Just Another Todd [[Robin]]

[Jack Napier]

Ahh yes, Jump City! Home to the best pizza parlor around and those ankle-biters calling themselves the Tween Titans... or was it Teen? Ah who really gives a good got damn, they were just a bunch of whiny little kids playing hero while the adults were away and Gotham's finest was going to take full advantage of that. No not Batman... he's second rate compared to the guy we're dealing with here. Numero uno spot belongs to none other than The Clown Prince of Crime himself, Joker! What was Joker doing in Jump City you ask? What else do you think, fun! Gotham was beginning to get a little boring and stale so the clown packed a bag or two and moved on up to the east side. Now this ain't no permanent move by any means, just a little vacation to clear the mind, or what was left of it anyway. Jump City was the perfect little get away spot, so much to do so very much to do. First on Joker's agenda was screwing with its residents for a few laughs, maybe even draw out little ol Robin.

”Ladies and gentlemen may I have you attention please! If you don't know by now, my name is Joker. Here's my card.”

A playing card with the joker symbol was lodged deep into the forehead of a very unlucky security guard. As his lifeless body collapsed backwards, the group of hogtied innocent bystanders looked on with horror. For today my people, Joker was in the mood for a little mischief at the local water supply and sanitation plant. His men, all wearing clown mask to resemble his own beautiful face were scattered throughout the building, sealing off areas, and had rounded up the personnel before him. The fear in their eyes was simply delightful. Joker laughed manically as he drove around the people laying on the floor, weaving in and out of them narrowly avoiding some decapitations with the wheels of his itty bitty clown car. This was fun! Upon hearing the cries of a little girl, Joker came to halt in front of her, stepped out of the car, and approached her.

”Aww what's the matter? Turn that frown upside down!”

A shot of green gas emerged from the flower pinned to his suit, engulfing the little girl's face. Soon the crying turned into coughing and the coughing turned into hysterical laughter. All the father could do was look on with horror as his baby girl thrashed around in pain, laughing all the way. ”Now she's getting into the spirit! And soon, the whole city will be too once I put this stuff into the city's water supply!” That trademark laugh of his pierced the air as he jumped back into his little vehicle. ”Slappy and Jacko, get to work boys.” Joker began driving around again as his henchmen went off to accomplish their given task.

[drake]

Jump City. It certainly wasn’t Gotham that was for sure, not that that was necessarily a bad thing by any stretch of the imagination. It certainly wasn’t a complete rotting cesspool of scum, villainy, and other assorted dregs of society for starters. Still, as Robin - Red Robin to be exact, the former title now being usurped by a psychopathic upstart – stared down at the city below from his perch, he couldn’t quiet help but miss the gothic architecture and grime that pretty much defined a city to him. All this clean, modern, well designed buildings around Jump City just didn’t feel like home. They were nice, but Tim supposed that Gotham had gotten into his blood over the years he spent jumping across its rooftops. Nice just didn’t cut it anymore.

>>...Six oh three in progress...<<

The custom Bat family issue police scanner in his cowl chimed in, being designed to pick up any unlawful activity in his current vicinity.

>> I repeat, six oh three in progress at the Water Treatment Plant...<<

Six oh three was code for unlawful entry if his memory rightly served him, and it did. Living the life they did you tended to burn the police coding system into your memory if you wanted to actually make a difference, and it was practically one of the first things that Batman had insisted that he learn. Still, that had to be wrong, right? An break in at a Water Treatment Plant? Surely there wasn’t much of interest in a place like that for a common crook... Tim frowned and grabbed his batline launcher, spearing a nearby building and swinging off into the night towards the crime scene. There was a long list of villains in Batman’s rogue’s gallery that would be interested in places like that; Scarecrow, Lord Chaos, The Joker... The list went on and on. Names that he couldn’t simply ignore, even if odds were that it was just some Punks on some drunken crime spree.

