[ @laughter-in-white ]
-- He hadn’t met Joker yet. Not since he’d come back to life, not since he’d become the Knave. But he saw that long shadow and he reacted on instinct. The meteor hammer was in his fists in seconds, the long chain sailing through the air to slam the metal ball forward, embedding it into the brick dead center to the shadow’s head.
He didn’t think of anything to say, there’s a ringing his his ears and everything feels cold and numb, teeth chattering behind the helmet. He remembers the blood, the snow, trying to stumble home. He just wants to scream. But he doesn’t-- it’s stuck in his throat, leaving his mouth open in horror behind the red kevlar helmet.
He yanks the chain back, letting it wrap around his calf for momentum. Then he leaps, kicking out as the meteor shoots out towards Joker’s face. Finally, a scream rips through his throat, seeming to echo and distort against the bricks and concrete. It’s a series of curses and slurs, meaningless angry words for the man who’d left him to his death.