now anyway).
You see, Hank was the one who introduced Doc to Banks for hire as a house painter (and later, Banks became his housekeeper), but we're not really sure if Hank knew Doc at the point of Madness Combat 1. So if this was before being hired by Doc, then Banks would still be living in an abandoned warehouse with Hank. If this was after, then Banks would be living alone in the warehouse, and soon enough, Hank would take Doc over to Banks and introduce Banks as another man for hire. As for how he feels about it... he probably wouldn't think much of the park incident. It would feel like a one-off thing to him, just another thing Hank did. Remember that thing that Hank did once? Yeah, classic Hank.
Here's a little short thing I wrote about Hank becoming a mercenary for the first time, in Banks's perspective:
When Hank and I were going around, looking for a new home, we were strapped on funds. I think we were both pretty used to the on-the-move lifestyle though, considering all the times we snuck out to the city.
But as Hank gazed out to the city as we wondered what we could do about it , I could see something spark in his eyes. He turned to me, and I could see that he had his answer through his face.
That’s when Hank told me he was going to start killing people for hire.
I never really thought he would actually pursue that kind of life. I knew he loved that kind of stuff, secretly cheering on the people when we watched fights happen, shaking me hard when the final blow happened, and then testing the moves on me (which I learned to counter eventually). But still, Hank knew this life was nothing to go back from, and I knew he wouldn’t want to anyway. I tilted my head, prompting him to stare back at me. His eyes told of his confidence. A hard glare, before he slowly nodded.
….
If that’s what he wants, then I won’t stop him. If he knows he can make us the money… then it would be kind of stupid if I stopped him. I watched him go off into the streets, before laying back down in our little hole of the alleyway, wondering if I’ll see him again.
….
I felt someone shaking me hard, and I rolled over to look. It was Hank, covered in blood and bruises, but he held up a wad of cash.
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yr brain? galaxy level. i wanna hear all ur lore and stuff
you know what ? im gonna write the basic plot for soogas backstory here now too-
- his parents were both sheikah soldiers serving the royal family, they were nearly never home so he barely even knew them and was pretty much living on his own from a young age on
- they both died while on a mission far away, but that didnt change much for him other than him having to find a way to earn money himself now
- when he was a teenager he was recruited by the royal family (he wanted to tho) which is also where he met Hibiki (my only real zelda Oc .. sorry gotta involve them now- this is how they look, although they are older here than when sooga first met them
i think i forgot to post this on tumblr lmao; anyway they are an artist and a bit older than sooga)
- since they were both outcasts with no relatives that cared about them they quickly became friends (tho it was def more one sided at first bc Hibiki is a way more extroverted ) tho Hibiki has been a bit longer in the army so they rarely went on missions together and only hung out during breaks or when they had both time off
- even after years of training they both stayed in the lower ranks of the army and never managed to climb to a higher one, part of the reason was that Hibiki didnt do a good job of being a spy, not bc they were detected, they just never had much information to report for some reason and Sooga always defended them when they got bullied by higher ups for it (you know how he threatens ppl) which in turn made him less liked and got him almost kicked out once (and yes, Hibiki did have a crush on Sooga but he never realized that even tho they made it REALLY obvious)
- you know the story how link got appointed as zeldas bodyguard ? with him deflecting a laser from a malfunctioning guardian to protect the princess ? yeah, so in my hc, while he did deflect it it didnt straight up hit the guardian back but rather was simply redirected and although Hibiki tried to pull Sooga away it still hit the left side of his face which is how he got that big af scar and lost his eye
- he survived and of course Hibiki was there to take care of him whenever they could, but the more time went on while he recovered it was made clear that the higher ups wanted to kick him out of the army after his wound healed bc they didnt think he was fit to fight anymore missing an eye (thats what they said but it was pretty obvious they just wanted a reason to get rid of him)
- Hibiki reassured Sooga they would do everything they could to convince them otherwise bc they knew that all he ever wanted to do is be a strong and respected soldier serving the royal family, but who would listen to the worst spy in the whole army .. he got kicked out anyway of course and was forced to work as a farmer (more like help other farmers really)
- from then on Hibiki was trying to be a better spy, so they could earn enough respect to maybe get the army to welcome Sooga back into their ranks
- but one day when Sooga returned from some field work he noticed a new grave at the corner of the village, and asked who died, it took some time for him to find out it was Hibiki who fell in battle bc after they left the village they never returned so the other villagers forgot even their name, the army brought their body back into the village since they were borne there and didnt have any living relatives
- that was what pushed his resentment for the kingdom and the other sheikah over the edge really, he stole some ancient hidden away sheikah scrolls from the elder of the village and used them to teach himself some techniques ... or at least TRIED to, the only one he was able to manage was a half functional clone, which he used to fake his death and live a live in the shadows, staying away from settlements out of fear of beign recognized
- he made his way into the gerudo desert where he never went to before, and in a cold night snuk undetected into the yiga hideout in the search for shelter since he wasnt equipped for that kind o extreme weather .. tho he didnt realize what he just did
- in the morning he was found after all and, understandably, attacked bc wth how did that guy even get in here ?? after he managed to survive for pretty long given the circumstances, he tried to flee but was stopped by master kohga himself, and while kohga was monologing about .. stuff, Sooga realized this might be his chance to live a proper life again and that pretty close to what he always wanted, so he promptly asks to join them
- positively surprised kohga of course cant just accept him into the clan like that, i mean Sooga was wearing sheikah clothing and got UNDETECTED into their hideout and took a nap there for several hours before being found, thats suspicious as hell
- after being put through several tests and challanges he is accepted into the clan after all-
- now fast forward post calamity (just a few years tho) the topic of Soogas origins comes up and he tells kohga alot but is interrupted bc koh ask him if the friend he was talking about was “a kinda weird artist” ... turns out Hibiki died in a clash with the yiga clan and ... was killed by kohga himself.
- Hibiki always carried a sketchbook in a bag around with them, and the clan took it after their death bc they thought it might contain useful info, it didnt, but since the sketches in it where pretty good they kept it anyway even if it was only half readable since it got soaked in blood
- that is a reveal that tested soogas loyalty to the clan like nothing else could (everyone in the clan including kohga, was expecting him to turn against them again, but were still waiting for him to actually betray the clan)
- sooga didnt turn on them tho, reason was, he managed to seperate the pages of the sketchbook that were stuck together from blood and discovered finely detailed art of the hideout, of its interior too and even of kohga as well
- Hibiki never had much info to tell their superiors bc they snuk around the hideout when on a mission but never with the goal to rat the clan out. they secretly admired kohga and the clan, even wanted to join them for a long time, but never got to do it bc they didnt want to leave Sooga behind but also .. they were afraid to tell him bc he was so focused on becoming a good sheikah soldier they were sure he wouldnt feel the same; they were torn between wanting to join the yiga but afraid of destroying their friendship with sooga ..
when they got into that fatal fight with the clan, kohga didnt even attack them with the intend to kill and they could have easily dodged or parried the hit, the reason they didnt was, ironically, bc they were so stunned by admiration of seeing their idol right in front of them they didnt move a muscle until it was too late...
this got longer than i thought, maybe i went into too much detail here, but anyway this is a summary of the backstory i came up with for Sooga, it doesnt end here tho, this is more like the story of how sooga became part of the yiga; after all of this comes alot more tho it wouldnt make much sense to add that here too xD
sorry for the long af post, i hope its somewhat understandable ;__;
#ganondoodles answers#headcannons#zelda#botw#sooga#long post#and thank you#;__;#i know i answer way too few asks here#but be sure i always read and appreciate them#<3
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This is my 4x12 review - skip if you haven’t watched yet.💖
In my opinion the whole Treasure Hunt thing, had a S2 bank mystery vibe about it. Like the silly calm before the storm, again in parallel to right before when Buck was hurt.
