the--redacted--of-hellskitchen:
Being nice felt good. Heâd spent a lot of time being an asshole. Plus, this guy seemed like he needed a dose of nice.Â
âLucky me,â he smiled, taking a sip of his coffee as heâJackâintroduced himself. Matt was about to give his name when the shriek hit his ears something fierce and it was everything in him to keep from wincing.Â
God damn, that kid had a set of lungs on her.Â
âOf course. Good luck,â he said, nodding. Matt heard Jack go over to the table and listened between bites of his muffin to him entertain the child. That was sweet, he was very good at that. He smiled to himself, making a mental note to talk him up to whoever owned this place because that customer service was impeccable.Â
Matt left pretty soon after Jack did, not wanting to give him any more work to do (heâd done more than enough). He put his dishes in the bus bins, gathered his things and walked out towards his apartment. Matt grabbed a relatively short nap before waking up and having a protein bar and some coffee.Â
Now to negotiate his way into that suitâŠ
Heâd gotten rusty at this in his time off.Â
The suit fit well enough, it was a bit loose in the stomach and chest. MattâDaredevilâwas sitting on the roof trying to figure out how he had been able to listen to anything despite it not being that long ago in the grand scheme of things. If Stick were around, he would have been pissed though that could be said for any one of the behaviors heâd taken up since Elektra died.Â
Fuck Stick. Matt wasnât doing this for his approval.Â
Normally he would have been able to pick out Jokerâs sinister voice right then and there but between his time off and his unfamiliarity with the man it slipped by him completely. He wasnât listening for it, so of course he couldnât hear itâ
That scream tore him out of whatever haze he was in. As he darted in its direction, he heard gunshots (which muffled the sound of the victim actually getting away) which only made him run faster towards the noise that was practically still ringing in his ears.Â
It wasnât too far away, though the hero of the hour was still a bit winded when he got there. He jumped to the fire escape on the wall that the unfamiliar man was leaning on and then it hit himâthere was no body. Daredevil furrowed his brow. There was no way heâd had enough time to stash it, even if he was quick about it, and that lady definitely diedâŠdidnât she?Â
This didnât make any sense. Unless this was a trapâthen it made a lot of sense. Why bother to go the lengths to trick him, why not just commit a real crime? Wasnât that what bad guys liked to do?Â
Whatever this was, it was happening and Daredevil had to act like it was part of his plan all along. Thankfully, that was something he was good at. He racked his brain idly for tips heâd heard, for newcomers whose MO it was to trick vigilantes with a flair for the dramatic andâfuck.Â
One name came to mind. One name who probably was itching of boredom since the death of Batman. One name he didnât really want to fuck with right off the bat butâit wasnât like he could leave now.Â
âIâve heard legends about you.â The Daredevil voice was like riding a bike; he couldnât forget. His hand went to the club stashed in his pocket as he stepped out of the shadows (which seemed so close to intentional one could practically doubt he was really blind.)  âThey were all out of Gotham though. What brings you to my city?âÂ
   If there was one thing he missed about the bat, it was that he had always been prompt. Sure, the batmobile was a ridiculous case of compensation and the fuel of so many jokes, but it had always brought its owner to him quickly, and he'd not had to wait for anyone in years. Heâd have to teach the devil to be quickerâor get rid of him and find someone else. Either worked, really, though he was genuinely hoping this one would have promise.
  And then, what seemed like forever to the Jokerâs impulsive, easily bored mind, the devil of Hellâs Kitchen finally showed, stepping out of the shadows in a way so reminiscent of the Bat that it was almost familiar. Why, if the horns were a bit less pointy, and the mask and suit dyed black... It could almost be close enough. Almost.
  He was drawn from his comparisons finally by the heroâs wordsâwords which drew a squeal of pure joy from him. Of course, he knew he was (in)famous, but no one had ever referred to them as legends. Him! Legendary! It was enough to make a villain blush. On any other day, heâd have played it up, but he still did have some sense; enough to tell him that against an unfamiliar opponent, heâd be best off not abandoning his gun to clutch his cheeks and pull a southern belle act. Maybe in a few weeks, if the devil could keep up such flattery.
  And thenâand then the million dollar question. The Jokerâs face fell serious once more, as he deadpanned, âI'm on a religious mission to take down the devil.â Less than a second later, his control broke, the serious face melting into one of mockery as he laughed uproariously as much for show as genuine mirth.
  Still, he had been asked a question, and it would be rude not to answer. The laughter stopped abruptly as a deadly grin spread across his face. âOh, you know, the usual,â he began, his tone conversational, contrasting heavily with the murderous look that he didnât realize the other man wouldnât appreciate. âNot enough bats in my belfry anymore. No, I'm afraid the one I had just didn't make the cut.â There was a momentary pause, as if he were considering something, before he added quickly, âOr maybe he was made into too many cuts, depending on your point of view.â
    At this, the Joker laughed shrilly, partly at his own joke and his memories, and partly just because he could. With his introduction out of the way, he raised the gun in his right hand, aiming it at the other man, while his left reached for the concealed daggers within his cloakâthe true threat, since he wouldnât want to end things too quickly. âAnyway, I'm looking for a new best enemy now. Your little city seemed dirty and crimey, just like Gotham, so I figured I'd fit right in. So. Do you believe in enemies at first sight, or shall I walk by again?â