Thread: When 9 Lives Aren't Enough (DanceWithDemise x Rand)

The city was indeed thrust into chaos, with the exact cause behind the simultaneous breakouts not being entirely known. There were theories, of course. A mass organized plot by a crime syndicate which remained on the loose. Possibly an inside job orchestrated by the criminals and criminally insane which were previously held securely within those now pregnable walls. Some would even chalk it up as simply being a natural result of the years of festering crime which had infected the city of Gotham for so long as anyone could remember. An act of God, if one were the biblical type. Or perhaps some other less praiseworthy deity. Regardless of the reasoning behind it, the city was suffering the resulting wrath, with certain individuals reaping the rewards. Amongst them, centered within the particular hotel which Selina Kyle had been scaling downward upon, was a certain Clown Prince of Crime, whom was currently seated within the top floor room. His 'throne' was a now bullet ridden armchair, with traces of bullet holes and the faint markings of blood on the walls giving an idea of the type of activity which took place to 'clear out' the previous riff raff. Nearby were a few piles of money, largely kept around for satisfying his goons who cared about such silly things, along with a number of pieces of jewelry. The latter of which were mostly there to keep the other person currently in the room happy. Oh, puddin'! Isn't life just grand?! Shouted the bubbly voice of the female jester known as Harley Quinn , whom had moved to wrap herself somewhat around one side of the chair while holding one hand out with a few dangly, sparkly trinkets decorated her gloved hand, We never get to do any shopping like this while cooped up in Arkham. And even a non-material girl like myself does like to accessorize from time to time. For his part, the Joker was satisfied with simply humoring his Harley's own interests, while patiently awaiting for the arrival of his own little obsession. Namely the Bat. There was reason, after all, for the demented criminal mastermind to have placed himself in such an obvious positioning while his goons remained in waiting. Anything for you, pookie. You know there's nobody else more important in the world. The eternally grinning clown remarked - lying through his teeth while reaching a gloved hand upward to gently run a few fingers along her make up plastered face. Caught up as they were by each others eccentricities, the Joker wasn't completely oblivious to a brief shadow which appeared near one of the windows. The Bat? No. Even a slip so minor as this wasn't his style. Turning his head toward his 'love', the Joker whispered, Harley? Be a dear and check outside, will you? I do believe we have a cat prowling along our outdoor window sill. Blinking a bit, Harley gave a knowing smile before responding with a Sure thing, Mr. J. before seemingly nonchalantly skipping away out of the room. Exiting through the nearby door, the Joker was thus left sitting there on his own, a seemingly perfect target for taking down and removing an important chess piece from the chaotic chess board that was the city. On the outside, it may have appeared that the lone figure whom had begun to rest his cheek on a propped up hand, elbow placed to the arm of the chair, was simply making plans for the seemingly inevitable confrontation with the Batman. In reality, the pale face madman had far sinister ideas rattling about in that twisted brain of his, as he sat there and waited.