I knew the Author jerk is alive the second I saw the actor who played it, the was not one show where he guest starred and wasn’t a jerk 😂😂
So since I did my own version of live writing, I apologize if this is a bit disorganized.
We got so much buddie bread crumbs, that eventually felt like a meal at the end of the episode so let’s start with: Both boys in sunglasses - oh WOW! 🔥🔥
Bobby sending Eddie with Chimney and Buck looking thoroughly unhappy to be separated from Eddie. They nod at each other and while Buck frowns at Chimney, Eddie crosses himself before going to get geared up.
It was a small gesture but very significant because Eddie has already crashed in a chopper (in 3x15 and watched Hen and Strand crash in the crossover) he knows what could go wrong.
Chimney’s “cheer up you can go next time” doesn’t really reassure Buck. I think a “we’ll be fine” or “I’ll keep him safe” would have calmed Buck’s nerves a lot more.
Can we discuss for a second how HOT!! Eddie looked doing the aerial rescue? I mean WOW, I watched it several times. 🥵🥵🥵
The 118 sitting together trying to figure out the riddle was funny, everyone thinking how it’s a bad idea to even consider this to be a real thing, except for Buck, of course. 😂
And while the others are already considering how freaking horrible the rest of their shift is going to be like, because it’s all over the news thanks to Taylor Kelly’s story.
Eddie called Taylor - Buck’s “girlfriend”, but we don’t see his face, we do get to see it, when Buck stresses (for what feels like the millionth time from the sigh and tone of his voice) that she is his friend not his girlfriend.
Eddie’s “Yeah, sure, right.” face is priceless!!😂😂
Buck and Taylor plotting together again, is always hilarious, those two are disaster magnets, it makes for good fun. What bothered me was that Buck offered Taylor to pair up, but re-watching, everybody’s reaction didn’t exactly originally encouraged a teaming up vibe.
However the problem with human nature is - everyone love to obsess over riddles. 😉😉
Eddie jumping through the window into the fire truck? epic!
Eddie did suggest to team up to Buck and I love that even after Buck told him he’s working with Taylor, the look on Eddie’s face melted Buck almost immediately and had him suggesting Eddie joins the two of them. 🥰🥰
The scene in Buck’s apartment, with the three of them Eddie is right between Taylor and Buck in the shot and kind of “talking to himself” was so funny. - Gave me a BBC Sherlock scene between Irene Adler, Sherlock and John.
The way Martin Freeman stole the scene just by dropping small comments. I gotta give it to Eddie, out of all of everything in that scene, Ryan performance is what I’m going to remember. - Acting choices were made all throughout this episode by both Oliver and Ryan.
Also can we talk about the fact that Eddie is now stating little bits of knowledge like Buck now - “I can know weird stuff too” from 4x03 is so haunting me, these boys have totally rubbed off each other. (get your minds out of the gutters... for now anyway 😉)
I love how Eddie and Buck sit down and scratch, just thinking about the fire ants 😂😂
Buck being lowered into the septic tank - notice, Eddie is the one handling the rope, again, his expression worried while Buck is still down there, especially after having to drop him into the water.
I have noticed that Bobby sent Eddie up in the chopper, but is reluctant to send him under ground still 😉🙃
Buck’s “come on” when Eddie and Bobby made a face and walked away from the stench was so funny. Also super adorable on Buck’s part.
I love how Taylor keeps shutting Buck down, it’s amusing to watch now that I know how the episode ends.
Athena being done with idiots the entire episode was hilarious! Angela is a queen!
I loved that 9-1-1 dispatchers were running a bet of places where the treasure may be. (Josh’s “Who thought that was a good idea?” and someone shouting “not it!” had me in stitches 😂😂)
Let’s take a break from buddie for a second:
Hen and Chimney joining the race and Bobby trying to hide his research from Athena was so funny, I mean, she is a police sergeant, there was no way she wouldn’t figure him out.
Bobby planning a future together, a life after the job, and Athena shutting him down. I do think this is what will come between them eventually. Athena making a unilateral decision, without considering even talking about a future with Bobby that doesn’t revolve around them working until they’re either forced out or buried six feet under ground.
I find it interesting because it’s usually the other way around, my mom has been working on my dad to retire for years now so they can travel before both of them are too old to do it. So I kinda get where Bobby’s coming from.
In parallel though, Athena making the unilateral decision like Eddie did when he re-enlisted in 3x15. I do hope Bobby and Athena manage to work things out, I love them together.
Back to the hunt:
Of course Athena worked out where the treasure is, Karen built an algorithm, and Taylor apparently helping Buck and Eddie figure it out bringing all three teams together.
Athena looking to Buck and Eddie asking them if they seriously brought their gear with them and Eddie pointing at Hen and Chimney to divert the attention from them about their med-kits. - like children trying to justify themselves to their parents. 😂😂😂
Wasting time negotiating about the money was hilarious, especially with Taylor in the chopper hovering over them lmao.
And then there was probie - Jesus! I laughed so much. 😂🤦♂️
Also Buck’s “I’m not doing anymore math”, as a reference to “she taught me math”, Buck’s not doing that shit. He calculated enough for one day and he is done! 😂
I do like that Oli and Ryan’s marks are closer together again ❣❣❣
Eddie: “We didn’t kill him”
Buck: “We just wanted to” Bobby’s “Shut up” face killed me.
Probie selling them out “I don’t know these ppl.” You don’t say shit like this as a probie 😂😂😂
Also Rick saying “I didn’t actually think it was” and I'm just enjoying the moment, was awesome. I like it when he shows up in episodes, he and Athena make a good and amusing team.
Back to buddie bread crumbs:
Everyone in Bathena’s house, including Taylor, who took the place next to buck, leaving Eddie to sit directly in front of Taylor and next to Chimney. - The “At this point I don’t trust anyone.” cuts to Eddie’s face, that looked as if he’s saying “Seriously dude? hurtful” - The fact that Buck stopped and met Eddie’s reproachful gaze even though they are not directly in front of each other says so much!
