Hello! Are you missing a very good and handsome boy named Bruce? This is the number I found on his collar! Are you his parent and/or guardian?
He's very into my take out right now and I just don't have the heart to take it away from him
[ John attaches a picture of Bruce The Hyena, who is currently chowing down the innards of a few take out containers. Looks like... Tacos? Mexican Food?
Finding the old abandoned funhouse had been an attempt to grasp something familiar in this odd reflection of the Gotham he knows. Last thing he expected to find was a hungry Hyena that felt entitled to his (probably stolen) dinner. ]
[ Harley had only turned her back for a moment when something shiny caught her eye, but apparently, that was enough time for Bruce to not only get out of sight, but to raid someone else's takeout. Oh joy, it was Mexican food at that. Great, just great! Looked like the piglet was sleeping on the couch tonight. As hands searched her pockets and cleavage for some cash to pay for this good samaritan's lost takeout, she voice to texted them back... ]
Oh my gawd, I'm so sorry! I'll pay for everything. It hadn't been that long since he ate, so if he gave ya' the starvin' puppy eyes, he's an excellent liar like that.
[ Wonder who had taught him that... ]
I'm near the funhouse, where are you and I'll come find ya'!
[John almost fumbles his dear fuchsia phone when it chimes again so soon-- he had been trying to get another couple shot of that cute taco-smeared snout.]
That was fast! So happy YOU'RE not actually shot dead in an alley somewhere hahaha! =D [Because that's the story of the Original Wayne Parental Units that every Gothamite knows.]
He didn't get far! I'm on the far east side of the property =) And don't worry about it, I didn't pay for the food ;)
[His gaze ghosts the Familiar-Yet-Off scenery; and his blistering grin loses a tiny bit of wattage until Hyena Bruce gets his nose snuck in a little plastic cup of queso. Then a strikingly exuberant cackle hits the air. A pic of Bruce's predicament is next to pop up in Harley's messages.]
PLEASE don't tell me you let him attend those Rich Guy Galas like this. The press would DESTROY him! 🤣😂🤣😂
[ At the next text, Harley was so worried about her beloved pet and the impending doom that was brewing in his stomach, that the Bruce Wayne reference flew right over her head for the moment, causing brows to knit together in suspicion. Well, in addition to the exorbitant cache of weapons hidden all along her body, she was also sporting her favorite giant hammer on her back, so she wasn't worried in the least. ]
Yeah, um, me too, hon. Me too. Alright, headin' over. I'm wearin' black and red leather pants, corset, and mini jacket. Ya' can't miss me if ya' tried. 😋
[ As she walked along, Harley couldn't help the big grin that spread across her lips at the next picture they sent. ]
Eh, the paparazzi don't bother me no more. Not ever since The Incident™. Hah! 🤪
[ Wanting to make an entrance, Harley began performing expertly executed cartwheels as she approached the east side, with normal and even some hands-free ones just to really show off. ]
[It was a really off color joke, Harley; don't worry about it. Not the kind of thing a Normal Person(TM) would fling out as A Funny, but then, this guy is about as far from Normal as one can get.
There had been a vague feeling of familiarity growing at the back of his mind; nothing that warranted any real attention until stacked next to that extremely familiar sounding outfit. His Harley's extremely iconic look. Are his hands sweating a little? Nope, nope, everything is fine.]
Oh I had no idea this party had such a flashy dresscode! Stepping up with some of my favorite colors there stranger ;)
You won't miss me either. Look out for a silk turquoise argyle shirt with a purple vest! If Gotham's Favorite Son Fluff isn't enough, hahahaha!
[He's curious about what kind of Incident could have gone down, always a chaos loving clown, but that strange stomach-fluttering familiarity is starting to distract him. His ears start to track the click-swoosh-clack of her cartwheels from across the way, and he is the first to spot her appraching.
