snowblindrpg | [log] if you were a country [closed]

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[log] if you were a country [closed]

Characters: Magenta Magenta and the Joker
Location: House 21, in Residential Zone One
Date: Evening 271.
Summary: The Joker "suggests" to a "friend" that he do a "favor". Syringes are involved. This won't end well.
Warnings: Typical Snowhell medical fuckery, needles specifically. Will change as needed.

[The building is flooded, because of course it is, because it's just his luck, because Magenta Magenta can't ever catch a goddamn break in this awful town and it's already nearing dark so he probably won't have time to find anywhere else and, goddamn it, it'll have to do. Water and all. At least there seems to be a second floor.

He carefully picks his way through the standing water with his boots in his hands--it'd be a shame to get them wet and then go back out in the cold, he reasons--before finally reaching the staircase to the blessedly dry second floor. It's such a relief, in fact, that he doesn't take any of his usual precautions in searching the upstairs rooms, instead just charging ahead into the master bedroom without a care in the world.

Well. Maybe one care, because he knows exactly who he finds.]

You again!?

[Magenta physically recoils in a tense mix of surprise and fear, shoes in hand, but he doesn't leave. Doesn't want to leave, necessarily, with lockdown on the horizon and a foot of water to wade back through, and why would he leave, anyways? The Joker doesn't want to hurt him. He said as much. Then again, though, how much is the word of someone like him worth?]

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[Joker crouches with his hyena, thinking sour thoughts.

The Bat is dead, Harley is back but can't remember ever being here... That's not unusual for this place but she seems angry with him and that is incredibly irritating. Somehow he's going to have to lure her back in.

It never hurts to have a few pawns in this miserable place.

When Magenta walks in he brightens.]

Maggie, my good man! How are you doing?

...Dearie me, you don't seem happy to me.

[Magenta crouches to the floor against the wall, more instinctively than anything else. More than ever, he feels the absence of his Stand like a physical hole in his chest, like a weight horrifically removed from his shoulders, like a missing friend. It would help to have it, he thinks.

But the Joker won't hurt him, so he forces the thought out of his mind, peering across the room with his one good eye.]

Don't call me that.

[Have to get that out of the way, first. It's not that he minds the nickname--it was Harley's favorite, after all--but it sounds like a threat coming out of this man's mouth.]

And I'm f-fine. You're looking nicer.

"Nicer"? That's a funny word to describe me.

[The hyena rolls onto his back.]

I just mean--y'know. You look less hurt n'tired than the last time I really saw you. Ear, and all.

[Magenta clicks his tongue at the hyena, patting the ground in front of him. For all his apprehensions about the Joker, Lou is always a good doggy, and he forces himself to relax, taking his hat off. The Joker promised not to hurt him. The Joker has no reason to hurt him--not anymore.

He likes the clown, anyways. Probably more than strictly healthy.]

What've you been up to?

Oh, you know, freezing my knickers off, draining blood outta frost mummies.

[Lou walks up to Magenta and waits expectantly for a pat.]

[Magenta obliges, paying what seems like full attention to the hyena before stopping cold at the Joker's words.]

You're...what?

[And, just like that, whatever animosity that remains melts away into complete and total interest, any hesitation forgotten. (He does, however, continue to pet Lou. That's just common courtesy.)]

I mean--obviously, we're all freezin' our knickers off, but what's that about frost mummies? You some kind'a vampire?

No, I'm a scientist. Beckett is the vampire, get it right.

[Lou kicks his back paws happily]

Tell me, Magenta, do you like science?

I don't know, honestly? That's a tiny bit vague. I'm fond of airplanes, and guns, and pies, and I guess science made all those things happen, so I reckon I like science just fine. I didn't know you were a scientist, though! Thought you were just a clown. Are you both at the same time? That's dedication!

[He smiles fondly at the hyena, continuing to pet it, though he still keeps his attention fixed on the Joker.]

Why do you ask? About the science, I mean.

Well, you see, handsome...

[Buttering Magenta up for the inevitable.]

I have an experiment in mind and I happen to need a test subject.

Test subject? I don't--

[Magenta thinks about it for a moment, before clapping his hands in the delight of realization. The compliment makes him smile in an unusually bashful way, only adding to the strangeness of the moment.]

Oh, you want to pick me!

[His smile only grows.]

What d'you need me for?

[Joker reaches into his pack and pulls out a syringe full of foul goo.]

How d'you feel about needles?

[The smile becomes something more akin to a grimace in a single second.]

I mean, I can't say I like 'em, but does anyone?

