"Oh, shit. He's actually... oh fuck." The Joker was dead? Jonathan killed the Joker? That was unexpected. What the--
"Urghhhh. Not-- Not yet. Sorry, boys and ghouls." The Joker laughed very weakly and then coughed out blood violently down himself. He lifted his head up and looked at Edward. He didn't look scared or really pained. His eyes were lit up with a strange sort of mirth. "I was going to get my sweetheart and Spooky ripped me a new one... Now that's funny."
"Bad! Bad... so bad... frumious Bandersnatch."
Harvey unzipped the top part of his Arkham uniform, tossing it to Edward. Eh, he had his tank top underneath. "Try and stop the bleeding or he'll never make it."
"The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!"
"Where was Jon going. Left or right from here? Did you or the clown see?" Harvey was just trying to get some sense here. Jervis shook his head.
"He's stealin' my boy, Eddie." Joker slurred as he leaned forward suddenly and propped his head against Edward's shoulder.
"Nice guns," Victor told Harvey, complete with finger-guns, repaying the compliment from before. Edward concurred, but now was not the time to appreciate that. He was taking care of at least attempting to stop the wound instead. "Pamela, could you...?"
Best bet they had, all things considered. Thinking of Harley, Pamela did crouch down, focusing her powers to try and come up with something that would help stop the blood flow, at least. "If anything can survive in his blood." She was not that confident.
"Delite will be... He'll be fine, Joker, Scarecrow is still Jonathan, he'll take care of him. Let him go." Like he let him go. Here was hoping, anyway. "All right, someone has to stay with the Joker. We have to track down Jonathan, but we can't just let him bleed out."
"Jervis should stay. I mean what is he gonna do - put a hat on Jon?"
"I could very well offer a tool or two that could snare the beast... I just can't reach his head."
"Oooh, are we putting little hats on Jonny?" Joker asked as he pulled away from Edward and giggled. "I'm so into that plan. I wish I could stand just to do it."
"We ain't doing the fucking hat plan." Harvey insisted as he shoved Jervis towards the Joker. "Hold the shirt over his fucking wound and we'll circle back once we stop Jon." Otherwise they'd run out of time and he'd kill Bolton while they stood here. He looked at Edward, wanting to do right by him. "We gotta go, Eddie."
"You're safe here, Jervis. Just tell the Joker a nice story." How badly could that go? He got up, wiping his hands on his pants. Oh, yes, this suit would have to go to the drycleaners. Or maybe just straight to the bin, honestly. "Let's get going. Don't put any hats on anyone."
Seemed like wise words to live by, for the moment. He headed down the hallway, next to Harvey, putting a hand on the back of his shirt. "Zsasz is right about your guns, you know?"
"Can you keep it in your pants for a moment, Edward?" Pamela felt that was a simple request. "Also, you are leading us away from the staircase!"
"True," Edward admitted, stopping by a staff door and breaking the lock quickly. He pushed open the door and then stepped forward, pushing a button. "We're taking the lift."
"Huh." More efficient, Victor liked that. "Could be an ambush up there."
"Then you stand by the door, tall, bald and scary." Edward failed to see the issue. "It will be fine."
"Thanks, I guess. I've been working out a lot, it's hard to decide to do it so I made myself roll for several hours of a work out to make up for it. One week I accidentally worked out for 20 hours." Harvey was finding a balance. Maybe if he could keep the coin, he'd be just fine. As he followed Edward through, he made sure to gently push him back and check around the room, ensuring it was empty before he heard the ding. No one came out of the lift.
"Come on, let's get in. Really wish we had weapons or something."
Only Victor had a weapon. He was very muscly and Pamela had some very barbed and cutting comments to throw out there but otherwise, they were kind of unarmed. Him more than Pam. "So, Ed, you really think Pam can't like... seduce Jon? Cause-- I mean... is he full queer or is there some wiggle room?"
"In all honesty, based on my research? I think he's somewhere on the ace spectrum, with a bit of a weakness for pretty boys who make nice sounds when they're scared." Edward shrugged his shoulders, leaning back against the wall of the lift now they'd entered and looking at Pamela. "You're free to try your luck, but I'd try going for something less risky."
"Not fair anyway," Victor muttered, standing toward the front.
"Aw, Victor. Don't be that way. I just like seeing that beatific smile of his."
Victor was pouting, but he didn't turn away from the door. Professional, Edward had to give him that.
"You whammed his gal?" Huh. Rough. Wait. It was rogues. "... Or guy? Sorry, I don't know where you swing, Vic. I always thought it was like 50/50 or something but around here, it's more 90/10 for the non-queers." He supposed rogues just seemed to do things gayer than everyone else. He smiled at Edward a little because Eddie had been teaching him recently about shit like that and see, look, he was learning. He was asking all nice and everything.