John shoots to his feet. His face feels hot though his bleached skin can't show a hint of color. That's not--It can't be--but is it? The way the Stranger-Not-Stranger moves is far too familiar, coupled with her style, her words, her energy.... No, this isn't his Harley, but this isn't his Gotham, either. But it is Gotham, and she... she must be Harley Quinn.
Okay, now his hands are sweating. He stands completely frozen, both wanting to bolt in the other direction, and fling himself at her feet. Harley... but a version he never betrayed. His extremely brilliant mind races in useless circles; he ends up standing stiff as a board as she approaches, a blistering but subtly nervous grin barring his teeth as a cartwheel lands her only a couple short feet away from him.]
Harley? [Shock, surprise, confusion, fear and adoration all war in the muddy pair of syllables. He looks like he's preparing to duck a punch as much as refraining himself from falling into place at her side.] Is that, uh... Geez, you're different, but... it's you, isn't it? You're really Harley Quinn
Other, other you? How many of you can there possibly be?
You dumped me, kicked me out, no..threw me out, I had half of Gotham trying to kill me besides you. I had to go to work for Amanda Waller or have my head go splat like a hamster in a microwave.
I've just gotten my feet under me now and you show up sayin you ain't you?
Gee I dunno, how big is the multiverse? From what I understand, there's a lot of different yous, and mes, and Batmans, and Catladies and so on!
As for how many of me are here right now, uh... That... that would be two, I think. Me, John, and that... that other guy. But don't go spreading that around, okay? I don't want people to think I'm ~crazy~
Yeesh, that's... that's a really bad time. And kinda different then what happened to me, but also kinda the same.
BUYING is a bit... liberal. I am GETTING tacos. And queso. And Carne Asada. You know, the basics~
It's a huge headache, right? SO crazy! BUT it means even though I'm lost in this Gotham, I still know who to look for. My ~people~. That's you. I can tell, I can feel it. If you meet me, maybe you'll feel it too.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. I've got a BABY kill count. Which means that it's small-- NOT that I kill babies! I'd never, EVER want to hurt you, Harley. Not in any way you didn't really, really want me to 😈
My Best Buddy really hates the whole unaliving thing though, so I'm trying not to do that. Again.
Well I haven't exactly wrangled an apartment yet. Know any good abandoned fun houses around? Nothing worse than cold queso!
Best Buddy? Who you making friends with that doesn't like killin? Everybody I knew you with before was colorfully psychotic.
Good to hear about the babies though, I recently met this kid I kinda took a shine to, sort of took her under my wing, like a mini me. Except she's Asian.
I've kinda been using The Booby Trap over at Amusement Mile when I needed clandestine clown activities. Still has some good places to sit and Bruce likes running around peeing on those old topieries.
Oh he's DEFINATELY colorfully psychotic-- that's why we're such good friends! And it's Batman! Gotta find the one that's kicking around here but that's a LATER thing. You've got my full and undivided attention, Harley 💞💞💞
Okay well I'm definitely not gunna stab a little Asian you, cross my heart!
Oh sure, I know that place! I can be there in 15. Grappling hook is way faster than the bus.
And uh... I'm ASSUMING you don't mean that sexy gothamite playboy guy? Unless there's some real KINK happening here?
You're friends with the bat? That does not make sense. I mean given the time he's tried to put you and me away, and nearly killed us and broken up or gang and ruined anything we've done.
Unless your Batman is batty as his name, if things really are different there I guess that could be.
That's who I named him after! Brucie is my sweet little baby! My hyena, the sweetest thing. He is just the cutest.
But I think I should leave him at home, we've had some long conversation about me and my Puddin and how things went and he's very sensitive about it all, he might not take it well.
[Well, he doesn't disagree that Gotham is a city short on patience and even shorter on gallantry. It's got a lot of good people-- a lot of firm communities-- but its particular brand of helping is usually... gruff.
Jason flits across his mind. He maybe vaguely shakes his head and smiles.