[Joker returns the grimace.]

...You'd be surprised.

Mm, if that's your way of tellin' me your proclivities, then I'd rather not hear about it. Since I'm really hopin' it's not, what's the needle got to do with me?

[He's sure he knows, but better not jump to conclusions. Exhaling, he runs a hand through his hair. This could go very badly.]

Well I gotta say poking folks with em can be good for a yuck.

[He twirls the syringe.]

But that's not what this is about.

This is about this little syringe being filled with the blood of a dead townsman you owing me a favor.

What are you--since when do I owe you a favor?

[This just keeps getting worse and worse, but he forces himself to stay calm and collected for once in his life. It's not as successful as he would like. He's not a scientist, but he knows exactly where this is going.]

I don't owe you shit. What are you doing?

[Joker manages to look wounded.]

Why...you owe me because you filled to kill Johnny-boy, of course...

Have you forgotten?

I sure hope not...

[He's moments away from darting back downstairs, braving hell or high water--literally--and getting the hell out of this place, even at the risk of being locked out, because at least that sounds like a more pleasant way to go that whatever will happen to him if he's stuck with that syringe, which is looking more and more likely with every second he stays put.

But then Joker mentions John--Johnny, rather, which he knows the man in question wouldn't like--and he freezes where he is. Right. There's probably a threat there, but he misses it in the inherent disappointment of it all. He hates disappointing people. When he speaks again, it's quiet and careful.]

Right. You're--you're right. Sorry.

[Joker watches Magenta's reaction closely and greens a toothy grin at the eventual response.]

Good man. Come here and have a seat.

[He taps a toe against the floor in the corner of the room, a spot that would be difficult to escape from.]

[Reluctantly, Magenta stands up and shuffles over to where he's directed, keeping a wary eye on the Joker as he goes. Vaguely, there's something he resents about the implication that not killing John was a failure, but it's overshadowed by his need to please even the most despicable of people.

As he starts to pull off his coat, it's stunningly easy to see how much the bulk of it hides how utterly frail he looks underneath.]

You done this before? The--the injection thing, I mean. Is that a science thing? I thought you were a clown, not a doctor, or somethin'.

Edited 2017-09-25 01:49 (UTC)

You'd be surprised how often an injection or two comes up in the name of comedy.

[He crouches down next to Magenta.]

Now count to three and don't worry, I won't feel a thing.

Hey--hey!

[Magenta skitters back into the corner as far as he can go, looking distinctly alarmed with one hand on his half-rolled sleeve and the other pointing accusingly. However, he doesn't make any effort to run, simply staying crouched on the ground.]

You--shouldn't you do somethin' before stickin' me with that? Bit of alcohol, or whatever--you know. For health.

Really, now, Mags, what's the worst that can happen?

[He arches a brow.]

I could die!

[His already whiny voice kicks up into something more hysterical as he tries to make himself as small as possible in the corner, away from the syringe.]

Just--I don't know. I guess you're the expert, but ple~ease be careful!

Oh, please, I always am.

[And he jabs forward towards Magenta's arm with the syringe with no real regard for safety.]

[He wants to scream and move away, but for once, he considers things rationally and figures that moving around when there's a needle in his system isn't exactly going to make things better, so he stays put with a hand over his mouth to keep from crying out, praying a rare prayer that he won't die.

After a few moments, he cracks open an eye to peer at his own arm suspiciously.]

--S'it done?

[Joker stands up with the now empty syringe.]

Sure is, sport, how do ya feel?

[Magenta frowns, holding his fingers over the injection point in some futile attempt to stop the bleeding. On his wrists, there seem to be almost similar scars: tiny, uneven dots running the length of the side of his forearm.]

That was mean! You should be more careful.

Oh, don't be so dramatic, that's my shtick.

[He waves a dismissive hand.]

If I wanted to hurt you, I promise you'd be in far more pain

Now, how do you feel?

[Magenta scowls, rolling his sleeve back down.]

It hurts like a bitch, but otherwise I'm fine. No thanks to you! Wouldn't it take a little while, anyways?

Depends on what's gonna happen.

[He squints.]

We could be in for one heck of an evening. Or a dull one.

I'd rather have a dull one, honestly!

[He starts to say something like you owe me, but then remembers that this whole ordeal was, in fact, because he owed Joker something first, and he decides that it's just not worth getting into all of that. He takes off his hat to turn it nervously in his hands, eyes wide.]

D'you think I'll get sick? Or will something else happen?

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[log] if you were a country [closed]

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Sorry I seem to have missed a few notifs!

no worries!

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