Also the “Stop for a second and think about what you said.” looks from Chimney and the others are very meaningful. (#everybody knows 😉) Buck sticking his foot in his mouth and him backtracking are shot directly from Eddie’s perspective. - hmm, I wonder why…? 🧐🧐
And to complete the meal:
Taylor placing Buck directly in the Friend-Zone category, was genius. And while Buck and Taylor have a fun energy together it never really felt romantically oriented. Also I have a certain feeling that seeing Buck and Eddie interact, at Buck’s place and at Bathena’s house and not for the first time either, she knows it will not work between her and Buck.
Buck, trying to feel something more for her, even if in a gentler and way sweeter way than the cursed ship I will not name, it feels forced on his end too - and Taylor lets him off the hook in a gentle way too, I like her for that even more.
I really hope we keep seeing Taylor in a friend capacity for Buck, I think it’s good for him to have support and someone to talk to outside the 118. And I will absolutely worship Taylor if she will be the buddie catalyst, I mean Megan does ship buddie too, it will only be appropriate 😉💖
The episode in itself was pretty nice, I would have probably enjoyed it more if I watched it before LS who absolutely kicked me in the feels today. But I do know that just like 9-1-1 2x15 I’ll go back and watch it like a million times because it is a fun episode to pass the time, and the buddie crumbs were delicious.
The promo kicked me in the feels too, I will not discuss it here right now, but I do hope that that last part won’t be a cliff hanger and we’ll have to wait an entire week for the rest, two weeks of frayed nerves are a LOT to suffer through 🙈
Sending big hugs out there to whomever needs it 🤗🤗🤗
#9-1-1 4x12#118 firefam#evan buckley#eddie diaz#buddie#the buddie crumbs were yummi#i want more of those#everybody knows#bathena#Henrietta Wilson#chimney han#taylor kelly#love her for friend zoning buck#now somebody get rid of the other pesky LI#i don't usually say this but#jealous!eddie#was everything#can't wait for the next episode#someone sedate me
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I just want to say as a someone studying political therory and politics in uni the dsmp as well as the fan base makes me want to cry lmao. The same ppl who use tommy stealing as a bad factor to his character are also the ones who are the first to defend technos anarchy and gov corrupt so let’s blow it up. I’m just trying to apply social contract to this whole thing and there is literally no consistency. And there’s no way to have a serious conversation with these people cause they read so far into the plot promote specific characters but at every counter argument they go it’s not that deep as a response. God my brain hurts so much. I would pay good money to have, or even just see someone have, a conversation with techno about how his whole anarchism/ libertarianism is any better then establishment when he has never actually come up with an alternative system. As well as his view of the social contract and Hobbes and the justification of working with dream when theoreticaly that goes against his whole thing. I know this makes no sense I’m so sorry I’m just in so much pain trying to make sense of all this and my brain has stopped functioning.
my friend im going to be so honest, i have very little ideas about politics, i’ve got a solid 68% in APUSH rn, but i will attempt to appear intelligent here. yeah i think the whole “tommy steals tommy bad” argument just so does not work. that’s literally the norm on this server. everybody steals. is it morally correct? maybe not but like,, on ranboo and foolish’s first days they were both mugged multiple times by multiple people. hbomb put up a social experiment ancient debris wall and fundy yoinked the entire thing. thats just how it be. people are very momentarily annoyed by the stealing but then they go A) steal whatever was stolen from them from someone else B) go kill the person who stole from them and then continue with their day C) just sigh and replace what was stolen. so the basis for what’s makes someone “bad” or “wrong” on the smp is completely different. but if you’re going to be mad at stealing, you have to be mad at murder and terrorism too.
i’ve seen a lot of takes about techno and his brand of anarchy that i am not smart enough to speak on but im pretty sure there’s something wrong there. yeah, a lot of people talk about how he destroyed the government and just didn’t give them any other way to function. like instead of being like “here’s an alternative system,” he just decided to throw the whole country away. um, i know he’s got stuff going on with his club or syndicate but i feel like that’s on hold until the egg thing gets squared away?? but yeah, the fandom has a lot of criticisms for techno’s anarchism and methods that don’t get brought up in canon because i don’t think the other creators know how to have that conversation, so if you just wanted to whitelist yourself and discuss w him that’d be poggers. i think tubbo and/or tommy have briefly brought up the flaw of A) saying you’re fighting against oppressive power while also being the most powerful person on the server and B.) teaming up with the other most oppressive power on the server. tubbo asked something along the lines of “doesn’t this make you kind of like a tyrant too?” to which techno responded “the ends justify the means” which is like ? okay mr blade?? and then tommy i think said something in the boat ride pre-festival about going against dream and techno was like “dream’s just an individual” and yeah idk my brain hurts too
please don’t stress yourself out thinking about this. take a break. take a nap. have a cup of tea. *hands you a picture of alex quackity* we’re gonna be okay
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Your ear post brought up a question I’ve had since the beginning and I’m curious what you think. Where did the ear cuff come from???? If 13 got her new clothes at a thrift store, is that where she got the ear cuff too? That seems too personal to 13 to find second hand though. So where else could she have gotten it?? Help me figure this out 🙏
I feel like there’s a lot of logical answer material here to point out that charity shops aren’t allowed to sell underwear and that she clearly gets herself a sports bra, so i Imagine Yaz took her to another store to buy one b/c she realised, in abject horror, that not only did this strange alien lady jump from one crane to another like 200ft in the air with no sense of self preservation at all... But that she did it with a Serious and painful case of no-bra-bouncy-boobs. If i found that out about somebody, I’d buy them a bra on the spot. Ow. So it's reasonable to conclude she'd been to another store before that scene.
I headcanon Yaz bought her a pity bra. Or if we want to make it more canon compliant considering 13 only says she has no money in the charity shop, that Yaz gave 13 one of her own. In a surprising moment of actual genuine truth i haven’t spent enough time staring at either of their chests to wonder if they’d pull off the same bra size, but some sports bras don’t come in proper bra sizing anyway and there’s more wiggle room so it’d probably work.
In which case, though... The ear cuff is actual decent jewelry, looks like real silver. I happen to know it’s a reasonably expensive piece of ear gear b/c i looked at the price once from the jeweler that made them aaaages ago.
So, you know.
She Absolutely stole it.
She had a whole week with nothing to do but mooch off a grieving grandad and grandson with no possessions but a sonic screwdriver and a mutilated old suit. She needed Something to do. Since when does the doctor do down time well? Sheffield has a sudden week long crime spree and the culprit was never caught. Yaz pretends not to see.
It’s like that throwaway line in the ghost monument, ppl are always crying murder that if she doesn’t have her tardis how did she have the shades that belonged to that famous person, but that’s not what she says!!! she says that those shades Reminded her of those other ones she once had, not that they’re the same ones. People heard the line wrong.
She stole those too. From that charity shop. Because the doctor is a thief and they reminded her of those old shades. Absolutely would not give a damn stealing in front of Yaz.