Somehow, John behind him in his blind spot doesn't stir up any concern in Tim. Maybe it's the fact that the plentiful tower of snacks rustling would give away a sneak attack, but honestly... he just isn't feeling any stranger danger from this guy right now.
Yeah. He knows how that sounds. It's a version of the Joker. He's carrying at least three knives. He's mumbly, and giggly, and scaring the shit out of everyone in a twenty-foot radius.
Tim had a thick skin. Especially since finding the spot he thought he might buy; down at the docks. Gotham didn't seep in and scare him.]
Well, found family is usually more help than strangers.
[Arkham was... found family in a lot of ways. He didn't need to have ever been incarcerated to know that.]
Oh. Well, that's because you look like The Joker. "Clown Prince of Crime"? Gotham's most serious villain. Though, don't let the other baddies, gangsters, and chaos mongers hear you say so.
[Tim shrugs. That's common knowledge. The Joker has been on every media reel, every newspaper... people knew him down pat.
But he probably needed an excuse for knowing this wasn't him, so...]
I figured you're just a cosplayer or something? Anyway, here you go... why don't you sit over here and get situated?
[Having led him to the seat he had in mind, he'd pause, waiting for him to file in.]
[ Probably unfortunately for Tim, he's pretty much exactly the best kind of person to keep John's company; usually someone with a thick enough skin to handle his antics (friendly knife throwing, say) is also the type to feed the wrong side of his psyche. As Tim had so aptly observed, John is "a lot". ]
Yeah... usually [ It sounds like he's missing some Found Family, but of course Tim already knows that much. John doesn't offer much more to anyone outside the Batman Club, though. ]
Oh, right! Right... that guy. Pfffft. I was here first [ kind of a lie, kind of the truth ] He looks like me.
[ Well, a good clue that this is John and not The Joker is that no one ended up maimed. The average Gothamite was probably just too scared shitless to make that distinction. ]
Ah, thanks-- just, gimme a sec to settle in...
[ He takes the seat one to the right of Tim's suggestion, meaning if he wants to pass John his snacks, he's going to have step just inside the isle to do it. The clumsy clown seats himself next to a stranger on his other side, who instead of looking terrified, appears coldly curious... which could be a far more dangerous reaction, depending. They whisper something to thier buddy-- a woman stylishly sporting a Phantom's half-mask and a 'DO CRIMES' hoodie. ]
These seats are NOT built for people with legs like mine, I tell ya. Feel like I can rest my chin on my knees. Snacks this way, buddy!
[ John hails with a waving hand, seemingly oblivious to the pair passing faintly excited whispers beside him.
Also, behind Tim? A 250 pound movie goer seating himself in that isle chair-- and his friend, a companion twice as hefty, parking her scooter in the isle as the lights drop around them.
There's no possible way this chain of events could have perfectly orchestrated by the killer clown himself... but it sure is advantageous to John's starvation for company, isn't it? That one solitary seat left empty beside him.
Unless Tim wants to acrobat his way over a lot of other movie goers, while the pre-show is playing. That does mean climbing over either a pair of very large humans, or John, and the rest of the packed row on the other side of him. Decisions, decisions~ ]
[Oop... and, in what feels like an aria on Tim's life, he's been clogged into the small space. Despite being graceful, what happened around him was often hapless, and getting wedged in places? Par for the course in his life.
Besides... some of the patrons in this row... gave him kind of a bad feeling??
So, seeing no (normal) way out, he'd clear his throat, duck down his head... and go... to sit beside John.
Sigh. How'd he get himself into this again???
Giving over his treats to him-- balancing some on the arm rest and one on John's knee-- he'd take out his own hard-won packet of gummies and would fold into the seat as the preview reel flashed black and white over their faces, making John look whiter and Tim look darker. More receded.]
...Sorry to crowd you. Looks like politeness necessitates that I'm sitting here.
[He hadn't even been able to go back for his jacket, still on the floor of the lobby. RIP.]
Don't have that problem. I'm short; I fit just fine.
