Joker(#1012Pwfces)

Six foot two, maybe three, this tall, thin man with the chalk-white skin
and the blood-red lips cannot be ignored. His hair is wavy and neatly
combed, dark green. His hands are long and his fingernails are an equally
green color. Blue eyes sparkling with some unguessable mirth stare out of
his long, thin and wholly unmistakable face. His appearance and burbling,
musical, ever-changing voice give him a demented sort of charisma,
attracting and holding the attention of onlookers with the casualness of
the seasoned performer or the long-stalking and now suddenly-visible
predator. 

        At present, he is wearing a long, purple coat that hangs casually
unbuttoned to just above his knees. Beneath that, a single-buttoned blue
suit coat covers a forest green vest and a jet-black dress shirt, adorned
with the spiralling colors of a re d-and-blue ribbon tie, neatly done up
into a knot. His pants are striped light purple on dark purple, and his
shoes, wingtips, are blue on green. A broad purple hat with a dark purple
band adorns his head. All the clothes are masterfully tailored, but they
serve only to further accentuate his bizarre appearance. 

Joker looked you over.

The people at Murphy Research, a small office building stuck next to a
mini-mall, are working late. They have to get the report done by next
week, and they're on the phone, searching computer records, and making
sure everything is perfect, with too few people and for too little pay. 
Things are not going well. First the phones die. (Someone with a pair of
tinsnips saunters away from the building whistling a happy tune.) Second,
the vents stop blowing air. (Someone closes a fusebox and whistles a
different happy tune.) And finally, the front window breaks and a bright
purple canister rolls gently to a halt on the carpet, and bright green gas
starts to billow from it. 

(OOC) Joker says, "For the record, incapacitating laughing gas, but it
does not kill." 

Laughter bursts out of the offices, people grasping at their throats,
freezing in their chairs, slumping against the walls. The Joker, holding a
small purple mask over his face opens the door. "Yoo hoo?" he calls. "Are
you open? I know it's sort of late, but I saw the light..." He wrinkles
his nose and waves his hand, swirling the gas around. "Yuck! All right,
who ate at the Taco Whiz tonight?" 

You paged Cas'Mitter with 'Enter thugs + you.'.

You say "Secure the place, people. I need a -very- attentive audience for
this -very- subtle joke." 

From the look in his eyes, you'd imagine this fellow is either high on
life.. or some other faxsimilty there of.. A wide smile spreads out over
his face, the whites of his eyes completely blood red. Making his way with
the others of the Joker's group, his massive bulk just waits for the
opportunity. His hands shake, mind a turrent of chaos and twisted,
sickness. Oh sure, somewhere down that line, he might have some iota of
goodness to him.. maybe..The man, and those that are with him, quickly
move at Joker's words. Joke? There's a joke to this? He could care less,
its the action that he craves, that and the money that pays for his
countless hours of 'fun'. Drugs, entertainment, and he's going to li ve
the high life.. 

Joker takes out a small pocket mirror and checks his lipstick. Perfect.

Bodies lying everywhere.. Some are still laughing, some just trying to
breath, holding their sides in agony. The man, Nick to his friends, grab
three at once.. sure they happen to be really small people, he still has
to show off.. His bulk is impressive, though his mind is not. One man
thumbs towards a small room at the back. "Okay, Mister Joker 'wants them
in here guys.." Nick is eager to move, his eyes blazing with his own form
of madness as he slings one person in after another. From out of his
mouth, he finds himself chortling at this.. Watching those unconscious
being piled on top of each other..

It takes a bit, as each of the gang work to muscle people into the
conference room at the back of the building, but soon, the area is clear. 
Nick's gaze sweeps down to his own gun. His. Wow.. his.. his own.. the
shining, gleaming silver metal. *ka-chunk* He loads it up.. a wide smile
on his lips as he, like the others, wait for the Joker's command.. Yes..
yes.. lead on oh green-haired one.. Lead on.. the Great Massiah that is
allowing him this luxury.. Several men stay close to the room of the
'hostages', guns aimed at those that would try and move.

One of them, as the thugs backs are turned, reaches up and touch-types
something into the computer. There's a faint beep, and then she pretends
she's unconscious. 

Gordon's intercom buzzes about half an hour later. "Sir, we've got a
situation. Someone received an e-mail saying Murphy Research had been
attacked by the Joker and he cut the phone lines but not the network
cables. The phones there aren't working, and the patrol car I sent out to
watch the place said they saw lights on and someone with a shotgun." 

(OOC) Joker says, "Hero setup time. Then everyone together."

Upon receiving the message the Commissioner is quick to move, almost like
he saw it all coming. "Get me as many people as we can spare, this doesn't
sound like your typical break in. I'll meet them all on there..." He turns
moving towards the rooftop door, pausing only to turn off the Batsignal.

