1403: Arkham Asylum – Chapter OnePosted: May 2, 2016
Title: Arkham Asylum
URL: Chapter 2
Critiqued by batjamags and SUPERCILIOUS THE SORCERER!
Hello once again, patrons! I’m your guest host (don’t think too hard about that), BatJamags.
Last time in Grimdarkham Asylum: A pretentious-ass poem that made the Arkham doctors sound either like total sadists or total incompetents babbled about Batman’s rogues gallery in what must’ve been a Batman/Captain Obvious team-up, and then summed the DRD on me. Lovely.
Since I’ve decided to continue inflicting this upon myself, I’ve brought in someone who’s less of a smartass than Kane. Say hi, S!
S: BEHOOOOOLD! I AM SSSSSSSUPERCILIOUS, THE SOOOOOOOOORCEREEEEEEEEER! AND YOU! SHALL! KNEEEEEEEEEL!
Geez, man! Could you keep it down a little?
SUPERCILIOUS THE SORCERER!: Hark, he yet stands! Was it not ordained in the prophecies of the gods, that all would kneel before me, SUPERCILIOUS THE SORCERER?! No, perhaps that time has not yet come… THEN I SHALL GAIN POWER THROUGH THIS RIFF!
Why do I do this to myself?
This guy discovered that he had an innate aptitude for magic, got drunk on power, and stayed that way. He knows he’s going to conquer the multiverse, but he doesn’t have a plan on how that’s going to happen.
SUPERCILIOUS THE SORCERER!: YOU FOOL! MY PLAN IS SO COMPLEX, YOUR FEEBLE MIND CANNOT BEGIN TO COMPREHEND IT!
Sure, buddy. Why do I get stuck with these guys all the time?
I’m not sure he even gets the concept that I’m writing him.
The chapters of this will most likely be short, and with unknown lengths of time between updates. I don’t even know if I will ever finish this story. Consider it an experiment on my part. For now it shall be rated T.
Okay, standard author’s note stuff.
If I continue to a certain point it may become M rated, and if by fanfictiondotnet standards it goes beyond M (I.E. extensive gore or sex scenes) then I will place a warning in the summary and at the beginning of the chapters that this is rated MA.
Well, shit. I did not sign up for an M fic. Well, I probably did and didn’t notice it, but shut up.
SUPERCILIOUS THE SORCERER!: SHUT UP? YOU SHALL NOT SILENCE THE VOICE OF TRUE POWER!
I’m going to have a headache by the time we’re done here.
I only own OCs. Not Batman or the Joker or anything you recognize.
SUPERCILIOUS THE SORCERER!: YOU MAY OWN THE OCS, BUT SOON I SHALL OWN THE MULTIVERSE!
SUPERCILIOUS THE SORCERER!: YES, BUT I, ON THE OTHER HAND, AM A SQUARE!
SUPERCILIOUS THE SORCERER!: NO, A CUBE! NO, A TESSERAAAAAAAACT!
The Joker is the first to notice him.
Well, this guy’s off to a bad start. Got noticed by the Joker.
That first time, it’s nothing more than a semi-interested glance, because, well, it’s the first time the bat has managed to throw him in Arkham and he’s been casting semi-interested glances at everyone. There are a few interesting characters in here aside from himself, like that pretty redhead who obsesses over plants, and that scarecrow fellow who loves making people scream.
*PISTOL-WHIP!* CALL THEM BY THEIR FUCKING NAMES!
SUPERCILIOUS THE SORCERER!: Lo, the heathen beats the fic, but carries no weapon!
Oh, sorry. I should introduce you. This is Benny the Imaginary Pistol. He doesn’t exist because I don’t own a gun (other than the Door Launcher), but he works well enough against stupid fanfiction, don’t you, Benny?
Benny the Imaginary Pistol: *Fails to answer, partly due to the fact that he’s Imaginary, and partly due to the fact that if he were real, he wouldn’t be able to talk because he’s a gun*
Thassa good boy.
The person is less a person and more a big blob of matted graying hair. The hair is long and everywhere and looks like it hasn’t been washed in years. There’s dirt and grime and bits of leaves and twigs and things in it. It covers the man’s? Woman’s? Form entirely from view. He’s never seen the strange hair-blob-person before, but he assumes from the grayish color of the hair that the likely insane patient is simply very old and hasn’t been out of Arkham in a long time.