[Tim, maybe don't point out your below-average height that matches the below-average height of a certain Gotham birdie, genius-- he'd think to himself, as he went to peel open the gummies and... try to cope with the reality of being at the movies with... not!Joker.
[ John perks up not unlike an eager puppy when he notices his new friend Tim take the conveniently vacant seat next to him; if the clown had a tail, it would be certainly be wagging. ]
Oh, hey! It's all good! Promise I don't got cooties
[ In his efforts to huddle into his seat, John somehow seems to become twice as gangly; the seat even threatens to flip up with him in it, prompting the man to become comically still as though to placate the jester gods of luck toying with him. ]
Lucky you Shorty; sorry if my knees end up in your lap. Tall Guy Awkwardness, TM.
[ It might be because the man is strange as the docks are shady, but that stray streak of self depreciating charm plays quite smooth in the dim murmur of the theater. Even his quiet chuckle lingers a little closer to silk than strange.
As the previews play, under-payed and overworked theater staff hustle through the isles, flinging crispy packaged 3D glasses into the crowd by the handful. Where was the person who should have handed these out by the door? Hopefully not Doing Crimes.
The clever clown catches a pair of glasses mid-air, without looking up from slurping his drink. ]
Here ya go, buddy. Guess it's 3D today?
[ Yeah Tim, let's also place on a mask-like object with a lot of red in the design. This is your life today. ]
It's unavoidable. Time shifts, turns and leans his shoulder back a little bit after John's too-dexterous catch, and there it is again. The sway of bangs and the flash of blue eyes. This time, they meet John's, before he glances down again to take the crinkly plastic package of glasses.
...He slips them out of their casing, and puts them on with mumbled thanks.
And for anyone observant, it's unmistakable. Blue eyes suddenly muffled and snuffed out behind black covering his upper face; the same hair; the same stark jawline against all the black.]
...Guess the film is starting. We should be quiet now.
[ Oh relax, Tim! Isn't it painfully obvious that John is a few crayons short the whole box? It should be, he puts quite a lot of effort into maintaining that mask, thank you very much. What seems to catch his attention is that brief blip of blue beneath that dark hood; this time instead of causing the clown to attempt to pocket a soda, it sharpens the edges of his smile; not nearly enough to be dangerous, not subtle enough to be missed. ]
Whaaaat? They're not domino masks? But this is Gotham! Pfft, SO off-brand!
[ He simply ceases his fixation once those pretty blue eyes are out of sight; John loses a few moments cracking open his soda and a couple bags of candy, preforming some kind of sugar-elixir alchemy as Tim mumbles about how they should quite mumbling, and does not quite sink into his chair.
Why you acting so weird, Tim? There are plenty of people in Gotham with your build and facial structure and hairstyle who wouldn't sweat bullets sitting next to a Joker-look alike. Acting Weird is REALLY the weirdest part of all of this!
For a little bit there it really does seem like John will be quiet; truly, a few minutes is a miracle and someone should pat him on the head and give him a bat-cookie. A couple more previews precede the actual movie and he starts to get a little antsy, tapping his foot on the floor, bouncing his knee, strumming his thigh with his fingers.
He inhales like he's about to ask Tim something. Then stops, like he's thought better.
Suddenly he sways sideways and leans in close, because obviously a whisper is much more appropriate. He probably got much closer than he meant to (enough to heat the air by Tim's ear), because half a second later he reels back twice as fast, pinning Tim with a blazing sheepish grin while a small embarrassed chuckle slides out from betwixt his bare teeth. He clears his throat like he's about to speak and-- doesn't.
Instead of speaking, he silently signs to Tim: ]
First Time at a Theater. How many Previews?
[... why sir, how DARE you suggest this is a test of intellect. This is just John trying to be polite to fellow movie goers! Actually, insinuate everything, John's not alone in that headspace. Eerie clown laughter here. ]
[Tim sits up ramrod straight and bristles at the warm prickling his ear, the whoosh of cool air; from the cinema AC and John's rapid ascent; switching to the warm of his almost-words almost making his shoulder jerk a little...