The lift dinged and the doors opened. It was quiet up here and fucking dark. Harvey couldn't see a thing out there and yet, here they were, exposed.
Only the light from the lift illuminated the room.
It could be a trap. He pushed Edward back behind him and spoke quietly. "Listen careful."
Edward nodded to that whisper, but he was at an impasse here. Sure, he could assume that this was a trap. Or maybe it wasn't. If it was, however, odds were that Victor was about to shoot to kill. He really wanted to avoid that. And if it wasn't, any sound risked being what drew Jonathan's attention.
Hard choice to make, all in all, but he was fairly confident that Jonathan would not want him dead, so maybe this was the best option. "Audere est facere. I hate myself."
He whispered that part, then pushed past Harvey quickly, calling out as soon as he was near the doors, cane at the ready. "Jonathan?! Scarecrow?!" Might as well go for it.
"Guess he really is crazy," Pamela commented drily.
"Ed!" Harvey lost grip of Edward as he bold strolled out and he went to follow him but -- urgh, no. He backed up a little. "The air ain't right."
It was making him anxious. And he was pretty sure he and Ed were in the most danger there cause he didn't even know if Pamela could be chemically effected and... did Victor ever feel fear? He just seemed kinda meh about everything except killing.
Eyes glowed red in the dark and there was a hissing from the chemicals coming out of Jonathan's finger tips. He didn't come into the light, he stayed hiding, like some demonic boogieman.
"Hroo Hraa."
"... What does that mean?" Harvey whispered, hoping Pam knew.
"That he's bonkers," Pamela explained kindly, while trying to counteract the effect of the toxin at least in their immediate surroundings. She stayed close to Harvey, watching the scene unfold and trying to think of what way she could interfere.
"You-- We're out in the open, you know you can't get a concentrated effect like that. Not on a windy day." Luckily, most days in Gotham were windy, at least up on a roof. Edward's reasoning was sound enough, but his voice definitely had more than a hint of panic to it. "Scarecrow! I just want to talk."
Victor did not appear affected, at least outwardly, his hand steady as he pointed his gun at Jonathan. "Give the word, Nygma."
"Who said it was for you, son?" Jonathan came into a glimmer of light and inhaled deep, clearly high and out of his mind of toxin. He was known to do that, at times, to overindulge in drugs and put himself in a strange headspace but usually, he didn't have mass murder on the mind. Usually, he didn't really kill. And yet, downstairs, he had slaughtered so many. People he had worked with once, people he kind of liked.
But there was no rationality any more. No logic.
"Gotcha though, didn't it? Anxious. Heart racing. Pupils dilating. It's a weak dosage. Build up immunity."
"Shoot him." Harvey urged, wishing Victor would just shoot his kneecap off. He saw the glint of the scythe and tensed. Fuck, he didn't want Ed to end up like the Joker.
"I don't know, Jonny. That toxin of yours, in the open like that, with how used to it I've had to get? Doubt that's doing it." Edward took a step closer and Victor's eyes narrowed, trying to calculate the scythe range. Shit. "Maybe I'm just scared of you."
Maybe he could get through to him if he hit his buttons. Edward figured it was worth a try. Or it'd at least give them a good opening eventually, if he could keep Jonathan focused on him. "The only thing we have to fear, isn't it? You've told me that you are fear itself."
"No clean shot," Victor muttered and Pamela actually wrapped an arm and part of a vine around Harvey to hold him back. Seemed advisable.
"I used to think that but it's so limiting. So many phobias, how can I contain them all? Every fear. Every trauma." Jonathan laughed and honestly, it was a goofy laugh. He was not with it. "Fear of failure, fear of losing your mind, losing everything that makes you, you. Fear of bullies. Of being weak. Fear of bats."
Jonathan shivered with lightly and gripped his scythe tight.
"Fear of losing your head. Literally."
Jonathan licked his lips, unable to see properly through the mask, Edward's face had morphed until he no longer recognised it. He had no sense of reality. "On mounting a rising ground, which brought the figure of his fellow-traveller in relief against the sky, gigantic in height, and muffled in a cloak, Ichabod was horror-struck on perceiving that he was headless!"
"Fuck." Edward wondered whether Delite had already lost his head somewhere too, but there wasn't really time for those concerns right now. He had to trust in Victor's judgement and reflexes, and he supposed he'd just do that. Oswald did it all the time, after all. So he let himself fall to the ground to hopefully avoid any potential scythe attack and there were two gunshots. His first thought even curled up on the ground was a hope that Jonathan hadn't been mortally wounded.