I actually feel like the most pertinent question here is actually How she got her ear pierced tbh... Did she walk past claires with yaz on that fateful bra shopping trip (where, frankly, she embarrassed the hell out of yaz lbr, she’d say Weird things on a crowded shop floor/bra fitting) and jump up and down like an excited puppy saying she wanted her ear done b/c yaz’s looks so good and go creep out the poor person doing the piercing?
Did she get it done only for it to heal Immediately b/c -regeneration energy- and said claires employee to get Exceptionally freaked out by this woman’s orange glowing ears that heal immediately only for 13 to cheerfully be like ‘oh... still not done cooking, i’ll come back in a few days’!!!!!!
or u know... curve ball... if she can regenerate with clearly bottle blonde hair, maybe this body came with pre-made piercings. time lords have done weirder crap that that, lbr.
i... maybe didn’t need to go that deep into this fjfddkdflfd
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Just curious ladies. What is your opinion (if you have one) of Tumblr these days? I only come here to catch up on your blog lately. Shipper wars and toxic fans have driven me from Twitter and now Tumblr. I am feeling increasingly with every season that being a reasoned, neutral fan who ships and lets ship is just nonexistent online now. Now ppl seem to think shipping a couple gives them an entitlement to how the story is written and legit get offended if it doesn't happen as if someone spit in their drink order right in front of them or stole their money.....I'm tired. Sam/Sarah vs Sam/Bucky (🙄🙄), Snowbats vs. Westallen (🙄🙄🙄🙄) and Iris stans vs. Iris haters, lord I can't even enjoy Killing Eve or WandaVision or Batwoman or Titans or virtually anything anymore because of the racism and pettiness. I have been in so many online fandoms over the years and have never been able to stay active in them because the pettiness gets so toxic. I always have to disengage and just be a quiet fan by my damn self or with my in person friends. It's so sad and frustrating how the internet has given millions of people the false sense that they are writers directors casting agents and producers like....sit over there and be a fan and shuddup! Anyway. Apologies for the rant. At times I feel like y'all are the only place left I can be on Tumblr that hasnt lost its marbles. Which is hilarious given the subject matter, but you all are fair, mature, thoughtful, have evidence to back up your shit and don't engage in the petty fuckery so. Here I am. The last island of grown folks left on this hellsite. Thank you for being here. 😫
We’ve been in enough fandoms to know the inevitably the fandom will ALWAYS ruin your viewing experience in one way or the other. It’s literally just a matter of time. You can make some of the best connections and have fun times but just know there is some bullshit just around the corner that will have you questioning why you ever joined the fandom to begin with.
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Mm so it starts off with Technobaker who decided to teach tommy to bake because the gremlin child wouldn’t get out of the kitchen so might as well get something good out of it
Tommy’s embarrasses about the fact that he enjoys baking, so only ppl close to him know. During the first era of lmanburg, tommy would sometimes bring in a bunch of cookies or brownies or cupcakes (or cake if it was a special event) and insists that he bought it at the store or found it on the side of the road, but wilby and Tubbs knew the truth (also eventually Niki put it together that he bakes because he brought cupcakes and swore he got them from Niki’s bakery, not realizing Niki was also in the group of ppl)
In pogtopia, you’d think he wouldn’t bake a lot cuz it’s just a fucking ravine, but he actually starts baking more. At first, it was cuz they had techno with him, so he worked w techno to improve his skill a bit, but eventually became a comfort thing, wanting to do something to distract himself from things like his older brother wanting to blow up l’manburg, his maybe brother killing his best friend with fireworks, Dream forever being inconsistent with whether he’s against tommy or with tommy, etc. etc. Also, whenever he baked anything, it would put a smile on Wilbur’s face, and for just a moment, everything seemed normal to tommy. He enjoyed every millisecond of those moments
After the Manburg-Pogtopia war, he’s kinda just stops. As much as it was a comfort thing, it only reminded him of his brother who’s now dead and techno who destroyed his country. However, Ghostbur remembered Tommy’s baking skill, it was always one of his favorite happy memories. You can imagine the pain of Ghostbur saying something like “Cmon Goldie! Why not make that one cookie recipe you always loved? It was techno’s favorite!” (Yes I am coping with current angst by creating different angst, what about it?)
Then of course the exile arc happens, which is enough pain as it is, and then the Raccoon Arc, that’s what I’m calling it at least. Techno, being Techno, stress bakes, and it was too tempting for tommy not to join in a help. (And on the note of Technobaker) some nights, when tommy had bad nightmares or panic attacks, techno would bring him out of Dnret, cuddle him up in one of his big ol capes, and make some warm chocolate chip cookies to cheer tommy up. If tommy had enough energy, he’d help so he could have a distraction from whatever was on his mind
Then, Doomsday, Dream fight, and Season 3. Pretty much I’ve decided tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo head to this place that close enough to the DreamSMP that they can still interact with any friends, but far enough that they don’t rly get involved in conflict. They just vibe and have healing arcs. And they live in a flower biome because I’m soft and I say so. Sam and Puffy constantly visit and hang out. Tommy has gotten over the pain w techno and comfort bakes again (because this child needs all the comfort he can get) Ranboo learns about tommys skill by waking up to the fire alarm going off and tommy yelling about something, and Tubbo just wrapped in a blanket bein like “mmm smells like lemoms” cuz he’s tommys best friend and it used to this.
At some point, Sam or Puffy bring up the idea of tommy opening a bakery in the dsmp, and tommy is very hesitant at first cuz man still embarrassed bout the fact he bakes, but after getting praise from all four of his found family, he’s like “yeh alright I guess I can get money from it” and then comes Big Innit Bakery
Niki and Jack are still trying to kill him (and after they learn he’s opening a bakery, Niki is just offended he stole her brand) but it’s in more of a Plankton from Spongebob style
I also bring you this doodle I did that inspired all of this
BLANKET BURRITO TUBBO!!! BLANKET BOY TUBBO‼️‼️‼️ THIS IS SUCH A CUTE CONCEPT OH MY GOD
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Just a Dream QnA [Finale]
The final answers all of us are looking forward to :)
This is the finale to my dnf fic “Just a Dream.” Please read that before seeing what’s below, because there will be many spoilers.
Thank you to all the readers that participated! Also a quick warning that this is very long, lol. Anyways, enjoy~
Let’s start off with what everyone’s wondering about… (I swear I never had any intention on making it this long, but I couldn’t help myself okay-)
Sweater Troubles: PLEASE. QnA. COME ON, YOU GOTTA TELL ME WHAT IMP GEORGE THOUGHT OF CLAY. LIKE, COME ON, MAN. I GOTTA KNOW HOW THEY’RE DOING OVER THERE AND HOW THAT MEETING WENT.
urs_mmarie: imp's first impression with clay and vice versa. how did clay react to suddenly meeting imp?
multifandom_psycho: clay and imp’s reaction to waking up after the switch?
chia_aa: How did Clay and Imp react to switching back? and are they happy together? (I really hope they are oh gosh-)
ryuuisnothere: what's imp first impression of clay and vice versa? when did imp and clay realize that the switch happened? how did they react to it?