Arriving at Plant quickly reminded the red-clad vigilante the fact that in life – his especially – the odds were just out to screw with you. The clown car and those masked goons highlighted that fact. The Joker. One of Batman’s long standing foes, and a danger he’d never of normally dreamed of tackling alone. But that was then, that was when he was Robin. He was more than that now, he had to be if he wanted to fill the gap left in the wake of Bruce’s dea- Disappearance. Bruce’s disappearance. He wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be dead. The momentary slip in believing otherwise caused him to clench his jaw, tightening his grip on the combat staff that had somehow worked its way into his palm amidst his inner turmoil. Any thoughts of calling in back up, calling in the Titans, fled from his mind. He had to deal with this on his own.

The first goon fell as Red Robin dropped from above, planting both his feet into the thug’s back to stop his descent. The second to a particularly vicious blow from his bo staff to his skull. Unfortunately the third managed to raise the alarm, letting out a loud yell before Tim managed to silence him. Not that it mattered, the way the wayward Wayne was feeling at the moment, he welcomed the more violence that could come his way.

[Jack Napier]

Maniacal laughter filled the air as Joker continued speeding around the room, honking the little horn that just so happened to play that catchy little Mexican themed tune. Oh boy how he loved that damn horn, he even sung along to it. ”Dada da da da dadadada da da da!” Honk. ”Dada da da da dadadada da da da! Everyone together now! Dada da da-” The clown paused to gaze at the civilians laid out before him. They weren't going along with him, just staring at him as if he were crazy. His smile fading into a frown, Joker retrieved an all too real pistol from inside his suit and aimed it at a beautiful young mother of two. The trigger was pulled and a bullet was placed square between the eyes of the woman. ”Let's try this again,” his voice took on a menacing tone. Joker lifted the gun hand to orchestrate the event. ”And a one and a two and-”

He pressed the horn, this time the people decided to join along with him in rhythm. ”Again.” and so he pushed it again and the crowd sang again like the smart sheep they were. Hehe, smart sheep. ”A little more stress on the that sixth da, little Johnny.” As joker tended to his improvised orchestra, his goons were laughing there butts off. But not for long since the show was about to be crashed. The sudden thud of a body being forced into the ground snapped Joker from his fun momentarily to see who was the culprit. ”Ooo nice shot there Boy Blunder. And welcome to the marvelous Orchestra of The Joker!”

”May I see your ticket please? Oh, no ticket? Then sir I will have to ask you to leave the theatre. Boys would you be so kind as to escort this fine gentleman off the premises?”

“Not a problem boss.”

The hired goons opened fire on the wanna be Batman as the Joker went back to toying with the hostages, or at least the living ones. ”Let's take it from the top shall we. Aaaand go!” Dada da da da dadadada da da da!

[drake]

The sight of the dead woman caused him to grind his back teeth, anger swelling up for both the comically dressed villain that had pulled off the deed and himself for being minutes too slow to the scene. He could have stopped it, Batman would have. He didn’t have time to reflect further on it however, the clown was out of control and it was up to him to do something about it.

Tim was already on the move the moment the clown clad goons levelled their gun barrels in his direction, the opening salvo whistling scant inches from where he’d momentarily been standing as he dove out of the way. His fingers curled around the smoke capsules stored at his waist as he travelled through the air, his arm moving in a whip like motion that sent them sailing towards his opponents. The ensuing smoke cloud masked everyone from view, causing the goon’s gunfire to stop as they hesitated in confusion. The red clad vigilante however did not hesitate, blind fighting was one of the many lessons he’d learned following in Batman’s shadow. Snap kick, uppercut, right hook, vertical staff sweep, the moves blurred into each other as he lashed out, each of them finding their mark. When the cloud finally dissipated Red Robin was the only one remaining standing, the crumpled unconscious bodies of his opponents sprawled at his feet.

The Teen wonder cleared the distance between him and the purple clad villain in one leap, a leap that stopped just a scant few paces short of binging him face to face with the Clown Prince of Crime. Experience, both his and his mentor’s, always dictated not to get too close to the Joker as you never knew what tricks he held up his sleeve. He twirled and levelled his Bo staff, his voice taking on a hard quality that was somewhat reminiscent of Bruce’s. “Shows over, Joker, let them go. Now.”

