he can see through her cracks. the little beginning-cuts, he can see through them. this is what it all ultimately comes down to : seeing not the gears for their sake, but wire by wire, the whole mechanism too. he can see through the cracks in the doctor’s blood-red drying lipstick and let himself be carried from there into a wood of thoughts impalpable and quick as shadows ; thoughts into thoughts into thoughts, branching out, willowy. but a matryoshka is only a hollow piece of wood if watched from outside, and dr. kospki is far from running inside the wheel. yet. when she smothers a honest-to-god chuckle, the joker rewards her with a flattered noise. a calm, purring vibration from the back of his throat. he watches her intently torturing herself, watches her peel the skin off herself like bark from a young tree ; pretending he doesn’t know why, he tilts his head and licks his lips, quickly — mindlessly.
“ i know, baby. ” he tells her, complacent.
then something falls before his face at her little attempt of a counter-attack, a courtain-like shade of annoyance. it only lasts an instant, but it’s … intense. makeup or not, there’s a heaviness in the way his lids weigh down in a half-unfinished blink, and his scarred mouth twitches like a dog’s chewing on an invisible bone. but then - “ oh i … i paint myself? … haHAHAHAHEHEHAHOHOHE… hehe ... ha. ” the laugh profusing from him is vulgar in how loud and uncontrolled it is, violent in the way it shakes him and he almost sobs. “ that was … ah, that was a good one, doc. ” he says, jaw hinged back into a humanlike face, at the very least. doctor HARL - EY stays still : oh she’s good, she’s very good.
she stays too still, almost, too serious and rigid. can’t she see that what she said was funny? the joker’s mouth fights the natural carved-in smile to twist into a scolding grimace. “ ya, hmmmh, laugh at my jokes but … but not at your own. that’s some real … self-esteem issue we have there, huh haaarl? can i call you harl? or … or harl-ey, better. doctor kopski feels so - uh, colorless. and is there a mr. kopski or is that your, ah, your maiden name? ” he asks in a silly giggle, in stark contrast with the feral grin that’s back on his face. that grin swallows everything. every hint of annoyance, every deviation from how well and how carefully dr. kopski’s directing this little farce. he stretches - or maybe just pretends to do so - his back, whips quickly his tongue over his pale scarred lips. those are some unpleasant accusations dr. harleen kopski is moving against him, and the joker he can pretend to ignore them no longer. the best comes always last.
he clears his throat in a businesslike manner. “ were was i? uh, right, i’m a schemer. well haaarley i’m … really … not. y’know what i do? guys at the gcn don’t know how to tell a story. yes, i … get some wires ready. play with matches. but … but the outcome ! ” he growls “ ‘s always a, uh, a surprise. who knows? maybe carl with the ronald mcdonald mask put a bit too much c4, and … we blow up two buildings. maybe frank, y’know i hate that frank guy, didn’t put enough c4 and i gotta improvise. doesn’t maaatter, i’m good at it. so … so, you see? to spice things up, gotta have the spices ready. ”
the joker gives her a knowing smile, sharp-witted and ready. “ i’m spicin’ things up in here too, doc. who knows what the outcome’s gonna be. ”
harleen had widened her eyes at the man warningly when being called baby . it was the closest thing to a glare she could allow herself to throw at him . the joker was testing her good will . other patients often didn’t know much about social queues or had illusions about what their relationship was . but that wasn’t the case here . THE JOKER KNEW THE RULES . he just chose to ignore them . her eyes remained on his , both of them burying into his flesh as he dared ask about her husband . if harleen could reach out and touch him , she’d find a way to HURT HIM . ─── harley hated being reminded of her husband . the memories associated to him caused her great shame . LEFT A BITTER TASTE IN HER MOUTH . the time in which she could laugh about murder hadn’t come yet . ❝ i don’t think mr. kopski is relevant to this session . ❞ she pointed out , her jaw clenching ever so lightly .
she pulled her gaze away from his , allowing herself some room to breathe ( push it down , harley , you’ve done it before ! keep that shit buried ! ) . blue eyes contemplated the naked concrete wall to their right . there were a few cracks on it . they had been there for YEARS NOW . that whole place was falling apart . sometimes harleen thought she was the only thing keeping arkham from turning into a pile of dust . ❝ but you can call me by my name if you tell me what i should call you . ❞ she turned her head to look back at her patient . his laughter still echoed within the back of her mind . gave her a headache . this was all a big joke to him . ─── he shouldn’t be there , HE WASN’T INSANE . he was a criminal who just happened to be smarter than most . harley leaned a bit over the table between them . ❝ quid pro quo , baby . ❞ she bit the inside of her cheek right then and there . childish . throwing the same mocking nonchalance he had offered her back at him was TERRIBLY CHILDISH . this wasn’t a game . harleen couldn’t win a therapy session . of course she couldn’t ! she knew this ! her fingers tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear as she tried to get back on track .
❝ you enjoy winding others up and watching them go ─── but you are in an extremely controlled environment now . surprises and unpredictability are exactly what arkham’s staff works to avoid on a daily basis . ❞ dr. kopski pointed out , her voice smoother now , firmer . if she could focus on her patient rather than herself then she could play her part PROPERLY . ❝ don’t you think it is more likely for you to change rather than the asylum ? ❞