George quietly watches as the other Dream sleeps, brushing away a blonde strand of curly hair on his forehead. “The other Dream.” Just saying the words brings him such a strange feeling of awe. It was just as he expected: the other George had found the other Dream for him, and they were currently in some sort of hotel room. George’s heart still aches a little, realizing he’ll never see Dream again. All he can hope for now is that, with their successful swap, Dream will do as he promised and confess.
George’s movement, though only a gentle touch, appeared to be enough to wake the other Dream. He slowly opens his eyes, asks in his sleepy voice, “George…?” and George is hit with a full wave of adoration. His voice is just like Dream’s, but more timid. More reserved. It’s the cutest fucking thing ever.
“You are so cute,” George says as much, grinning as he props his head up on one of his arms. The other Dream gives a shy huff at George’s comment, and George feels himself melt a little at how much… quieter he is, compared to Dream. “By the way, we uh… we switched.”
It seems to take a second for his words to register, but when they do, the other Dream’s eyes snap wide open. He sits straight up, blinking with a shocked expression. “O-OH.” A beat of silence. “You’re…?”
“I’m the original,” George confirms.
Clay visibles swallows, then he’s quickly moving away from George, a pained expression on his face. “I-I, sorry, I just—” his words come out in a jumble, sounding panicked and disappointed all at once. “George and I were, I mean, the other George and I were— we were…” he holds his tongue, looking torn. “We…”
George tilts his head curiously. “Are we dating?”
A bright flush crawls up the other Dream’s cheeks, and George nearly has a heart-attack, because wow. Okay.
Apparently this Dream blushes??
“I– yes. No. Well, the other George, I guess… we were? But,” Other-Dream only blushes harder as he tries to explain, “Y-you’re him, I guess, so… yeah? Sorry, I know this sounds confusing. It’s, uh, kind of hard to explain…”
George stops him before he can move any further away from him, placing a hand on the other Dream’s waist. “Does that mean I’m allowed to do this?” he asks innocently, and raising himself so that they’re at the same height, he places a single peck on the side of Blushy-Dream’s cheek.
“Uhhhh….” Other-Dream blinks at him, his entire face a bright tomato red as he tries to compute George’s actions. “UHH???”
George giggles at his reaction. “Sorry,” he grins, “Is that not what people in a relationship do?”
But because Shy-Dream still appears to have short-circuited from George’s kiss, George figures he’ll cut him a break and stop messing around. “I kind of got into a relationship with your other self,” George gets straight to the point. “And you’re basically him, so…” a shrug, “Go out with me?”
It takes a while, but slowly, the smallest of smiles appears on Other-Dream’s face. He rubs his eyes, still looking disbelieving. “Is this just a dream? Am I… am I dreaming?”
George takes that as a yes, and he cracks a smile. “I’m assuming your name isn’t Dream, is it?”
“I… I’m Clay,” he responds, still looking frazzled and in awe. “My name’s Clay.”
“Nice to meet you, Clay,” George greets, holding their hands together. But he doesn’t let go. “I’m George.”
“I know,” Clay replies, eyes wide, “You’re my IDOL.”
And George laughs, because he didn’t expect this. He didn’t expect Clay to be so shy and awkward and mesmerized by everything, and George was just enamoured. There was no other way to put it. Whether it be Dream or Clay, they both fascinated George equally.
It looked like everything was going to turn okay.
Sweater Troubles: AND HOW GEORGE IS GOING TO HANDLE TALKING TO SAP AND BAD ABOUT ALL THIS. PLEASE, I NEED THOSE ANSWERS.
multifandom_psycho: How do bad and sap react?
*on voice-call*
Bad: GEORGE! Did Clay manage to change your mind…?
Imp George: Nah, I don’t really feel like switching.
Sapnap: Oh my god… this is so dumb. Alter, you need to stop being ridiculous and actually think about this.
Bad: *hears giggles in the background* George? Is Clay with you right now?
Imp George: *ignores the question* Hey look, if I can beat you two in a manhunt, you have to let me keep Clay.
Bad: ...what?
Sapnap: *snorts* Yeah, okay Alter, you couldn’t even defeat me 1v1. How do you expect yourself to win against both of us?
Imp George: Then let’s do it, if you’re so positive you’ll win.
Sapnap: Fine, whatever. You have to keep your word, okay?
Imp George: I could say the same for you.
Sapnap and Bad: *gets totally obliterated in a game of manhunt*
Sapnap: What. GEORGE! When did you get so…?
Bad: *frowning* ...George? Is that you?
Imp and Clay: *breaking out into laughter*
urs_mmarie: how did twitter react to the kiss in the other universe? did imp george release a statement the day he arrived at his universe? how did ppl react?
multifandom_psycho: How did twitter react to the kiss?
AnIntrovertedDumbass: i have one question for alt george: how mad is he with other george for the huge fcking mess LMAO
Brooklynhunter: Bastard man Imposter George, what was your first reaction to the Twitter Drama?
ryuuisnothere: how did imp fix up the whole alter being caught kissing clay thing
Clay: I’m sorry, there was, uh, this picture that’s spreading around on twitter right now…
Imp George: *typing on his phone* Oh, don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.
Clay: What are you writing?
Imp George: *shows new tweet*
>guys, pls stop harassing him. sure, I haven't uploaded or streamed in a while, but calm the fuck down. Yes, we are in a relationship, and you can't change that. Yes, I came to america to visit him, yes the picture is real. Stop asking. Would you rly make both of us uncomfortable over such a small issue? Please stop. Thanks.
Long story short: Imp George is anything but mad about the drama going around LOL. If anything, Alter did him a favor by pre-establishing the relationship thing. He’ll take these rumors with pride :)
(credit: stole most of this from tomaye, it’s rly fitting!)
ryuuisnothere: how did sapnap explain the weird tweet that he did and how did people react to it
Sapnap: *typing a follow-up tweet* >Dream, I swear it was Bad that burned down your house, you have to believe me and george
Bad: >WHAT.
Lyrealith_writes: how do clay and impy get along?
multifandom_psycho: Are imp and clay going strong? Did imp and clay have a hard time adjusting or was it natural?
Imp George: Why are you so cute?
Clay: *blushes* Wha— G-George.
Imp George: *links their hands* See? So cute.
Clay: *mumbles as a beet-red tomato* ...thanks. Y-you’re cute too?
Imp George: *melts like icecream*
Opposites attract, what can I say.
urs_mmarie: how did imp george react to alt george using a lot(?) of his money? HAHAHA
Imp George: *checks his bank account* wHA- WHAT HAPPENED TO ALL MY MONEY?!
Sapnap: oh yeah, he spent like tons of cash to go find Clay.
