551/Institutionalized

Institutionalized
Date of Scene:	22 May 2017
Location:	Gotham City
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Batman, Joker
Tinyplot:	Commissioner Joker

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Batman has posed:
The halls at Arkham Asylum, recently patrolled by former inmates rather than qualified staff, are packed today as the 'new' roster of employees awaits their most eagerly anticipated incoming resident.

The Batman.

He's bound by multiple straitjackets, a series of chains, ropes, and bound to a hand truck. Despite the bonds, Batman's cowl remains in place. The man underneath? That identity doesn't matter.

Batman's teeth are gritted as he's rolled in by Solomon Grundy.

The Calendar Man, standing near the front door with a clipboard in hand, offers a wide grin. "Talk about a red-letter day," he chokes out between giggles.

Joker has posed:
     The nutters are running the madhouse, and for the first time in a long time there's a strangely upbeat atmosphere to the whole place. As Calander man says, it's a Red Letter day and the thugs and super-criminals of this asylum have found themselves in the highest spirits they've been in. Streamers are launched off party poppers fired.

     The lights shine bright and cheery as soft classical music wafts from the speakers of the asylum. Yet rain falls hard against the windows, the sound of thunder hidden under the veneer of pure elated joy. For all the happy memories being made, the flashes of photography there is, as always when dealing with these people a darker undertow to the whole thing.

     Over the intercom there's a crackle, the familiar voice of Deacon Blackfire, soft spoken and controlled. "My children, today we find ourselves in a the presence of the newest member of our flock." He low draw echoing out through the old speakers. "The Batman, finally receiving his just reward in the fires of arkham."

     Batman is lead to a familiar padded cell, thick walls, a prison designed by the man himself to keep the joker in. And yet there have been some modifications made to the temporary holding cell. Across the wall are photographs from the Jokers personal scrap book. Each one is a scene Batman would remember well, mixed in with a few that might seem different, little windows into the potential machinations of the Joker? Or just stage productions meant to addle the brain. Either way he's brought to one side of the meeting room, wheeled into place, and sat on the wrong side of a table he'd spent many a long hour interrogating the Joker behind.

Batman has posed:
While he doesn't struggle wildly against his restraints, Batman's moving--as little as he can--within his straitjacket, as if testing its limits.

As he's wheeled in and set on one side of the table, the dark knight grimaces, his eyes passing over the photos.

"Not a very funny joke," he mutters quietly, and he begins examining the features of the room more closely, limited in his ability to look around. "I guess they can't all be side-splitters."

Joker has posed:
     "I thought it was a knockout." A voice calls out from the room, after the door has been shut and the loonies have left the room. Falling from the ceiling is a black shadow, cape and cowl that rises up from the ground into a stand. The pointed ears the flowing cape, it's clear as day a batman costume, with the chin to match.

     "Then again we don't always see eye to eye do we." His voice is firm, and somewhat graveled, his face covered in a thin layer of stubble as he moves over, before pulling out the chair, and setting down in silence. It doesn't look like joker under the mask, average somewhat tanned complexion with a five o'clock shadow under the hood, and a voice like sandpaper. The costume is more spiked, greys and reds rather then yellows. A spiked batman symbol on the chest and blood red eyes glowing from the darkened cowl. "Admittingly it is missing the usual pies and overblown gloating." As he sets down a small deck of cards onto the metal table.

Batman has posed:
At the sight of the 'Batman' dropping from the ceiling, the restrained caped crusader offers a thin smirk, the corners of his mouth upturned--but lacking any sense of mirth or humor.

"I never thought I'd say this," Batman replies, "but I'm starting to belatedly appreciate that you didn't take the 'dark mirror' or 'copycat' approach."

He glances quickly at the deck of cards. "Planning on a game of Old Maid to pass the time in here with me?"

Joker has posed:
     "You and me both." He bows his head down into his hands for a moment, before just pulling off the mask to reveal the face behind it. A strike of lightning sends the power out for a moment only showing the outline of his face in the shadows of the emergency lighting as he simply lets the hood hang from the neck of his costume, before slowly shuffling cards for a bit of solitaire.