He doubted the man would acquiesce to his demands, he only ever did when it suited him and his plans. Of course, it still remained to see just what his plans were. The Water Plant was ideal for distributing his noxious and deadly chemicals to the unsuspecting masses of Jump City, but the oddball jester usually had other motives rattling around that diseased mind of his. And, before this night was through, Red Robin would undoubtedly know what they were, one way or another.

[Jack Napier]

Joker was having himself a grand ol time messing with these poor, innocent people. Why was it so damn fun to mess with the minds of people, oh yea... everything was fun to the Joker. When the cloud of smoke appeared, he rolled his eyes. Having been kicking on Batman's ass for so long he knew exactly what the smoke meant. But that didn't mean he'd become used to not being able to see his victims. First the gunshots stopped, followed by the annoying cries of pain from his henchmen. ”And that ladies and gentlemen, is my cue.”

Juuuust as the purple suit wearing maniac was about to drive off, the Boy Blunder stopped his path of escape. Dammit. When he heard that false bass in his voice, Joker couldn't help but laugh out at him. Who the hell did this kid think he was, Batman? ”I don't think I heard a fat lady singing...” His attention was drawn to the lady dead with a bullet in her head. She was rather obese...”So the show ain't over yet Timmy boy!” Joker honked his horn one more time before speeding off in the car.

As he drove along, he grabbed one the kids by the end of his pants and began dragging him along, face down. Why was Joker being so cruel today? All just to piss off the little boy playing hero like his mentor. Only difference is that his mentor was actually good at playing the good guy. Little Timmy was just a chump loser with nothing better to do with his laugh. Joker laughed like the maniac that his is as he drove away from Robin dragging the helpless child.

[drake]

The Clown Prince of Crime was going too far this time, seemingly only out to cause chaos and misery – not that was necessarily new, but this time it seemed less... focused... like he was testing the waters, as if he wanted to see how far he could push now that Batman was gone. Bruce had always warned Tim of the Joker, having at one point left him with standing orders to outright flee at the sight of the sick demented clown after his apparent killing of his predecessor, Jason Todd. But that was then and this was now, and like it or not Bruce was gone, not for good, but for the time being at least. If the Joker wanted to test him, then Tim resolved not to disappoint.

Taking off in a flat out sprint after the car, Tim let his staff collapse back to its original size and hooked it onto his belt as he reached for his grapple gun and throwing disks. Using the sudden lurch of speed delivered from the powerful motors in the gun as they reeled in the line Tim let himself be hauled into the air, letting go of the gun to throw a pair projectiles as he drew closer to his target.

The two throwing disks arced around, sailing with the practiced accuracy that had destroyed many a hotel bedroom in the course of seeking its perfection, the first colliding with the front wheel of the Clown’s getaway car, the second was aimed at delivering a resounding blow to the Joker’s wrist in an attempt to make him free his unfortunate captive before it was too late.

As for Red Robin, well, he hit the floor with both feet, bending and rolling several times to diffuse the momentum to ward off any injuries, before finally coming to a halt in a slightly unglorified crouch. Of course it wasn’t perfect, nothing ever was, and it sure as hell hurt like a damn, not to mention served to disorientate him for several seconds as his mind caught up and regained its bearings, but it certainly beat the alternative of broken bones and other assorted maladies.

[Jack Napier]

Joker was almost oblivious to the approaching danger that was Tim Drake. He glanced down at the young boy that was being dragged along the hard concrete floor. If only this were gravel it would have been a lot more fun... and brutal... and evil... ah who gives a rat's ass. The boy was crying and practically clawing at the floor to try and stop himself from being dragged like a rag doll. Joker continued speeding along whistling as if he were out on a Sunday drive in the countryside. Well that was up until he looked in the rear view mirror and say something rather shiny hurling towards him fast. Joker spun around just in time to see the discs collide with his front wheel and his wrist, forcing him to let go of the boy.

