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Finally decided to watch Btas. Great show
Someone born and raised in Metropolis visits their friend in Gotham. And they knew, objectively, that it was a dangerous city. But hey, so is Metropolis! The quakes, the laser beams. But oh. They were not ready for how CASUAL the danger is.
Metropolitan: There's a lot of construction in this area.
Gothamite: Yeah, the Joker tried to make a getaway in an ice cream truck and it rammed into a gas station. Whole place exploded.
Metropolitan: Uh, alright then.
Gothamite: Hey, are you okay?
Metropolitan: I just got really panicky just now, I don't know what happened.
Gothamite: Oh, right! We're walking past Gotham University. There's always a little bit of fear toxin in the air around here, you're probably just not used to it.
Metropolitan: Um??? That seems like a biohazard???
Gothamite: Yeah lol
Metropolitan: Is that a flash mob over there?
Gothamite: Hm? Ah, shoot, Music Meister broke out of Arkham. Cover your ears, we'll take the long way around.
Metropolitan: Wh.
Gothamite: He mind controls people with his singing voice.
Metropolitan: OH, OKAY THEN
Gothamite: -and that restaurant is a front for Falcone, and that store is a front for Thorn, and that club is a front for the Penguin, and-
Metropolitan: *lady with the floating equations meme*
Metropolitan: Man, the subways here are pretty gross, but at least they're always on time!
Gothamite: Well, Clock King would have a total hissy fit if they weren't, so-
Metropolitan: Who?????
Gothamite: Clock King. The guy who tied that dude to the clock tower a couple years ago. I thought he made national news?
Metropolitan: How many supervillains do you have???
Gothamite: Enough that Arkham's raising funds to build a new wing.
Metropolitan: WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOUR SINK WATER?????
Gotham: Oh, god, do you want a comprehensive list or a top three?
Whenever DC attempts to make Clock King look like his BTAS version, they always fail. Artists always make him look too young, too sexy, too dangerous, too charismatic, too much like a palette-swapped Riddler. If they’re going to go with the Temple Fugate version, he needs to look like a balding, middle-aged British accountant from the 50’s who has just stepped off the morning train to work. His outfit should be perfectly tailored yet wholly unremarkable. So precise in every way that he almost vanishes in a crowd.
Conversely, if they go with the original William Tockman version of Clock King, he needs to look like a complete doofus who loves clocks, dresses like clocks, and even has a full on clocksona. Extra points if he also still has his legitimately tragic dying-sister backstory along with the stupidest costumes known to comics.
Batman The Animated Series | The Clock King x If You're So Smart, Why Aren't You Rich?
The loud speaker crackled to life, the inmates of Arkham varying stages of sedation and dissociation already exhausted by what was surely to be another inane announcement. Some, very cognizant of time no matter the drugs forced into their system, were mildly interested by the change in routine. Others who used their time to recover before escaping to wreak havoc on the city at large were irritated by the interruption of the few z’s they were able to catch.
What none of them expected was to hear the voice of the singular Pamela Isley rasping through the speakers. It wasn’t odd that she would stage a break out, there were plenty of previous noteworthy riots all due to the blatant mastication of salad while staring her down. Thanks Edward. Or the time scissors had been used to trim off her hip in order to be used in a tea. Thanks Jervis.
Needless to say, it was not unheard of, but it garnered the attention of those capable. Some sitting up on the cot they’d previously been rotting in, others leaning forward against the restraints that kept them tethered to the wall behind them in solitary. Not only was this a possible escape, there was tea here, someone had done something very stupid. Much like the good Doctor Fries, Pamela had little use for humanity at whole, so who had done what to trample on her pretty little toes.
“Good evening, Arkham, mostly to my fellow inmates. I would apologize for having lost my temper, but I’m not so I won’t.’
Those sedated began to notice it first, the light pressure on their chest, the way fingers twitched, the warmth at the back of the throat that eased the tissue raw from screaming. The cognizant ones, clever though they may be, took longer as they were attempting to find a way to turn the new development to their advantage without yet having the full details.
“Dr. Arkham decided to boast that we at large are easy to control, myself in particular as my only strength is my ability to chemically manipulate others at a base level.’ A soft hushing sound, a few inmates recognized the muffled protest of a gagged Jeremiah. “And that clearly, I do not belong on the list of dangerous Rogue as long as I’m kept contained in a metal cell with no access to the Earth and all her bounty.’
Eager anticipation begins to shift in those listening, this does not sound like the beginnings of a riot, Mother Nature’s fury unleashed on stone poorly founded. A few of the less inclined to be used as pawns prepare to barricade themselves in, lower ranking rogues that occasionally punched above their station in hopes of rising to elite status. Others, while still confused as to the end goal, are thrilled knowing chaos is soon to be had in the decrepit halls.
“As if I have not personally brought Gotham to its knees with only a briar rose. Taken control of the upper crust in order to smother the city into a lethargic feast for my precious babies.” A pause, the audible slow breath in, and the exhale that is so explicit that it’s practically felt against the skin. “Hearing it for years has been a mild irritant to say the least, from a bunch of misogynistic, egotistical, narcissistic apes.’
A few of the higher tiered rogues have begun to recognize the danger, even those who had not been unwise enough to taunt the avatar of Mother Nature. They hadn’t stopped it either, some muttering a choice curse.
“So before I leave, return to my cell for a bit of rest, I hope you all enjoy yourselves.’ Tone acidic, a click is heard as the switch is flipped to off.
Those not requiring visual aid notice the haze first, spilling from the vents usually used to administer heavy sedatives in the event of a riot. A system long since abandoned as the guards were usually also knocked out amongst the inmates leaving bodies and no one to transport back to cells. The growing clamour slowly quiets as some retreat further into their cells as throats grow thick, muscles taut. Or others take advantage of the long low buzz as cell doors are opened, red lights flickering to green.
What's going on here: A collection of one to two parters of the inmates in Arkham Asylum Rogue ship specific.
If you would like to request an x reader (doctor, nurse, orderly, guard, or fellow patient) and a rogue in this particular "verse" use my kofi the amounts are the same as my tip and can be found under the commission tab! $2 tip - 750~ $4 tip - 1k~ $6 tip - 1.25k~
Early access (a week in advance) is available at my Patreon under the $5 tier, which also gets you access to the other works that are scheduled. My Table of Contents found here!
Another one of these I made at work. I've made more than I've shown on my blog
Audio source
DC ((Riddler lmao)) art dump
I like the way I draw in a cuter kinda style more than I like my "realistic" style so I did that more lmao
The Clock King Appreciation Post
One of the best minor villains in the show, despite his simplicity.