Imp George: *slowly drags a hand down his face, remembering how he had also spent a shitload of the other George’s money* Fuck it, you know what? I deserve this. This is karma.
ryuuisnothere: what does imp think of alter and vice versa (I bet imp is pissed at him lmao)
Alt George: He’s like, the better version of me.
Dream: George…
Alt George: What? It’s true, isn’t it?
Dream: Better at minecraft, maybe. But he’s a shit driver. *pauses* And he doesn’t like coffee milk.
Alt George: Wow. You’re right, I AM the better George.
Thal_Chandra: how did OG Bad react to his alternate self swearing?
Brooklynhunter: How did Alt universe Bad react when finding out his other version swore?
ryuuisnothere: what does the prime dream team think of goodboyhalo and him cursing lmao
Bad: Wait. I did WHAT now???!
Alt George: *laughs* Yeah, your other self swears, Bad.
Sapnap: NO WAYYY! AHAHAHAHAHA
Bad: WHAT. You’re kidding me? Why would the other me swear?
Dream: Oh my GOD, for real?! What did he say?
Alt George: Well, on the first say the swap happened, he asked me “who the fu—”
Bad: GEORGE, NO, L-LANGUAGE!
Sapnap: *snickering* Should we start calling you Goodboyhalo now? Since you don’t even swear…
Bad: nO, oh my goodness… >n<
urs_mmarie: will the bbh that curses use muffin now or smth? LMAO
Bad: Oh my god, you’re such a potato.
Imp George: *snorts* WhaT.
Clay: *frowning* Potato?
Bad: Yeah! That’s what I said!
Sapnap: I preferred muffin over this.
Lyrealith_writes: DNF relationship reveal in the prime universe????
multifandom_psycho: do dream and alt come out?
Dream: Do you want to tell everyone about us…?
Alt George: I… I dunno. I mean, we don’t have to say anything, do we?
Dream: *nods* It’s up to you, George. I’m fine with whatever.
Alt George: But, what if we slip up on-stream? Or something?
Dream: *shrugs* People will just believe what they’ve always believed.
Alt George: *hesitating* But… I think I’m okay. With telling everyone about us.
Dream: ...okay. How do you want to do it?
Alt George: *uncertainly* ...tiktok.
(Yes, I’m looking at you Orientali. Now this is canon in my head too, thank you. Ref to this fic)
Lyrealith_writes: are they ever going to try and switch again or will they just remember each other fondly?
*on video-call*
Alt George: Do you ever think about him?
Dream: Who?
Alt George: You know… the other me.
Dream: *hums, eyes averted* Yeah, of… of course I do. *looks at George* Don’t you still think about the other me, too?
Alt George: Yeah. *pause* I miss having a nice Dream to talk to.
Dream: *wheezes in laughter* Geoooorge…
Alt George: *smiles* I’m just kidding.
Dream: *still wheezing* Yeah, I miss having a rude George to talk to too.
Alt George: uhm… thanks?? I think?
multifandom_psycho: does clay start playing minecraft with imp?
chia_aa: Does Clay now play Minecraft with Imp?
ryuuisnothere: is clay as good as dream at Minecraft or does he suck (no offense bro)
Sapnap: How are you actually BETTER at minecraft than Alter?!
Clay: *embarrassed giggling* Am I really?
Imp George: *nodding* Tons better. Be our fourth hunter, Clay.
Clay: * silent gasp* What? Are you… are you sure???
Bad: Oh my potato, YES! You should join us Clay!! If you call out to George during the manhunt, he might actually stop for you!
Imp George: *blinks, stumbling* N-no, I wouldn’t...
Sapnap: He HESITATED!!
multifandom_psycho: where were the first dates?
Dream: Our first date has to be in minecraft.
Imp George: Yes, our first date has to be a minecraft date.
Alter and Clay be looking at each other like: *what is wrong with these two*
esomettin: well i seriously want to know what imp george thought when he came out to dream about his feelings? i personally think that he was being kinda selfish and he shoulve been thinking before acting. idk if he did, but if he did plsss explain what was going tru his mind.
Imp George: I was just being honest. He asked, and I gave him an answer.
Dream: I was JOKING.
Imp George: ...so? Would you have preferred it if I lied?
Dream: *scrunches up his eyebrows*
Imp George: *grins back* Look, I wasn’t expecting anything back from you. I know you’re into the other George, okay? I just didn’t see any point in pretending you weren’t attractive. Because you are.
Dream: Oh my god.
Imp George: *shrugs* And it all ended up alright, didn’t it? That’s the moral of the story, guys. You should always confess your feelings, even if you know you’ll get flat-out rejected.
Dream: ...you’re gonna cause broken hearts everywhere, George.
Imp George: Honesty is the best policy.
esomettin: i would like to ask sapnap will he marry me pls thank u<3 this is a really important question btw please add this in i really need to know like literally
Prime Sapnap: yES.
Other Sapnap: What? NO. They asked ME. And my answer is yes—
Prime Sapnap: Um, exCUSE ME. They were clearly referring to the original. Which is ME.
Other Sapnap: Uhm, and how can you be so sure? They didn’t even specify.
Prime Sapnap: Well… it was implied.
Other Sapnap: Uh-huh. Real smart of you, oRigINaL Sapnap.
Prime Sapnap: Look, I’m tired of seeing Dream and George be all sappy with each other, okay? I NEED to get into a relationship ASAP before I vomit out my guts—
Other Sapnap: Uh, have you even SEEN my world’s George and Clay? They are so ughckk— ALL. The TIME.
Prime Sapnap: …
Other Sapnap: …
Prime Sapnap: Sorry esomettin, I think I just found my soulmate—
Other Sapnap: Other me, let’s get married now.
TheLapisWolf200: What was the reason of the swap? [A/N: I’m assuming the question is directed to the reason for the initial swap]
Alt George: I still dunno for sure. But… it helped me recognize my feelings, I guess?
Dream: *intertwining their hands* It was the same for me.
Imp George: *smirks fondly* I got to meet Dream. And because of him… *elbows* I met this cutie too.
Clay: *blushing* G-George…
Imp George: And with the extra addition, the George Gang is now better than ever. *smiles, turning to his friends* I’d say we’ve become a better team after all this, haven’t we?
A more coherent answer: Because of Imp’s status, he separated himself from his friends and became a lonely person (which is why he acts the way he does). The reason for the swap as dictated by the universe (or the fanfic gods?? lol) was actually for his sake, and it was Alt’s job to find Clay so that he and Imp could meet when they swapped back.
[And in case the question was directed to the reason for the final swap-back] The criteria was for both parties to “be prepared” for the swap-back. This not only meant both parties had to be willing to return, but that they both had to accomplish their respective goals. For Alt it was finding Clay, for Imp it was to look and learn from the Dream Team’s teamwork and realize he needed to apply it to his own world when he returned.
So basically… romance was never the goal of the swap LOL. Neither was kissing. The characters chose that path for themselves. Hope this helped explain some things!