     He doesn't say a word, for the longest time simply fanning out the cards lining them up on the table in front of himself, looking for matches as a single gloved hand rests on his chin. When he does speak he looks up that outline of a man right into the cowl of Batman. "Tell me, how's it been being on the other side of the law." A pause as the lights come on revealing the face of Thomas Wayne. "Bruce."

Batman has posed:
Batman's brow slowly furrows, his eyes narrowing, as the Joker says his name. "I'd ask the same, but we both know you haven't really been on the law's side. Not really." He tilts his head just slightly. "Especially not if your way of showing it is to disguise yourself as a well-known murdered citizen of Gotham."

Batman continues shifting about within his restraints, his speed increased just a tad. The bonds still seem not to budge. "I expect next you'll tell me that I'm the long-lost partner of Captain America, Bucky Barnes." He raises one eyebrow in an exaggerated fashion. "Didn't ruin the punchline, did I?"

Joker has posed:
     "Are either of us really on the laws side son." Spoken in the calm and collected voice of a man who's had himself a rather long life "You know, you could have stopped it." As he just starts finding more matches. There's a rather serious tone to his voice. "Instead you let me and your mother handle it."

     It's clear the joker is getting into character as he speaks looking down towards the cards. "Then again, if you had you wouldn't be you." A light pause as he holds a card up to the side of his face the suit hidden. "And he wouldn't be him." As he flips the card around it's clearly a joker. "Then again maybe it would have happened either way."

     He sets the card down onto the table, sliding it across till it's right in front of Batman. "How many people died because of your little quest." He pauses for a moment. "How many more orphans did you help create?"

Batman has posed:
"Is that a question you really want to have answered?" Batman replies, his gaze squarely pointed at Joker's face, not looking down at the card at all. He sits quiet for a long moment, still slowly working to test his restraints. "Or are you interested in some particular case?"

Batman leans his head back a trivial degree. "Do you think I orphaned someone in particular? Someone who actually matters--mattered--to you? Mourning your own family, perhaps?"

The dark knight's smirk reappears, somewhat more noticeable. "/That/, I think, would be the funniest thing I've heard all day."

Joker has posed:
     "I'm mourning my son." He looks right into the eyes of Bruce's cowl. "The one who died that in that alleyway with us." He doesn't sound very emotional. "The one who always wanted to be a detective." He goes back to playing cards except every so often he adds another card to the small list standing in front of Bruce. "The one who died the night he decided to take the law into his own hands."

     He looks silent for a long moment right into those eyes barely even blinking. There's a look of honest sadness in his eyes behind the stone cold exterior as he takes in a slight breath.

Batman has posed:
The straitjacketed vigilante stares back at 'Thomas,' his expression slowly souring. "It must be very cathartic, then, to talk to a random costumed bat-man about it. A new approach to therapy, perhaps. I've clearly not kept up on psychological scholarship."

He shifts a shoulder, still squarely bound up. "Your story reminds me of a boy I once knew. He died at the hands of a lunatic with a crowbar. If only there'd been a caring doctor in his life to prevent it."

Joker has posed:
     "Bruce....." There's a long pause as his attention drifts back down towards the table. "I need you to realize something, whatever happens here, whatever might transpire, I want you to try, for me, for everyone..." He stops for a long moment. "Have a normal life."

     It's at this point the door swings open, and in strides... Joker? He's dressed in his commissioners uniform and walks right over as the figure of Thomas Wayne seems to dissipate into little more than mist. Joker doesn't even seem to notice as he throws himself down into the chair, feet go up on the table, chair goes back on both legs and he folds his hands behind his head as the door slams shut.

Batman has posed:
As 'Thomas' fades into nothingness, Batman's brow rises in genuine surprise--and he quickly attempts to deaden his expression as the Joker walks in. The vigilante sneaks a glance at the cards on the table ... and sees a dead bat instead.

He sets his jaw and inhales deeply, nostrils flaring. "Commissioner," he says in a tone tinged with sarcasm. "What brings you here? I didn't think I'd already gained visitation privileges."

Joker has posed:
     "And I didn't think inmates were allowed to bring their own snacks" Joker starts from the moment he notices the freshly killed bat on the table in front of Bruce. "But I guess we're both filled with surprises aren't we Batsy." That genuine smile cracking across his face from one ear to the other as he leans forward slamming the legs of his chair on the floor before picking the dead bat up in a single hand.