”Yeeouch!” Joker pulled his hand up and shook it a bit then held it with his other hand. No longer steering the car combined with a blown tire resulted in him losing control of the little contraption. Joker tried to steer it straight again, but was too late. With a hard jerk to the left, the car tilted on one side, drove a little longer, and then finally flipped over tossing him out of it. The clown slid across the floor until he slammed against a wall with a hard thud. He rubbed his head a bit before seeing that his car was now tumbling directly at him.

Joker scrambled to get out of the way, narrowly avoiding being wedged between the wall and the car. ”Somebody get the license of that driver... oh wait.” He pulled out his own fake driver's license and laughed at the picture of himself smiling with a big thumbs up. He was in no real position to escape since that fall took a bit out of him. Running would be useless at this point. Oh well, not like he hasn't been to jail plenty of times before, or Arkham.

[drake]

“Whatever you’re up to here, Joker, it’s over now. You’re going back where you belong. Arkham.” Despite his words Tim knew very well that Arkham wasn’t much of a threat to the purple clown prince, the man having all but practically installed a revolving door leading from his cell to the outside world. No matter how many times he kept getting caught, he escaped in equal measure, and each time he brought down more and more pain upon innocent lives. The little voice in the back of Tim’s head chimed in, expressing its opinion that it didn’t have to be that way... That it could all be over tonight... But he knew if he gave into that voice, if he took that final step – no matter how justified it might look now – it would eat away at him until he was no better than the scum he fought.

“I would say we could do this one of two ways, but I’d be lying.” The teen vigilante slipped into a low fighting position, mentally ignoring the discomfort voiced by his muscles thanks to that impromptu stunt with the grapple line. He might not be able to kill the Joker, but it didn’t mean he was going to let him get away with just being locked up. No, Tim Drake was going to take a little bit of satisfaction first, and then he’d let him be locked up. He signalled his opponent to come at him with a casual wave of his outstretched hand.

[Jack Napier]

For a minute or two, Joker just stared at the little boy er Robin character guy. ”Are you really threatening me, with Arkham? Kid you've got a lot to learn about me. Ol Bats would be ashamed to even know you after that stupid remark.” Joker pulled himself to his feet and shook his head at the next words that came out of the kid's mouth. ”What are you, some bootleg, unskilled, stunt double reject of Bruce Lee?” He placed his face in his palm with a snicker before starting to head towards the exit.

He looked back over his shoulder with a sigh. ”You're not even worth me wasting my time or jokes on. Get a life son, stop trying to be someone you're not.” With that, Joker pulled a little device from his pocket and aimed back at his destroyed toy car. Pressing the button, a little alarm signal went off to let him know that it was on. Didn't want anyone to run off with his ride now...

[drake]

Tim gritted his teeth and bit back to rising anger that threatened to send him headlong into disaster. He wouldn’t rise to the taunts, he’d already played into his anger too much this evening and gotten sloppy enough that other people had paid for it. No. He’d try it a different way.

“Stop trying to be someone I’m not? Need I remind you, I took you out on our first meeting within five minutes? Five minutes. Second time around? You didn’t even last that long. You want to talk about being something you’re not, how about you try not being the butt of all your jokes. Of course, you might have to change your name then... I mean, you’re called Joker because you’re the joke, right?” He twirled extended his bo staff once more, twirling it as he spoke to produce the eerily distracting, whistling noise. Bait the Joker into a fight, definitely a new tactic. Maybe not necessarily a wise one, but a new one nonetheless. He abruptly stopped the spinning motion of the staff and ended the noise almost as quickly as it had started, tapping the butt of one of its ends on the worn concrete floor and assuming a lax and almost negligent pose. “Just a sick little clown that’s only punch line is hurting people over and over again with the same old routines. Heh, I suppose it is kind of funny in a sad, sad way. That’s what you were going for, right? Can’t win with the humour, so you’ll go for the sympathy vote? I mean, I can’t think of any other reason Batman’s let you keep on running around for so long if he didn’t pity you as the sad, lonely, pathetic washed-up clown that you are.”