Victor kept his gun pointed, having gone for both legs, as he'd suggested. It did tend to slow people down. "Hey! I don't know your book, but I'm supposed to be the Jabberwocky. So come off it!"
That should have hurt more, right? Jonathan felt insane right now but it didn't -- he couldn't feel anything. Sure, he was only upright because of his scythe but he wasn't crying out in pain, not really. He was shivering and making strange giggling sounds because something was wrong. Oh, he had a lot of formula today.
"Oh shit, son. Tickles." Jonathan forced himself to move forward, much slower - Victor was right there, but he was still moving. His eyes were focused ahead, his head fluttering in his head. "I left my head in the other room. I gotta get it. Gotta go..."
"... Oh no, who's head is in the other room, Jon?!" Harvey asked, not really sure he wanted to know. There were a few options and neither good. Delite. Bolton. Oh no, it was bad.
"Don't know how much sense he's making," Edward said, quite honestly, while crawling backwards until he hit Harvey's legs. Not a lot of dignity in this, but fuck it. he was very attached to his head.
Ivy finally released what she'd been building up in her hand for a while, essentially aiming a green, floral ball right at Jonathan's face. He was still human, it should knock him out. Eventually, anyway. The toxin did wonders for the adrenaline.
Victor shot again, this time aiming for the shoulder. Should be harder to lift that scythe with only one working arm, especially for someone noodle-armed like that.
Jonathan crumpled like a piece of paper and dropped onto the floor, out cold and bleeding in three separate places. Harvey watched him twitch for a few and waited for him to still before he finally trusted that Jon was down. And then he checked Edward over. "You stupid son of a bitch, you could have been hurt!"
He made sure Edward still had his head attached and then boldly stepped into the room, leaving Ed with Victor as he swiftly turned on the light and got a better look around. There were several cannisters of toxin lying around and Jon was bleeding pretty heavy but hey, the scythe was not in his hands.
Harvey approached and picked the damn thing up.
"Okay, he's unarmed." He looked the weapon over and then showed it to Victor. "It's actually pretty cool."
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"Urghhhh. Not-- Not yet. Sorry, boys and ghouls." The Joker laughed very weakly and then coughed out blood violently down himself. He lifted his head up and looked at Edward. He didn't look scared or really pained. His eyes were lit up with a strange sort of mirth. "I was going to get my sweetheart and Spooky ripped me a new one... Now that's funny."
"Bad! Bad... so bad... frumious Bandersnatch."
Harvey unzipped the top part of his Arkham uniform, tossing it to Edward. Eh, he had his tank top underneath. "Try and stop the bleeding or he'll never make it."
"The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!"
"Where was Jon going. Left or right from here? Did you or the clown see?" Harvey was just trying to get some sense here. Jervis shook his head.
"He's stealin' my boy, Eddie." Joker slurred as he leaned forward suddenly and propped his head against Edward's shoulder.
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Best bet they had, all things considered. Thinking of Harley, Pamela did crouch down, focusing her powers to try and come up with something that would help stop the blood flow, at least. "If anything can survive in his blood." She was not that confident.
"Delite will be... He'll be fine, Joker, Scarecrow is still Jonathan, he'll take care of him. Let him go." Like he let him go. Here was hoping, anyway. "All right, someone has to stay with the Joker. We have to track down Jonathan, but we can't just let him bleed out."
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"I could very well offer a tool or two that could snare the beast... I just can't reach his head."
"Oooh, are we putting little hats on Jonny?" Joker asked as he pulled away from Edward and giggled. "I'm so into that plan. I wish I could stand just to do it."
"We ain't doing the fucking hat plan." Harvey insisted as he shoved Jervis towards the Joker. "Hold the shirt over his fucking wound and we'll circle back once we stop Jon." Otherwise they'd run out of time and he'd kill Bolton while they stood here. He looked at Edward, wanting to do right by him. "We gotta go, Eddie."
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Seemed like wise words to live by, for the moment. He headed down the hallway, next to Harvey, putting a hand on the back of his shirt. "Zsasz is right about your guns, you know?"
"Can you keep it in your pants for a moment, Edward?" Pamela felt that was a simple request. "Also, you are leading us away from the staircase!"
"True," Edward admitted, stopping by a staff door and breaking the lock quickly. He pushed open the door and then stepped forward, pushing a button. "We're taking the lift."
"Huh." More efficient, Victor liked that. "Could be an ambush up there."
"Then you stand by the door, tall, bald and scary." Edward failed to see the issue. "It will be fine."
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"Come on, let's get in. Really wish we had weapons or something."
