Reserved at Ataraxion

[like_a_leper]

Hrm...

You want to send me into outer space, in a confined space with a bunch of other people because you happened to come across a persuasive "god" of chaos?

OK, the chaos thing I like, but everything else is questionable. I mean, I won't even have my favorite knife on me - there's a line that should never be crossed and you're toeing it. My ability to improvise can only be relied on so much.







Nah, scratch all of that. This is going to be a hoot and a half if only because I'll get to be creative.

Comments

[heltersskelter]

Can I ask you something?

[like_a_leper]

You can ask whatever you want, though you may not like the answer that I give you.

[heltersskelter]

How'd you get those scars?

[like_a_leper]

Do you want the truth, or do you want a story?

[heltersskelter]

I wouldn't really know the difference, would I?

[like_a_leper]

But I would.

[He doesn't wait for an answer though before launching into the first story that comes to mind. It might be the real story of how his face got carved up, it might not be, because today he doesn't quite know the difference between his past and what he fabricates to cover the holes in his memory.]

Once upon a time I had... a problem or two with some pretty hard drugs and like many other people the same problems got wildly out of hand and I couldn't pay my dealer what I owed him. And, ah, well, you see - when you owe a high tier dealer money they will sometimes give you options.

oh my god this thread LMAO

[heltersskelter]

[you have his bemused but undivided attention Joker.

he hasn't.

blinked.]

I can't even. Haha.

[like_a_leper]

[Well, since he has such a captive audience he's going to get riiiight up close to this curious little thing and give him a better look of his partially mangled face.]

So, I got to choose - work off my debt or die on the spot. No man likes to face death, so I did what was only natural and decided to become a runner. But that wasn't... wasn't a good choice, no. You see, once an addict. always an addict and instead of pushing my product I consumed it.

[He licks at his lips where they split on the left side, the more severely cut side, as if he can still taste his own blood.]

I consumed it and the dealer decided that I was out of choices, and that death was off the table. He wanted me to suffer, to make an example out of me. And so he took his switch blade in one hand [Oh, hi, he pulls a blade out of his pocket like fucking magic and holds it up to his own face, which is close enough to the kid's.] and my face in the other and carved a great big symbol of how untrustworthy I was right... across... my face.

[heltersskelter]

[Tate doesn't flinch, not when that grinning face leans in close, not when he licks the scarred edge of his mouth. he doesn't move when the knife clicks open, close enough that the man could carve his own face right open.

instead, there's a heartbeat of silence. Tate staring, not looking away, before the smile slowly crawls across his mouth like discovery]

Bullshit.

[like_a_leper]

[Well then, that succinct answer earns a harsh little laugh from him and he may have accidentally drawn a tiny bit of his own blood by pressing the blade against his cheek in thought. It's a quick moment of thought, really.]

Do you have a better story, hrm? Were you there when the blade was pressed into my mouth?

[And bless his little black heart, he doesn't put the bloody tip of the blade into the kid's mouth, but he does wipe it on his unmarred cheek. There's a quick flick of his wrist and maybe he left a scratch but it's not real damage.]

[heltersskelter]

Maybe I was.

[Tate's head cocks to the left, away from the blade but the remains of what happened are still there. a fine line on his cheek and a smear of Joker's blood.]

Maybe it was drugs, maybe you took one too many after the boys at the office pushed you around one too many times. Or maybe you didn't. Maybe it doesn't matter. Because fuck them, right? Who says you can't have fun? Why so serious, they said, well nobody can say you're serious now, can they?

[he might look a little too earnest, grin with a little too much teeth.]

You're just the life of the party.

[like_a_leper]

[There are days when he remembers with intense clarity what had happened, what he had done, what was done to him and those days were the ones where he was especially vicious and cruel. The kid should count his lucky stars that he was just making things up right now otherwise? He might have had a hard time spewing random conjecture and mocking him to his face with a slit throat.]

You watch far too many movies - I've never worked in an office, how could I suffer the indignity of cubicles and office politics?

[He flicks the knife closed before pocketing it, not bothering to wipe at the blood slowly oozing down his jaw, mixing with the grease paint already covering his skin.]

No, no. You're just bad at this game, is all.

[heltersskelter]

[Tate rolls his eyes; maybe he's goading, maybe he's playing along-- maybe he's just a little fanboy meeting his villainous idol. either way, he seems to be enjoying himself.]

Nobody's good at your game, Joker. That's the point.

[like_a_leper]

No, no, no, there is someone who is good at my game - he might not always win, but he doesn't lose.

[And just like that his whole demeanor shifts, just because of the mere thought of the Batman. Hey, when the object of his obsession just suddenly gone, he has a right to get a little wistful.]