Merkel appears, walkie talkie in hand. "We've got the south block covered,
Commissioner; got your car warmed up..." He pauses as he spies a brief
flutter of something over the rooftop ledge. He shakes his head, then
follows Gotham's top cop. 

(OOC) Joker says, "Okey doke. How do you want to arrive, low-key or
high-key?" 

Gordon nods to Merkel, and would tell the Dark Knight, but for some reason
he figures the man is already gone. 

(OOC) Batman will be taking the grim-stalker-of-the-night rooftop
entrance, if possible. Sneaky. 

(OOC) Gordon says, "Guns blazing! Umm no, but realatively higher key than
Bats." 

(OOC) Joker nods. "Good. I needed some way to work in this IC rant. Gordo,
the patrol car which was watching the place is still there, but it doesn't
respond on the way up. Maybe they are away from their vehicle." 

(OOC) Joker says, "So heroes, keep it comin."

The very, very corners of Nick's mouth start to quiver, as he waits. He
hates waiting. Waiting is bad. BAD I tell you.. He starts fidgeting with
his gun, eyes straying towards the window, then back to his post.. Then
out to the window, then back to his post. Whatever he took is making him
quite antsy, unable to sit quiet, constantly needing to move, do
something. Its only out of respect.. okay fear.. of the Joker that he
doesn't speak up, yell, scream, say something. His muscle quiver, he is a
fine specimen you know, massive, strong, he didn't come on this thing to
sit around and wait! He wants action. Strangely enough, its only been a
few seconds. 

Joker paces back and forth, straightening the people up as they come out
of unconsciousness. Some scream as the first thing they see is a leering
hateful grin on a death-white face. "Oh, look, your tie's crumpled. Here. 
Are you comfortable? Good. Great to see you all here tonight. Anyone here
from New York? No. ell, hey. Just have a seat there. Great. Hi, nice to
see ya." He is bubbling with energy. 

Gordon says over the radio "Okay everyone listen up. Standard procedure,
make sure the area is sealed off, and have the chopper standing by. Merkel
whats the status on the officers on the scene?" He waits and gets his
answer "No response? What do you mean no reponse... dam" He accelerates.

Minutes later, a sable black rapelling cord is fired down onto the rooftop
of the Murphy Research offices. A silent figure makes its practiced way to
the tar-covered surface, keeping low, the tar and his black costume
merging visually into seemingly nothing. There's the sound of something
being unscrewed, and then the interloper begins to lower himself into the
access between the drop tile and the true ceiling. 

Joker's voice floats up through the tile. "What -I- want to know is which
of you is...er...Nick, do you have that notepad I gave you?" Right now
he's rocking up on the toes of his feet and gesturing grandly. God knows
how many people are in that room. God knows how many have guns.

It takes a few seconds, before Nick's brain registers that he's being
spoken to. It takes a couple more before he remembers that, yes, he was
suppose to bring something.. important.. right? OOoh yeah! Putting down
his gun, but briefly, the walking giant lumbers over to the Joker, fishing
out a notebook as his deep, trembling base voice states. "Uh, yeah sure,
boss, right here.." The notepad, albet incredibly crumbled and bent is
offered to the Joker. 

Merkel radios to the Commissioner. "Randall and McKinney are dead." Merkel
says. "Jokertoxin. It's him all right, sir." 

Joker takes the notepad and leafs through the blood-spattered pages. He
sighs at some happy memory. "That reporter had -such- a nice haircut." he
explains to a woman sitting uncomfortably close, then he laughs, low and
soft and empty of meaning, just to fill that space between him and her.
She had stopped crying, but she starts again. "Which one of you..." he
says grandly, "is Ray Sipperman?" 

The police commissioner arrives on the scene with more officers in tow. He
steps out of his car and looks up towards the research center. He is not a
happy camper after the most recent news "Joker... hrm.... " He grabs his
radio "This is Gordon, you know that back up I had standing by? Get them
here now, also have the meds standing by with the Joker kit, yeah you
heard me, he's back." 

Oh what an honor, Nick was able to actually give something happy to the
Joker.. A pride smile is on his lips, as he lumbers back to his place. ... 
Though he now has to wait again. No more action. The gun is plucked back
up, his fingers caressing the metal barrel, before fitting back into
place. Oh great green-haired one.. why all this talk though? Can we not
just off them? Even for this man, though he wants to move, do something
else, he is at least smart enough to not speak it to the Joker. 

After a moment, one of the men is half-edged forward, half-stepping
dazedly forward. "That...ahem...that's me..." he says. The Joker beams. 
"There, that wasn't so hard, was it?" And with one swift motion, he draws
a gun. It's got purple-colored grips with little gold 'J's in it. It's got
a silencer colored like a candy cane. It doesn't move. "So tell me Ray,
you're in charge of the crime statistics project?" Ray nods without
moving, silent. 