And then, when John doesn't speak, his eyes are drawn down... to the acrobatics of his lithe hands.
Tim understands immediately. His brows raise a little; he knows signing, huh? Well... it shouldn't shock him. The Joker in their world was choc full o' totally nuts. But he was also extremely intelligent.
A pause of a moment, before Tim signs back:]
Usually five. Then an infomercial about how to be polite in the theatre. No talking, no cell phones.
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text; un: superbia
It's official I've been adopted. I have a dad now!
Guess who it is!
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That's great! I'm happy for you, for real!
Being in a family... it's the best
until it falls apartYou're lucky no matter who it is
It's a big deal when someone promises to look after you no matter what
Aw man, I think I'm getting a little jealous over here! Heeheeheehee 😛😛😛😛😛
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Ok I'll tell you. It's Alfred!
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friends and family have the easiest access to stab you in the back
Not that it's always like that... but sometimes things unexpectedly go BOOM
Oh! It's good ol' Al? Then you're probably fine. Aww, what a papa bear!
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locked to igetcrazy [text]
He's very into my take out right now and I just don't have the heart to take it away from him
[ John attaches a picture of Bruce The Hyena, who is currently chowing down the innards of a few take out containers. Looks like... Tacos? Mexican Food?
Finding the old abandoned funhouse had been an attempt to grasp something familiar in this odd reflection of the Gotham he knows. Last thing he expected to find was a hungry Hyena that felt entitled to his (probably stolen) dinner. ]
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Oh my gawd, I'm so sorry! I'll pay for everything. It hadn't been that long since he ate, so if he gave ya' the starvin' puppy eyes, he's an excellent liar like that.
[ Wonder who had taught him that... ]
I'm near the funhouse, where are you and I'll come find ya'!
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That was fast! So happy YOU'RE not actually shot dead in an alley somewhere hahaha! =D [Because that's the story of the Original Wayne Parental Units that every Gothamite knows.]
He didn't get far! I'm on the far east side of the property =) And don't worry about it, I didn't pay for the food ;)
[His gaze ghosts the Familiar-Yet-Off scenery; and his blistering grin loses a tiny bit of wattage until Hyena Bruce gets his nose snuck in a little plastic cup of queso. Then a strikingly exuberant cackle hits the air. A pic of Bruce's predicament is next to pop up in Harley's messages.]
PLEASE don't tell me you let him attend those Rich Guy Galas like this. The press would DESTROY him! 🤣😂🤣😂
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Yeah, um, me too, hon. Me too. Alright, headin' over. I'm wearin' black and red leather pants, corset, and mini jacket. Ya' can't miss me if ya' tried. 😋
[ As she walked along, Harley couldn't help the big grin that spread across her lips at the next picture they sent. ]
Eh, the paparazzi don't bother me no more. Not ever since The Incident™. Hah! 🤪
[ Wanting to make an entrance, Harley began performing expertly executed cartwheels as she approached the east side, with normal and even some hands-free ones just to really show off. ]
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There had been a vague feeling of familiarity growing at the back of his mind; nothing that warranted any real attention until stacked next to that extremely familiar sounding outfit. His Harley's extremely iconic look. Are his hands sweating a little? Nope, nope, everything is fine.]
Oh I had no idea this party had such a flashy dresscode! Stepping up with some of my favorite colors there stranger ;)
You won't miss me either. Look out for a silk turquoise argyle shirt with a purple vest! If Gotham's Favorite
SonFluff isn't enough, hahahaha![He's curious about what kind of Incident could have gone down, always a chaos loving clown, but that strange stomach-fluttering familiarity is starting to distract him. His ears start to track the click-swoosh-clack of her cartwheels from across the way, and he is the first to spot her appraching.