     "In this cell four hours and already you're going crazy!" Spoken in a low disappointed deadpan voice, before he adds on a quick. "Hoooo, it's not quite so funny when the BOTH of us are doing the crazy routine bucko." He pauses setting both of his hands down one on each side of the table. "Keep wandering into my territory and you're bound to get bit."

Batman has posed:
The straitjacketed superhero attempts to shrug in response, his motion limited. "I suppose, then, that as the commissioner, you'll just have to walk the sane and narrow path to efficient bureaucracy."

Batman offers a toothy smile. "Meanwhile ... I'm a criminal. I'm insane. Or so I'm told. I guess whatever rules I had to abide by just don't apply anymore. I'll tell you," he continues, eyes widening slowly, "it's a bit liberating."

Joker has posed:
     With an over exaggerated motion of his whole body, joker slumps over firmly down onto the table. He's like a rag doll for a quick moment as he lets a long sigh. "How long can we keep this up Brucy" He snaps back into a standing position with almost unnatural speed before he falls hard back on his chair so he can slump into place. "Crime's down lower then ever before, I'm cleaning up more and more corruption." He dawdles on for a moment sounding almost... unhappy at his own success.

     He throws his head back over to the other side to give Batman a glance. "Now you see why we do it?" Light pause. "Well some of us anyway." He lifts his own head just to drop it. "These days it's bureaucracy this, solving problems that, kissing babies, signing autographs. People are happy but no one gets the JOKE!"

Batman has posed:
"Well, what can I say? Nobody laughs /with/ the 'straight man'. You've moved from delivering the punchline to doing the setup work." Batman shakes his head. "It's not quite the same routine, is it? When you've turned the stage over to someone else and it hits you--you've been the opener rather than the headliner all along."

Batman grins again, his head tilting back as he begins to laugh, the sound rising in volume. "The joke's on /you/!"

Joker has posed:
     Joker is silent for a long moment, while bats speaks. There's a moment when he looks defeated before he starts laughing right along with bats. It's a slow build to be sure but he makes it work laughing louder and louder to keep right along. He just keeps laughing and laughing even when Batman inevitably takes a breath he's still just laughing away as he puts a single hand down on the straightjacket.

     Soon he just takes in a deep sighing breath. "Ahhhh hoo." A light pat on Batmans shoulder. "I needed that." He smiles for a long moment. "Ah, but every show needs an intermission my old glumfaced friend." That smile grows knowing as his own laugh becomes a bit darker the shadows on his eyes granting him that bit of intimidation factor from knowing a deeper layer of the joke.

Batman has posed:
As the Joker continues to laugh, Batman's own is quieted, and soon he is silent. His expression turns dark, lip not quite in a sneer.

"I think you're confusing 'intermission' with 'cancellation,' Joker." Batman leans his head away from his nemesis, staring at him from the corner of his eye. "Stray too far from 'humor' into 'art' and you'll find audiences wary of change."

The dark knight shakes his head slowly. "For now ... enjoy your civil service."

Joker has posed:
     "Ahhh" The smile on jokers face turns to a bit of a smirk as he places a single hand on the chin of Batman. "Give it time batsy, in the end you'll have it all figured out, I'll be back behind bars and you can go back to the status quoe" A light tap on the side of his cowl. "Isn't that what you've always wanted?"

     A bit of a grimace comes back as he tilts his head that policemans cap covers more of his face in shadows so just the grin remains. "Not to solve crime, no that'd put you out of a job, which is exactly what I'm doing." Heartbeat. "No, I'd put money on it by the end of the week you and your little band of fanatics will have this cities crime rate back up in the triple digits, and your own little never ending cavalcade of parades and joy will come right back flowing through." He pauses eyes still hidden away with that knowing look.

     "Of course I'll go back to my little crimes, you'll go back to gothams golden boy," Then he tacks on. "but deep beneath it all you're just a little boy in a playsuit crying for mommy and daddy. Yet I'm repeating myself....." As he starts walking back towards the door. "Just remember bats, when they break you out, ask them how many guards they had to go through, I've got a feeling you'll already know the answer." A playing card left face down before Bats right beside the dead bat, from the Acme playing card company.