Well, at least our Stu (Oh, sorry, we’re not supposed to know what gender he is yet. I don’t give a shit.) isn’t starting out overly handsome. Still, there’s just something odd about the idea of hair growing in such a way as to completely obscure all of his (/her) physical characteristics.
However, until you get a name, and possibly after that, your name will be Hairy. Hairy Stu.
Once this assumption has been made
*PISTOL-WHIP!* I am being made angry by the passive voice being used by this fic.
SUPERCILIOUS THE SORCERER!: YOUR SENTENCE IS MAKING MY HEAD HURT, FOOL!
As it should.
his eyes move elsewhere and he skips away to torment the orderlies because, really, how can he not? They make it so much fun with how downright terrified of him they are.
Oh, please. What can an imprisoned serial killer do to the orderlies?
The next time he bumps into the hair-blob, quite literally, he offers more than a passing glance.
It’s maybe his third time in Arkham and he’s been assigned a new doctor. A sweet, innocent little thing with blonde hair. He can taste the madness in her and thinks this might be worth staying a little longer at Arkham than he normally would. After all, messing with people for a few laughs is what he does best, aside from explosions, and if he can even get a quick fuck or two out of it , well then, why not?
Hello, random tangent about Harley Quinn.
Y’know, I’m not sure the Joker even has a sex drive. Sure, I’ve seen him written that way, but it just seems off, somehow. Like, he gets extremely violent, but is almost never shown committing sex offences. It’s not like he has any moral code restricting him, so I generally feel like he just doesn’t care. That’s just me though.
He’s spinning around in the lunchroom like he’s dancing with an invisible partner when he feels himself crash into someone.
Crazy =/= Does random shit because it seems weird
SUPERCILIOUS THE SORCERER!: DO YOU NOT DANCE WITH INVISIBLE PARTNERS?
SUPERCILIOUS THE SORCERER!: PLEBEIAN.
He wobbles but doesn’t fall, though from the sound of a thump and a crashing tray accompanied by the splat of that muck they serve here hitting the ground; he knows whoever he has hit is not so lucky.
Hairy Stu fell but the Joker didn’t. Seven words to say everything in that run-on sentence with a misplaced semi-colon. I’d be disappointed, but I’ve seen worse, honestly.
He is mildly surprised to see the elderly-hair-blob-person and mockingly offers a hand. Everyone in this place is terrified of him, including the other patients, and so he doesn’t think for a second that the hair-person-creature will take it. So imagine his shock when a too-pale hand with long, bony, pianist-fingers wraps gently around his own.
Pianist fingers? I love it when a Stu/Sue is supposed to look like shit, but the author uses it as an opportunity to wax poetic about how great they are.
SUPERCILIOUS THE SORCERER!: I ALWAYS LOOK GREAT.
Sure you do, Mr. Bathrobe-and-a-silly-hat.
SUPERCILIOUS THE SORCERER!: MY CROWN IS NOT SILLY! AND YOU FORGET MY FANCY CAPE! *Cape flourish*
He pauses only a moment before smirking in dark amusement and pulling the thing to it’s feet.
*Holds up hand* Hold on just a moment. **PISTOL-WHIP!*s fic for using the wrong form of “its.”*
There we are. Gong away.
The hair-person’s grip is gentle, almost fragile, like they’re weak.
As opposed to people who have gentle, fragile grips and are strong.
SUPERCILIOUS THE SORCERER!: HARK! WHAT SORCERY IS THIS!
It’s the DRD. Pardon me a moment.
*Picks up an Imaginary assault rifle and charges out into the hallway*
SAY HELLO TO MY LITTLE- *Headshotted in the head*
*Respawns in pajamas and a nightcap*
SUPERCILIOUS THE SORCERER!: NOW IS NOT THE TIME FOR NAPPING! WE MUST DO BATTLE WITH THIS FIC!
Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.
He doesn’t release the hand right away and instead chooses to study it a moment. His frightening grin turns into a rare frown at the odd sight.
(As the Joker) My god, it’s… it’s… A HAND!
The pale, nearly white, skin is thin and soft like old parchment and stretched tight over the bones. This person is much much too skinny, almost as though they don’t eat and he wonders at that.