Eagerness sweeps into one man's demented, red eyes. Watching the goin ons,
as those in the Joker's gang remain ready, a few watching the streets, a
few others keeping their guns pointed this way and that. Nick starts to
drool a moment, he ruthlessly wipes his mouth with the back of his hand,
waiting.. watching, hoping for the man to have his guts spilled out over
the floor.. Of course, thats what he figures at least. 

Joker grins broadly, his red lips pulling back against his teeth. "See,
I've had this -problem-. I'm taking over this town and people aren't
getting out of my way. Now isn't that just -awful-? It's keeping me awake
nights, really it is." He giggles. "Then it struck me! Why expend all my
effort in erasing them, when you can do it for me! You're the ultimate hit
man, Ray! I'm scared! I'm quakin'!" 

At ground level Gordon has the situation pretty much under control. He
gives a few orders, and calls for the SWAT team. He makes sure the outside
building is secure, and gets updates "Hold tight people, there's still a
lot of people inside there, and I don't need more deaths on this night."

The SWAT team quickly secures the surrounding area very quietly. (Someone
must have drugged them or something.) Even the surrounding alleyways are
easily secured, though if someone is looking out for trouble, securing the
front and back might be problematic.

The Dark Knight listens with restrained disgust, and silent expectation.
He moves a panel aside slightly to peer down at the goings on, and to
count heads. 

The Joker, three thugs (visible), and about ten scared office-people stand
in the conference room. "So Ray, you'

The bulk of the police force is outside the front enterence. Jim looks to
his assistant "Get that chopper airborne detective, and give me a status
report." 

One of those inside with the Joker, Nick fiddles with his gun a moment,
making sure the safety is off, its loaded, how much ammo he has, where the
nearest person is.. What the Joker's doing. His eyes wander the room, as
he fidgets and waits, and fidgets.. Eyes of dull red grow even redder..
hands start shaking again, he needs another fix, and this isn't working..

The Joker, three thugs (visible), and about ten scared office-people stand
in the conference room. "So Ray, you're gonna do this job for me. You're
going to erase all the other syndicates but mine. That means murders are
down ninety percent, robberies down thirty percent, etc. All the numbers
are right there in the computer. Do it. Now." His eyes dance and he
giggles. "Yes! Yes! Yes! Finally free of them all!" He leans over the
woman. "Because if City Hall says it...it -must- be true." He bursts into
shrieking laughter then suddenly slaps his hand over his face. "Oh, but
wait! What if you double-cross me, Ray? Oh, no...that would be -terrible-!
What if you erased them now, then put them back in? How dare you!" The
Joker suddenly flies into a rage, screaming at the top of his lungs. 
"You'll never get away with it, Ray. If the Bonnanos -OR- the Cataglias
ever commit another crime in this town after your report comes out, you're
-all- dead! You erase them right now and make sure they STAY erased! You
got me? DO YOU GET ME?" he shrieks. Ray nods constantly now, sweating as
he types, aware of the Joker's gun pressed steadily towards him. A voice
calls from the hallway. "Boss. Company. The cops are hanging back but
they're out there." 

Joker curses and his eyes narrow. "-Someone- got creative. What, did you
people fall over in Morse Code or something? What kind of corporate drones
do you think you are? Just remember what I said. Crime is -down-, or you
all -die-. Okay, let's scatter, boys."

Gordon gets the most recent estimates and nods. His assistant asks if they
are to move in and the Commissioner shakes his head "Not yet, just make
sure no-one escapes... I'm.. waiting on someone." The officer nods "Yes
sir." 

Cops!? Nick isn't sure if he said it or thought it, gun grasped tightly
into his hands, as he does as he's told.. Cops.. Now there will be some
fun.. His massive form heads for the door, while others in the building
get prepared to move. 

You say "Nick, you and Sorvino go out the front and make a lot of noise.
Steve, you go around and get the car. Ray....catch you later man. You're
an animal! Love doing business with ya." 

Batman pages: Mind if I pull a Batfastone? I want to grab one of your guys
outside of the room and then drop down on the other side of the door. 

You paged Batman with 'Dandy. I have to go more or less right now. So I'm
going to pull a Jokerfastone of my own.'. 

Joker steps into the hall, surrounded by his thugs, laughing, and among
their thick shoulders and watchful gazes, his purple form seems to slip
sideways, leaving nothing but his laughter behind. The back door slams
open then shut, then open again, some gunshots come from there, but
compared to what's about to happen at the front of the building, nobody
really seems to notice. And just like that, he's gone again.