Only Victor had a weapon. He was very muscly and Pamela had some very barbed and cutting comments to throw out there but otherwise, they were kind of unarmed. Him more than Pam. "So, Ed, you really think Pam can't like... seduce Jon? Cause-- I mean... is he full queer or is there some wiggle room?"
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"Not fair anyway," Victor muttered, standing toward the front.
"Aw, Victor. Don't be that way. I just like seeing that beatific smile of his."
Victor was pouting, but he didn't turn away from the door. Professional, Edward had to give him that.
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The lift dinged and the doors opened. It was quiet up here and fucking dark. Harvey couldn't see a thing out there and yet, here they were, exposed.
Only the light from the lift illuminated the room.
It could be a trap. He pushed Edward back behind him and spoke quietly. "Listen careful."
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Hard choice to make, all in all, but he was fairly confident that Jonathan would not want him dead, so maybe this was the best option. "Audere est facere. I hate myself."
He whispered that part, then pushed past Harvey quickly, calling out as soon as he was near the doors, cane at the ready. "Jonathan?! Scarecrow?!" Might as well go for it.
"Guess he really is crazy," Pamela commented drily.
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It was making him anxious. And he was pretty sure he and Ed were in the most danger there cause he didn't even know if Pamela could be chemically effected and... did Victor ever feel fear? He just seemed kinda meh about everything except killing.
Eyes glowed red in the dark and there was a hissing from the chemicals coming out of Jonathan's finger tips. He didn't come into the light, he stayed hiding, like some demonic boogieman.
"Hroo Hraa."
"... What does that mean?" Harvey whispered, hoping Pam knew.
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"You-- We're out in the open, you know you can't get a concentrated effect like that. Not on a windy day." Luckily, most days in Gotham were windy, at least up on a roof. Edward's reasoning was sound enough, but his voice definitely had more than a hint of panic to it. "Scarecrow! I just want to talk."
Victor did not appear affected, at least outwardly, his hand steady as he pointed his gun at Jonathan. "Give the word, Nygma."
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But there was no rationality any more. No logic.
"Gotcha though, didn't it? Anxious. Heart racing. Pupils dilating. It's a weak dosage. Build up immunity."
"Shoot him." Harvey urged, wishing Victor would just shoot his kneecap off. He saw the glint of the scythe and tensed. Fuck, he didn't want Ed to end up like the Joker.
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Maybe he could get through to him if he hit his buttons. Edward figured it was worth a try. Or it'd at least give them a good opening eventually, if he could keep Jonathan focused on him. "The only thing we have to fear, isn't it? You've told me that you are fear itself."
"No clean shot," Victor muttered and Pamela actually wrapped an arm and part of a vine around Harvey to hold him back. Seemed advisable.
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Jonathan shivered with lightly and gripped his scythe tight.
"Fear of losing your head. Literally."
Jonathan licked his lips, unable to see properly through the mask, Edward's face had morphed until he no longer recognised it. He had no sense of reality. "On mounting a rising ground, which brought the figure of his fellow-traveller in relief against the sky, gigantic in height, and muffled in a cloak, Ichabod was horror-struck on perceiving that he was headless!"
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Victor kept his gun pointed, having gone for both legs, as he'd suggested. It did tend to slow people down. "Hey! I don't know your book, but I'm supposed to be the Jabberwocky. So come off it!"
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That should have hurt more, right? Jonathan felt insane right now but it didn't -- he couldn't feel anything. Sure, he was only upright because of his scythe but he wasn't crying out in pain, not really. He was shivering and making strange giggling sounds because something was wrong. Oh, he had a lot of formula today.
"Oh shit, son. Tickles." Jonathan forced himself to move forward, much slower - Victor was right there, but he was still moving. His eyes were focused ahead, his head fluttering in his head. "I left my head in the other room. I gotta get it. Gotta go..."
"... Oh no, who's head is in the other room, Jon?!" Harvey asked, not really sure he wanted to know. There were a few options and neither good. Delite. Bolton. Oh no, it was bad.
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Ivy finally released what she'd been building up in her hand for a while, essentially aiming a green, floral ball right at Jonathan's face. He was still human, it should knock him out. Eventually, anyway. The toxin did wonders for the adrenaline.
Victor shot again, this time aiming for the shoulder. Should be harder to lift that scythe with only one working arm, especially for someone noodle-armed like that.
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He made sure Edward still had his head attached and then boldly stepped into the room, leaving Ed with Victor as he swiftly turned on the light and got a better look around. There were several cannisters of toxin lying around and Jon was bleeding pretty heavy but hey, the scythe was not in his hands.
Harvey approached and picked the damn thing up.
"Okay, he's unarmed." He looked the weapon over and then showed it to Victor. "It's actually pretty cool."