#jokezilla

[noetic-noesis-noein]

@jokezilla​ has entered the shop

  Ding-a-ling. The small brass bell above the shop chimed and Arden didn’t even both to look up from her worklog. Hand buried in her cheek, she sighed and hummed, “Just to let ya know hun, we’re like, ten minutes from closing so if you’ve got a big order I’ll have to shelve it for tomorrow, mmkay?”

[omenfated]

𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐘𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐁𝐎𝐘.

    Gaze falls upon an unfamiliar facade as he watches a man being escorted to the common area. It seemed all the patients were handled with rough touch at Arkham, but the guards were being especially hostile towards this stranger. As Josh takes in his once-green roots desperate for upkeep, and sinister Glasgow grin straight out of one of the many horror films the youth had frequently devoured, he was quick to put the pieces together: this prisoner was the infamous Joker.     As the other is forcibly seated at a table a few feet away, Josh makes little effort to hide his stare. Not long passes before he decides to address the very subject of frequent gossip and mythos. “I, uh, hear you got a thing for clowns?”

[atrickofthetoxin-a]

@jokezilla​​ // sc

It’s spoken with a white-knuckle grip on the clown’s shoulder, talons dig into flesh, the shadow-cloaked specter behind him leaning close to whisper a threat in Jack’s ear, a sharp-worded reminder of a slammed door and a suffocating dark.

“The next time you irritate me, I’ll lose the key. Is that understood?”

[atrickofthetoxin-a]

" Yanno! if y' wanted a nickname sooo badly y' coulda asked. Hmm....lets see..i'm thinkin' ' ugly duckling ' - 'cause of that whole *crow* thing y' got goin on , pluuuus...y' have a freakish set of features! " / FROM @jokezilla !

Give Jon a nickname! || No longer accepting 

Crane stiffens, exhaling quietly between his teeth in an irritated hiss. The look he gives the clown is familiar in its severity, as is the sharpness of his tongue, quicker to snap then is typical.

“You will call me nothing of the sort.”

[atrickofthetoxin-a]

👄 / please be extra cruel xoxo - @jokezilla

Does Jon find you attractive?  || Still accepting

He laughs, low and long, the quiet, sinister sound lasting for far longer then is comfortable, before he takes a syringe from the table and tosses it at Jacks feet in disgust.

“No. And for the record, Jack, I will never be close to you, I will never care for you, I will never be your friend. Whatever delusions you might have to the contrary, I will never anything more to you then a glorified drug dealer, and you never anything to me but a pest. Take that, and get out. Go indulge in your pathetic little habit somewhere else.”

@jokezilla

[atrickofthetoxin-a]

                                 𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙙𝙤 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙫𝙞𝙫𝙚

                                                    @jokezilla

[atrickofthetoxin-a]

@jokezilla​ gets whatever this is-

This night is unusually peaceful, mad dog has been sated (although the satisfaction never lasts) by the doctors liquid terror, and Crane has left him to his own devices while he looks for a book that he was sure he had ‘acquired’ only a week before...where was the damn thing...?

(Hideout is a dizzying maze of volumes, stacked in towering columns next to shelves that strain under the weight of their contents, don’t touch them, lest you draw his ire.)

Needed tome is not found, but- A pistol clatters to the floor as the shifting of a box knocks loose several novels.

“Dammit-”

A pause. Gaze locks on the weapon.

Oh.

Do you remember the last time you held this? Do you remember the sound of the shot? The one that ended your career, birthed the monster spawned under southern sun? Do you remember the sound of a shattering vase, Jonathan Crane? Your last words?

' 𝙻𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚜𝚢𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚞𝚗! '

Gloved hands retrieve the object, gently, like the fine china you weren’t allowed to touch, kept away for some hypothetical ‘company’ that never seemed to find the time to drop by that crumbing house.

“...Jack?” Voice is soft in a way rarely allowed. Questioning, shifts to an order before mad dog scents blood. “Come here, you’re needed.” Although he isn’t, really. In reality there is merely a story to tell (an axe to grind), and a monologue that is only such if performer has an audience.

“I think...you’ll find this interesting.”

[diamondcladclown]

They're cuddled up with one another, Jack running slightly shaking fingers through Harley's hair. " Bet y' wish it was always like this, hm?" / from @jokezilla !!

Harley hummed in pure contentment. Savoring the intimate moment. "Maybe but also you wouldn't be you if you weren't mean and I love you." Any part of him he was willing to give she was willing to take.