Of course Hairy Stu doesn’t eat. It wouldn’t be TRAJEK otherwise.
He is not worried; the Joker doesn’t worry about anyone but himself, he is merely curious. After all, the doctors here go through an awful lot of trouble to keep them all physically healthy, and so the sight of someone so clearly unhealthily thin is a little unusual.
I don’t know, I just don’t see the Joker being concerned about this kind of stuff. Why does he care how well the doctors treat the inmates? Being the Joker, he’d assume they were being cruel to this guy because they’re just as crazy as he is.
That is not what makes him frown though. Rather it is the look of the skin. While covered in dirt and bits of what might be food or maybe blood, and having torn and too-long nails, the skin is too smooth. There are no wrinkles, no age spots, no moles. It is smooth and silky and pure. It is the skin of someone young, their thirties at the absolute most, not someone old. It makes the mass of grayish hair confusing. After all, what kind of young person has grey hair?
A Stu, that’s what kind. But seriously, “smooth and silky and pure?” Does this guy look like shit, or is he SO PRETTY?
SUPERCILIOUS THE SORCERER!: HE COULD NOT POSSIBLY BE AS PRETTY AS ME!
I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.
He grins again though, tossing the thoughts to the side and notes with interest that the oddly-young-hair-blob’s frail grip never falters. This being, weird as it is, does not fear him, and that only make’s his smile wider; stretched even more by the scars on either side of his lips. He absently runs his tongue along them as he lets the hair-blob pull away and wander off.
The Joker’s reaction to someone being unimpressed by his attempts to intimidate them would probably be less “notes with interest” and more “how dare you not be scared by me?”
He doesn’t notice that the room has fallen silent, everyone having stared at the strange occurrence with open-faced horror. They cower from his bemused grin but he oblivious to them. His eyes are on the grey-hair-thing as it wanders away, out of the room and possibly back to it’s cell.
OH MY GOD HE HELPED A PERSON STAND UP, IT’S THE END OF THE WORLD!
It really isn’t. I’d say it’s …
Yeah, dull and grim.
SUPERCILIOUS THE SORCERER!: YES, BUT SOON THE LINE’S LIFE WILL COME TO AN END!
First of all, that was terrible. Second of all, that would be a ray, not a line, wouldn’t it?
SUPERCILIOUS THE SORCERER!: A RAY? LIKE MY DEATH RAY OF DOOM?
Man, I really didn’t need to hear about your “death ray of doom.”
SUPERCILIOUS THE SORCERER!: HUH?
The third time, is when he is breaking out of Arkham for what must be the fifth or sixth time; he’s no longer keeping track.
*In an awful Cowboy voice* Ya might want to reconsider that there comma splice, pardner.
SUPERCILIOUS THE SORCERER!: BY THE GODS! WHAT DAGGERS ARE THESE THAT PIERCE MY EARS?!
Sorry about that.
His little Harley had made friends with the plant-chick and the redhead is busting them out because of it.
*PISTOL-WHIP!* *PISTOL-WHIP!* *PISTOL-WHIP!*
Poison. Ivy. Her name is Poison Ivy, so stop beating around the bush (no pun intended) and call her by her FUCKING name.
There are these dark green vines swirling everywhere, latching onto anyone and everyone and wrapping taut around their necks until they snap.
Yes, they are attacking [person] and [individual] in [place]. I’m sure the void can be more formless than this, but right now, this is how I describe the setting as the author has described it to me:
There are lots of vines, which are, in fact, green. As opposed to all those blue vines.
That’s not quite a redundancy, but watch yourself, author.
It is almost sentient. Maybe it is sentient. But it never attacks him or Harley or a few of the others he knows for a fact Ivy has injected with that serum of hers that tells the plants they’re friends.
1: How did she do that?
2: Could you phrase that sentence more awkwardly? I’m not sure it’s making me *headdesk* hard enough.
SUPERCILIOUS THE SORCERER!: PERHAPS I COULD FIND A WAY IN WHICH ONE COULD PHRASE THAT SEQUENCE OF WORDS WHICH OTHERS MIGHT OR MIGHT NOT FIND TO HAVE BEEN MORE AWKWARD!
He also knows for a fact that hair-blob is not among those she has injected.
