03-01-2009, 10:54 PM
Granted, there will be some spelling errors or issues with grammar. I'd appreciate it if you'd ignore those for now and simply focus on how well you think I portrayed Joker. :3
{ I watched The Dark Knight last night for, like...the fifty-millionth time and found this sample on my computer (I wrote it not long after I saw the movie for the first time). I figured you lot might enjoy it, or whatever... x3 }
He had to have been sitting in that same spot for at least two days now. Was he beyond mortality now? Now that he had managed to strike fear into the hearts of every soul in the entire city of Gothom? Now that he had truly earned the furious wrath of the Batman? The Joker didn't need to sleep or eat or drink, oh no...No, he only needed to think, to improvise ways by which to boggle the mind, weaken the stomach, and crush the spirit of his new nemisis, "Yes...Yes, this city deserves a better class of criminal.." He murmured these things to himself, occasionally chuckling aloud in a strange, sing-song way. He'd nearly finished scribbling random words and images on his newspaper, his left hand fingering the trigger of his Tommy Gun as his bloodshot eyes poured over the mess of diagrams before adding one last swirling mark. Who would have been able to read or understand anything he had just written down? No one but himself, for only the Joker seemed truly aware of what was happening at any given moment..
He paused, staring blankly down at the table before him. A gentle creaking sound had caught his attention. His fist tightened around the handle of his weapon, his tongue running across his lips and the inside of his mouth in a nervous manner as adrenaline began to fill his bent form.
Someone was entering his apartment..
The Narrows wasn't exactly a safe place. Ever since that outbreak of violence a few years ago, the entirety of the city's slum had gone to the most insane and sickly creatures the world had seen. The poinsonous gas that had been unleashed in the district's water supply still lingered on the smog-laden atmosphere even now. It hadn't been an unusual occurence, then, that every now and again some randow person would attempt to break into his room. After a while, the man had simply left the door unlocked for anyone to enter as they pleased..
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the dark silouhette of what appeared to be....a child? No, there were two of them. Two children, their eyes glazed over with the remnants of their own broken souls as they stared with blank, hollow faces at the man that sat in the dark corner opposite them. Their breathing...He could hear it from where he sat; it was rough and uneven, as if they had been running far and for a long time, though he doubted that either had even left this part of the city even once in their lives. The man waited, listening still as the first child, a boy, pushed the door open farther and leaned inside the room to get a better look at the surroundings. The little girl behind him did nothing accept cling to the first child's arm in hopes of recieving protection. The Joker did nothing for a long while, simply waiting and watching and listening as the boy took a second step into the apartment.
In little more than a split second, the Tommy Gun was off the table and firing round after round at the door. Bullet holes imediately began to fill the blank, white walls of the room, but, thankfully, none tasted flesh. The children had disappeared, the front door of the room swinging wide open to reveal an empty hallway. The man, who hadn't even bothered to look away from his notes until now, slowly pushed his chair away and got to his feet. In his usual limping swagger, the man walked slowly across the small apartment called out in a loud, harsh voice, "..I do balloon animals too, kids--!" before slamming the door closed again.
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