Brooklynhunter: Clay, what did/do you think of the personality change of Imp George?
ryuuisnothere: what would clay say the main difference between alt and imp is
Clay: Hm, he’s… *pauses to think* He’s exactly how he’s like in videos.
Imp George: And how am I like in videos?
Clay: *scrunches eyebrows* ...Cocky and confident.
Imp George: *smirks* You got it.
Clay: ...and brave, and thoughtful, and caring—
Imp George: *shushes, face turning pink* No. Stop it.
Brooklynhunter: Alt universe Sapnap and Bad, you didn't have as much interaction with Imp George but what were your impressions of him?
Bad: I think he was kind of shy at first, but he opened up more after we did that first manhunt together—
Sapnap: He is so goddamn COCKY.
Bad: Wah- LANguage!
Sapnap: We only let him win one manhunt, and he was rubbing it into our faces for the rest of the entire week!
Bad: ...you’re just mad that there’s a George out there who’s better than you at minecraft?
Sapnap: ...no.
Dream: *snickering* He totally is.
Brooklynhunter: And finally, Clay’s mom. What was your initial reaction to finding out Random Old Friend Of Clay turned out to be Pretty Famous and also find that out from the hundreds of pictures of him and your son Kissing on social media?
Clay’s Mom: welcome to the family :)
chia_aa: Oh! and what is everyone's clothing choice? I'm curious on what style of clothing each character has, like would Alt and Imp have similar tastes in clothing? That also applies to Clay and Dream!
Dream: Hoodie and jeans.
Alter George: *rolls eyes* So basic.
Dream: You just wear t-shirts all the time!
Alter George: A-and sweaters!
Clay: *shyly raises hand* Jackets…? Sometimes hoodies. No green ones though.
Imp George: *steps onto the stage, ears-pierced, hands in pockets* Gaze and be amazed, plebs.
Okay but like, for real now. I like to differentiate Dream and Clay by green vs yellow hoodie. For the Georges, I initially did not have any sort of way to separate them BUT. This amazing fanart has now become my new canon (for imp George, at least), so you can refer to that for an idea of what I’m thinking of :)
(It’s a shame I’m only thinking about this now, since I absolutely would’ve inserted a passage about Imp roasting George’s closet if I could LOL)
k3yb0aRdSMaCK: I have questions..... SAPNAPS YES BOTH OF YOU!!! HOW CHEZZY AND CUTE ARE THE DREAMS AND GEORGES?!?!
Other Sapnap: *gags*
Prime Sapnap: They’re so gross.
Other Sapnap: Yeah, agreed.
Other Bad: Their PDA can be a bit much at times.
Prime Bad: But, I think they’re kind of cute…?
Other Bad: You’re a potato.
Prime Bad: Wha- H-HEY! exCUSE YOU.
And that’s everything! That was a lot of fun, haha xD Thank you again for all the love and support you guys gave this story, I’m know I’m gonna miss writing it a ton <3 Have a wonderful day, and happy dreams!
-
Additional questions after the deadline:
Georges interactions with one another / Dreams interacting with one another
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For personal security reasons unless you personally are dining at the restaurant (like you said) it is not recommended you give all your info over the phone simply because you are not aware who is handling your information and if your information gets mishandled guess what you can not blame the place because you freely gave them your info. The woman who treated them to a drink said they didn’t even tell them it was from her, they could have overcharged her and its hard to fight that or claim it as fraud. Its easier if you personally do it online and it gets recorded in the system to fight it.
When i worked in retail we had people who wanted us to charge their card over the phone and save their merch for later. You cant do that, you have to physically order it for pick up or have it delivered because (according to my company) we are not responsible for the mismanagement or charges on your card, we wipe our hands clean, and if you leave your stuff unattended its implied you knew better and we are not responsible. Also, its a kind gesture but if they can afford a bougie hotel, they can afford a few shots too lol.
yeah, that fan is lucky that no one stole her information. and again, i don't see the point in buying them drinks. like, maybe if i was at the same restaurant as them, but even then... they make more money then me and my dad when he was still alive COMBINED lol
they get enough of my money as it is sksksk
and yeah, i remember a couple times when i was working at my old job, ladies would call in and try to tell us to put stuff on hold for them with a card and we're like... no, can't do that. i can hold it for you until you come in, but if you don't come in today, it's up for grabs.
i think some ppl forget online shopping is a thing haha
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ϟ. → robert sheehan : genderfluid : he/they/she : dealer of illicit objects and substances : the raven by the alan parsons project ϟ did you see mundungus fletcher ? you know , 31 year old halfblood who was formally in ravenclaw. some say dung can be quite furtive but are known to be unreliable. they are aligned with the order . maybe that’s why they remind me of naming stray cats, flicking a lighter over and over again, falling asleep on the subway. ϟ
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ciannán o’donnell is a flighty man, one of many relationships and flings and little loyalty, and so his affair with maeve fletcher does not last long. when she tells him she is pregnant, he moves on to a different woman, and maeve has her son alone, with her sister on her side. and thus, mundungus is born (and giving an arguably atrocious name).
he grows up with his mum – a halfblooded witch and by far his favourite person in the world – in limerick, attending muggle school there. he knew who his dad was, but wasn’t quite sure how to feel about — his father is a criminal, a prominent member of the irish mob.
he meets his dad for the first time at age seven, and was nothing but impressed. his dad showered him with gifts, his mum watching with a furious look on her face but biting her tongue. that moment was a switch for mundungus; he felt the need to impress his dad. he stole some sweets from a store on his way home from school a week later, fished some pennies out of the pockets of his classmates a few months later. when he phoned his dad to tell him, his laugh was warm and filled with life. his relationship with his dad got better as his behaviour got worse. the thrill of stealing, of doing stuff he wasn’t supposed to, lit him not only on fire because it was exciting, but also because he knew his dad would adore it.
but ciannan, a flighty man, pushes and pulls. and so mundungus was fed disappointment by his father, liking love off a shiny knife rather than a spoon ( silver or plastic, what the fuck does it matter ). details omitted, long story made short: his dad sucks and his mother tries, but mundungus is pulled towards that what smells of danger.