How? Show, don’t tell, author.
Yet he can see the boy? Girl? Man? Woman? Not too far from him with the vines twirling and wrapping around their feet but not attacking them. It’s almost like they’re curious about the person or simply saying hello. A pale hand reaches out of the hair-blob and pats one of them gently in response to this.
*A platform with various equipment on it rises out of the floor from under Supercilious’ feet, knocking him over*
SUPERCILIOUS THE SORCERER!: THIS IS AN INSULT!
Oh, shut up.
*Assembles the equipment and slams a large red button on the resulting console twice*
Gary Stu Counter: 2
One for being noticed by the Joker because of INDIGO or CERULEAN or something like that, and one for not being attacked by Poison Ivy’s vines.
The real reason is because he’s speshul and youneek and trajek.
Joker sees that though the hand shakes slightly in weakness, it does not shake in fear.
And you can tell the difference … how? Ah, yes, blue, I forgot.
SUPERCILIOUS THE SORCERER!: TRULY, BLUE IS THE MIGHTIEST COLOR!
In a split moment of decision, fueled by curiosity and the intrigue of a new puzzle, he rushes over and stand in front of the blob to speak to it.
*Singing* Beware of the blob! Beware of the blob! It creeps, and crawls, on floors, and walls –
SUPERCILIOUS THE SORCERER!: MY EEEEEEEEAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!
GAH! What about my ears?!
SUPERCILIOUS THE SORCERER!: YOU BROUGHT THIS PUNISHMENT ON YOURSELF, MORTAL.
Oh, shut up. Besides, I thought the Riddler was the one who was into puzzles.
“Wanna get outta here sweetheart?”
*Singing* We gotta get out of this place, if it’s the last thing we ever do!
SUPERCILIOUS THE SORCERER!: CEASE THIS MADNESS AT ONCE.
It moves slightly, in what feels like looking up at him (it is rather short) and then bobs in what appears to be a nod. With a pleased grin he picks it up and swings it over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, or a bag of money, and takes off running towards where the vines are coming from.
That first sentence was really awkwardly written. Also, hathanhate managed to mix his metaphors in the same sentence, describing the same action, in the same way. Wow.
SUPERCILIOUS THE SORCERER!: VERILY, IT IS MOST IMPRESSIVE.
The hair-blob doesn’t even tense and simply let’s itself be carted off like this is a perfectly-normal-everyday-occurrence; and perhaps, in the world of a madman, it is.
Hathanhate, are you trying to tell us that you get carted off in a bag every day?
That’s going to get old very fast.
And there we are. You can see this as the first chapter or an introduction, even though the poem was meant to be the introduction. All the same…
So… this fic has two introductions?
SUPERCILIOUS THE SORCERER!: I SHALL DESTROY THESE HEATHEN! *Rushes out the door*
*The DRD agents walk in a different door and headshot me*
I didn’t think there were even two doors to this room.
If I continue then I warn you that I’m taking some liberties with these characters. In most cases they will be combined versions of their Dark Night movie counterparts
and their Batman The Animated Series versions. In some cases I may even change them completely.
Oh, that’s promising.
The Joker seeming a bit more sane in this than he is typically depicted is one example. He may be bat-shit crazy in some cases or almost normal in others. It just depends on my mood when I write and what the scene is.
SUPERCILIOUS THE SORCERER!: CONSISTENT CHARACTERIZATION IS FOR FOOLS! FOOLISH FOOLS! WHO ARE FOOLISH!
Yeah, what he said.
To be clear, the hair-blob is not really a hair-blob. It is a person whose gender will be revealed, and who, after some proper care, cleaning, and cutting, will no longer be described as a hair-blob.
No shit, really? I never could’ve guessed.
Regardless. Thanks for reading.
Oh, don’t thank me yet. *Cracks knuckles*
SUPERCILIOUS THE SORCERER!: ARE YOU ATTEMPTING TO INTIMIDATE THE FIC? FOR YOUR ATTEMPT HAS FAILED!
*Spins slowly around in chair, glaring ominously at Supercilious*
*Begins to rise from chair*
WE ARE EXPERIENCING TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES.
PLEASE STAND BY.
Great, now I’ve got to both get someone to clean up this mess, and someone to help me riff this.