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[tntandgasoline]

Players: interlude_adieu, devilishkurumi
Subject: Harvey Dent, the Joker
Table: A
Prompt: Cry
Log or Thread?: Log
Heads up! Thar be smut in these thar woods! AKA, you should know that this log contains sexual stuff and so you need to be careful reading it. And stuff.


It didn't really strike the Joker as surprising that most of his time inside this God-forsaken hideout was spent in the kitchen. His room was for important things; the kitchen... for not so important things. At the moment, he found himself hunched over a chopping board, stabbing a little ineffectually at various vegetables. He couldn't stop sniffling, and it was more than once that he had to rub at his face with the back of his arm, shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows. His arm had splotches of black and white greasepaint all over it.

Comments

[thedawniscoming.livejournal.com]

Harvey had never had a good sense of time. It had been morning and now as he stepped out of his room the open window let the evening air leak in with the noise of the street. It wasn't until he walked further down the hall that another sound caught his attention. Sniffling.

His brow furrowed- had the Joker brought some pet project here? That meant the 'project' would be dying, or worse and either way meant a mess. Before, even only a few weeks, it would have bothered Harvey on a moral level, playing at the few righteous strings he had left. Now it was a minor irritation, a motion to play through because it was a scripted point.

What he found upon entering the area made him pause in the closest thing to shock he had felt in a long time. The Joker was- he was wiping his face on his arm, back turned. The strangest feeling of dread mixed with a stronger feeling of... predatory satisfaction. Anything that made the Joker cry was likely catastrophic. Harvey wanted to see him cry.

"Troubled?" He asked even after noticing the chopping sound - vegetables, onions, the culprit. As good as it was going to get.