DRUGS MENT. at hogwarts, dung is sorted into ravenclaw. not at all the booksmart type, he falls more into the chaotic-creativity, random-bursts-of-wanting-to-learn-everything-about-something type of ravenclaw. there’s two worlds, then: the muggle world, where he slowly dips his water further in criminal waters, and the wizarding one, where he’s chaotic and messy but a student. when he grows older, these overlap: dung starts selling some of his dad’s weed at hogwarts, and soon gains a reputation of being able to get people less-than-legal shit.
not getting high off your own supply is not a sentiment he agrees with. not then, not later, not now. dung is fun, always in for a party and willing to supply the goods to throw it. if some rich purebloods lose a few galleons at said party, well, it sure isn’t him! END OF TW
he graduates with two newts, in herbology and potions, failing his dada and charms exams. he’s not an academic.
falling into the family business after graduation is easy. mundungus is attracted by the criminal underworld, both that of muggle ireland and that of the wizarding world. knockturn alley was a place frequented in teenage years, but now becomes more his place. he makes connections, exchanges strange potion recipes for other things. makes an odd wager on a bunch of stolen brass scales and turns a profit.
a career is not something that interests him; he is more interested in bending rules and making quick money. thievery, selling illegal shit, heists, fraud, fuck-all. mundungus is not limited by one descriptor, one kind of criminality. he just does what he wants and hopes to make a good penny.
but then he almost gets sent to azkaban over some, in his frank opinion, bullshit. it’s dumbledore who talks the wizengamot out of it, saddling dung up with some community service and persuading him towards the order. he’s twenty three. the war is still fresh. he has no interest in it, but he owes the old man. fine.
mundungus does vehemently oppose blood purity and any kind of discriminatory ideals, an anarchist in his very bones, but he is also cowardly. to side with self-proclaimed rebels is not in his blood and yet it’s where he ends up, bringing shady ties to the underworld to the table and a sheer ability to sneak around and fuck the law. and maybe, amidst the ranks of the order, dung finds something he’s not very familiar with: a large family. and dung? well, he’s the stoner, gay, super-fucking-chaotic cousin.
personality
if jesper fahey and kaz brekker had a child, it would be dung.
other character parallels: fezco ( euphoria ), boris ( the goldfinch ), doug judy ( b99 ), jason mendoza ( the good place ), chris miles ( skins ), nick miller ( new girl ), creed bratton ( the office ), scott lang ( marvel ), lillian ( unbreakable kimmy schmidt )
technically he’s homeless. he’s got a bedroom at his ma’s place, has a ton of squatter connects in the muggle scene and couch surfes aplenty, but dung doesn’t rent a place. why? landlords are evil. he could afford a place, just doesn’t see the point. life’s better with some adventure.
appears very neutral in public as it’s beneficial to his role in the order???
.... tortured artist. writes poetry and loves to draw and paint.
tattooed the fuck up. some are his own designs.
can usually be spotted wearing The Coat, a rly expensive, vintage long coat that he once stole of a pureblood. he’s enlarged the pockets with some handy spellwork and pretty much carries everything he owes in there, like his produce and his money and his second pair of shoes and his art supplies and probably some random trash.
loves animals. he loves stray cats especially <3 they are his kin.
an anarchist. a bit of a punk. a deep idealist with a cowardly heart so constantly betraying himself (and sometimes others?)
queer! enby! genderfluid! i used he/him pronouns throughout this intro but dung truly doesn’t give a damn what u use. loves to dress up in feminine clothes.
has a ton of aliases, lol, the most important one being marigold fincher.
cusses too fuckin much to be healthy :/
oh no he is a big sad insecure kid deep inside :/ dont tell anyone how embarrassing!!!! shhhh!! it’s a secret.
quick connection ideas
victim. wow please. if your character is rich. let me steal from u. pick ur pockets. break into ur house. get some of ur stuff and drop it on the black market.
customer. dung sells. whatever u need. drugs. weird magical things. ask and ye shall receive. his prices are whack but he does deliver <3
pal. party friends! order friends! random encounter friends! dung has a trashmouth and loves to talk pls let him chat u up and u will never be rid of him <3
couch. he couch surfs. a lot. if ur character trusts dung enough to let him into their home (which they shouldnt) then pls let him sleep over for a night. he will leave a strangely expensive necklace on ur kitchen table as a thank u. or wilted flowers. no in between.
skeptic. ur char is in the order and thinks dung is a liability and maybe they have a point. a point mundungus would rather not face :)
dmle bitches. dung hates anyone authoritative but esp the coppers at the ministry (hit wix & aurors) (yea he calls them coppers sorry he doesnt respect them enough to call them aurors <3). give me that doug judy/jake peralta dynamic. or just someone in the dmle who is like ... sigh this guy again???
fwb/one night stand/fling/etc. he’s a bit slutty <333 give him some ppl he’s hooked up with / will hook up with.
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i kno a lot of the fandom hc cina having had a mortal husband when she was human bc its ‘unrealistic’ to have been 44 and unmarried in the 20s-40s, i hc it more as her dad was gonna arrange her marriage for financial reasons since, lbr even if the duke is the og dimitr/escu, theres gotta be more reason than just being a dumbass and dying for losing your entire fortune and castle so when ur daughter comes back she has literally nothing until miranda gives the castle back to her (and with how focused cina is on being proper and business minded, yeah this bish has been through it)
i do believe that due to the time period she was raised, she would have had some compulsory heterosexuality, but is in fact a lesbian you can fite me but for my portrayal im right, and c/apcom didnt name her blood disease but seeing as i actually have several conditions that effect my blood and a blood condition (deep vein thrombosis, i dont recommend looking it up, its not fun, i also have a blood cell issue thats not leukemia but puts me at heightened risk of it bc my white blood cells are physically overgrowing and attacking my other cells, the mix of the two being why walking is extremely painful for me. Thanks genetics.) and since i know enough about those conditions due to having them that i’m more comfortable portraying them, i may make it be that she has the excessively high white blood cell count and probably PCOS, which is partly responsible for my blood cells fucking up. At least thats what american healthcare tells me.
also meaning, even if she did have a husband, which i doubt shes too proud for that if she ever actually married a man and he treated her badly then the second miranda turned her cina would have found and ate him, which would be the only reason i’d put that on this blog if i did. I already hc that once turned she found all the living members of her jazz band that stole money and shit from her and pawned it off, and ate all of them. Yass queen. Anyways yeah if she did have one, he was eaten. i dont personally write that she has had one
(at least not rn, might make the backstory slightly more rich but i didnt feel a need to have her hatred of men be due to abuse from a romantic sense, that just felt unnecessary in this circumstance and kind of has been done a lot of times, and considering i’ve written HQ who does kill ppl for fun and i hate people making her the feminist icon and lesbian icon when a: not a lesbian, b; abuses her girlfriends and boyfriends the way she was abused, c: is a garbage person just bc shes fun doesnt mean shes not garbage shut up, but it felt wrong to have a villain be a victim of abuse from men in a romantic regard, especially writing her as a lesbian, bc as an afab nonbinary whos primarily attracted to women it feels massively wrong to only let villains be bi, pan, or lesbians, idk how to describe it it just, it feels vaguely offensive and like when media only makes us villains or kills us off)
but yeah, she’s probably eaten every shitty male she ever knew except her dad who was already dead. Duke potentially being her ancestor is why hes allowed to exist in her castle but hes probably also on thin ice, but she cant really do anything to him so lol
anyways tldr: i dont write that she was ever married, i write that she ran away from arrangement, shes a lesbian whos dealt w comp het, would not have been able to have biological kids, has more than likely eaten every man who was rude to her
#out.#im still tired nothing i say makes senseseeeee#infertility cw#chronic illness cw#blood disease cw#✵ if i bleed you’ll be the last to know ✵ HEADCANON
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