John shoots to his feet. His face feels hot though his bleached skin can't show a hint of color. That's not--It can't be--but is it? The way the Stranger-Not-Stranger moves is far too familiar, coupled with her style, her words, her energy.... No, this isn't his Harley, but this isn't his Gotham, either. But it is Gotham, and she... she must be Harley Quinn.
Okay, now his hands are sweating. He stands completely frozen, both wanting to bolt in the other direction, and fling himself at her feet. Harley... but a version he never betrayed. His extremely brilliant mind races in useless circles; he ends up standing stiff as a board as she approaches, a blistering but subtly nervous grin barring his teeth as a cartwheel lands her only a couple short feet away from him.]
Harley? [Shock, surprise, confusion, fear and adoration all war in the muddy pair of syllables. He looks like he's preparing to duck a punch as much as refraining himself from falling into place at her side.] Is that, uh... Geez, you're different, but... it's you, isn't it? You're really Harley Quinn
for quinnofdiamonds
And I bet YOU are thinking of THAT OTHER GUY. The other, ~other~ me. Not to be confused with The Other Me, right? You get it.
~I~ never tried to kill you. We did fight-- you hit me with an electric hammer. I could tell you the whole story, if you want.
... Over tacos maybe?~
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You dumped me, kicked me out, no..threw me out, I had half of Gotham trying to kill me besides you. I had to go to work for Amanda Waller or have my head go splat like a hamster in a microwave.
I've just gotten my feet under me now and you show up sayin you ain't you?
...you buyin' the tacos?
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As for how many of me are here right now, uh... That... that would be two, I think. Me, John, and that... that other guy. But don't go spreading that around, okay? I don't want people to think I'm ~crazy~
Yeesh, that's... that's a really bad time. And kinda different then what happened to me, but also kinda the same.
BUYING is a bit... liberal. I am GETTING tacos. And queso. And Carne Asada. You know, the basics~
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If, and that's a big if, I agree to this, you gotta promise no killing, maiming or threatin to kill or maim me.
Ohhh god, I can almost taste the jalapenos. Where are we meeting?
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Yeah, yeah, yeah. I've got a BABY kill count. Which means that it's small-- NOT that I kill babies! I'd never, EVER want to hurt you, Harley. Not in any way you didn't really, really want me to 😈
My Best Buddy really hates the whole unaliving thing though, so I'm trying not to do that. Again.
Well I haven't exactly wrangled an apartment yet. Know any good abandoned fun houses around? Nothing worse than cold queso!
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Good to hear about the babies though, I recently met this kid I kinda took a shine to, sort of took her under my wing, like a mini me. Except she's Asian.
I've kinda been using The Booby Trap over at Amusement Mile when I needed clandestine clown activities. Still has some good places to sit and Bruce likes running around peeing on those old topieries.
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Okay well I'm definitely not gunna stab a little Asian you, cross my heart!
Oh sure, I know that place! I can be there in 15. Grappling hook is way faster than the bus.
And uh... I'm ASSUMING you don't mean that sexy gothamite playboy guy? Unless there's some real KINK happening here?
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Unless your Batman is batty as his name, if things really are different there I guess that could be.
That's who I named him after! Brucie is my sweet little baby! My hyena, the sweetest thing. He is just the cutest.
But I think I should leave him at home, we've had some long conversation about me and my Puddin and how things went and he's very sensitive about it all, he might not take it well.
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i'm cool switching to actionspam whenever if ya fancy <3
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-> cont. from Bakerstreet, How Far? meme
Jason flits across his mind. He maybe vaguely shakes his head and smiles.
Somehow, John behind him in his blind spot doesn't stir up any concern in Tim. Maybe it's the fact that the plentiful tower of snacks rustling would give away a sneak attack, but honestly... he just isn't feeling any stranger danger from this guy right now.
Yeah. He knows how that sounds. It's a version of the Joker. He's carrying at least three knives. He's mumbly, and giggly, and scaring the shit out of everyone in a twenty-foot radius.
