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Post by missj on Jul 31, 2011 19:42:16 GMT -5
The drip, drip, drip of the condensation falling from the cluster of water pipes above the cell continued to echo through the cement dungeon; the music of incarceration. There was a constant shuffling of feet through intensive treatment ever since the FBI had infiltrated Gotham and had begun rounding up anyone who was even slightly considered deranged. Though, the Joker still hadn’t seen any vigilantes marched into Arkham. He was still keeping his fingers crossed.
Regardless, the Joker had spent his time playing mind games with the delusional people who thought they could actually get through to him and plotting his escape from this hell hole. It would all work out flawlessly. As the security had been raised, the open cafeteria had been closed down and all members of the asylum were served their meals in their cells. This would be when he struck.
Meal time was the only time the Joker was allowed to have his ankle shackles and straight jacket removed. Of course, he was held at gun point by the guard who had brought him his food. This, of course, was all part of the plan. He needed a weapon, after all. What better than a guard issued hand gun? Of course, this also meant he would have to wait. In order to make sure his escape would work, the Joker would have to wait until the asylum was overflowing with crazies. If the asylum was full, the guards would be too busy to completely focus on the Joker. If only he could get his hands on explosives…
That would have to wait for when he emptied the asylum for Batsy. There were too many vigilantes in the city. They needed something to do, after all. For now, he would just wait. For the opportune moment.
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Last Edit: Jul 31, 2011 20:37:19 GMT -5 by saxman59
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Post by saxman59 on Jul 31, 2011 20:36:22 GMT -5
Roman made his way down the dark hallway. The drip, drip, drip of the condensation on the stone floor was maddening. It had been child's play to get the guard on dinner duty to "miss work" that day. Taking his place had been even simpler. Using about a half gallon of makeup to conceal his scars and tinted contacts to hide his deep red eyes was a little annoying, but anything to get the job done.
Striding down the hallway with a deep sense of purpose, Roman sorted thought the keys on his belt, selecting the one on his belt that unlocked the door to the Joker's cell. But this was no ordinary key. Inside was a tiny micro-chip that had to be activated in addition to the tumbler's in the lock. Sliding in the key, he unlocked the door and strode in.
"Evening, Joker. Hope your hungry. The meatloaf is explosively good." The statement was way to literal. The "meatloaf" was actually a highly illegal, highly explosive gel, disguised to look as a delicious loaf constructed of meat. Just stick in a firing rod disguised as a plastic drinking straw, and stand well back. It was also a shaped charge, so the blast would only go in one direction.
After unlocking the shackles around the Joker's legs, he handed the Joker a tray with a note taped underneath it, and walked from the room, locking the door behind him. The note read:
Dear Joker,
I don't often mess around with the insanity of Gotham, but desperate times call for even more desperate measures. As you may have already heard, the FBI has taken over all of Gotham. Now, it's time to take it back. All you do is stick the straw to your juice into the meatloaf, put it 8 inches under the steam pipe on your back wall, and duck. The meatloaf is coated in adhesive, so it will stick to your wall. Best of luck, and I'll see you on the other side.
Deeply Yours,
Roman Sionis
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Post by missj on Jul 31, 2011 21:28:52 GMT -5
The Joker peeled his straight jacket from his body as he stretched out his newly freed legs. It felt good to be free; even if it were only temporary. The guard's demeanor caught him off guard as he listening to his words. He was a curious fellow, to say the least. It wasn't until he placed his hands under the tray that he realized exactly what was going on. This crazy S.O.B. planned to break him out.
He read the note with a small grin on his face, not changing his mannerisms as to not alarm anyone around him in the slightest. It was a desperate time in Gotham when the Black Mask was coming to someone like the Joker for help. Nevertheless, he wouldn't turn down to get out of this dreary place. How was a guy supposed to get sane in a place like this?
Setting his tray down on the floor, the Joker began to fiddle with his shoe laces. Of course, this was until he 'knocked' the straw under his cot. He moved so his back was towards the glass, fiddling with the explosives as instructed before standing back in the corner.
A few seconds later, Arkham was rocked with an explosive blast that left a gaping hole in the back of the Joker's cell. He placed his hands on his hips, staring at freedom with glee. He breathed in the crisp air, sighing joyfully. "Free at last, free at last! God almighty, I'm free at last!"
He skipped out through the hole in the wall, buttoning up his green vest over his purple dress shirt. The alarms blaring in the background was like music to his ears. How good it felt to be free.
After hopping one of the barb wired fences, the Joker spotted a dark figure standing under a large oak tree in the distance. "My savior!" He skipped forward until he was only a few feet away from the dark figure. "So what's this gunna cost me?"
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Last Edit: Aug 1, 2011 17:52:33 GMT -5 by saxman59
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Post by saxman59 on Aug 1, 2011 17:50:27 GMT -5
Roman lit a cigarette. "What it's going to cost you is immaterial. I don't require money; I need your services. I've decided that Gotham is a little bit too quiet. Time to cause some mayhem. What do you say?"
Taking a long drag from his cig, he casually drew a small bottle from the inside of his jacket, unstopped it, and threw the liquid inside it onto the chain-link fence. It wasn't every day one saw a steel fence dissolve into a puddle on the ground.
"All I ask is that you help me get rid of these FBI jerks. Refuse, and I send you back to your comfortable little cell. No explosive food this time. What do you say?
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Post by missj on Aug 2, 2011 10:50:40 GMT -5
The Joker, feeling as gracious as a mad man could feel, decided to let the Mask's threat fall to the ground unnoticed. He wasn't in the mood to fight an unnecessary battle; especially right outside Arkham. "If it's mayhem you want, my friend, then it's mayhem this city will get." He skipped through the opening in the chain link fence before looking back at Arkham and blowing it a kiss.
He skipped forward, looking towards Black Mask before stopping abruptly. "I'd assume we aren't hitch hiking back to Gotham? I didn't bring my running shoes." He giggled softly at his cleverness before focusing back on the task at hand. "I'm afraid Harley is a little under the weather. So, can I hitch a ride with you, pal?" He gave him a pleading grin, complete with puppy dog eyes before busting into laughter again.
The crisp night air felt so refreshing on his face. The Joker inhaled deeply, smelling the ash and brimstone hanging in the air; the after effects of the explosion. It was inspiring.
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