Tim had a thick skin. Especially since finding the spot he thought he might buy; down at the docks. Gotham didn't seep in and scare him.]
Well, found family is usually more help than strangers.
[Arkham was... found family in a lot of ways. He didn't need to have ever been incarcerated to know that.]
Oh. Well, that's because you look like The Joker. "Clown Prince of Crime"? Gotham's most serious villain. Though, don't let the other baddies, gangsters, and chaos mongers hear you say so.
[Tim shrugs. That's common knowledge. The Joker has been on every media reel, every newspaper... people knew him down pat.
But he probably needed an excuse for knowing this wasn't him, so...]
I figured you're just a cosplayer or something? Anyway, here you go... why don't you sit over here and get situated?
[Having led him to the seat he had in mind, he'd pause, waiting for him to file in.]
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Yeah... usually [ It sounds like he's missing some Found Family, but of course Tim already knows that much. John doesn't offer much more to anyone outside the Batman Club, though. ]
Oh, right! Right... that guy. Pfffft. I was here first [ kind of a lie, kind of the truth ] He looks like me.
[ Well, a good clue that this is John and not The Joker is that no one ended up maimed. The average Gothamite was probably just too scared shitless to make that distinction. ]
Ah, thanks-- just, gimme a sec to settle in...
[ He takes the seat one to the right of Tim's suggestion, meaning if he wants to pass John his snacks, he's going to have step just inside the isle to do it. The clumsy clown seats himself next to a stranger on his other side, who instead of looking terrified, appears coldly curious... which could be a far more dangerous reaction, depending. They whisper something to thier buddy-- a woman stylishly sporting a Phantom's half-mask and a 'DO CRIMES' hoodie. ]
These seats are NOT built for people with legs like mine, I tell ya. Feel like I can rest my chin on my knees. Snacks this way, buddy!
[ John hails with a waving hand, seemingly oblivious to the pair passing faintly excited whispers beside him.
Also, behind Tim? A 250 pound movie goer seating himself in that isle chair-- and his friend, a companion twice as hefty, parking her scooter in the isle as the lights drop around them.
There's no possible way this chain of events could have perfectly orchestrated by the killer clown himself... but it sure is advantageous to John's starvation for company, isn't it? That one solitary seat left empty beside him.
Unless Tim wants to acrobat his way over a lot of other movie goers, while the pre-show is playing. That does mean climbing over either a pair of very large humans, or John, and the rest of the packed row on the other side of him. Decisions, decisions~ ]
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Besides... some of the patrons in this row... gave him kind of a bad feeling??
So, seeing no (normal) way out, he'd clear his throat, duck down his head... and go... to sit beside John.
Sigh. How'd he get himself into this again???
Giving over his treats to him-- balancing some on the arm rest and one on John's knee-- he'd take out his own hard-won packet of gummies and would fold into the seat as the preview reel flashed black and white over their faces, making John look whiter and Tim look darker. More receded.]
...Sorry to crowd you. Looks like politeness necessitates that I'm sitting here.
[He hadn't even been able to go back for his jacket, still on the floor of the lobby. RIP.]
Don't have that problem. I'm short; I fit just fine.
[Tim, maybe don't point out your below-average height that matches the below-average height of a certain Gotham birdie, genius-- he'd think to himself, as he went to peel open the gummies and... try to cope with the reality of being at the movies with... not!Joker.
Like a Twilight Zone Date.]
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Oh, hey! It's all good! Promise I don't got cooties
[ In his efforts to huddle into his seat, John somehow seems to become twice as gangly; the seat even threatens to flip up with him in it, prompting the man to become comically still as though to placate the jester gods of luck toying with him. ]
Lucky you Shorty; sorry if my knees end up in your lap. Tall Guy Awkwardness, TM.
[ It might be because the man is strange as the docks are shady, but that stray streak of self depreciating charm plays quite smooth in the dim murmur of the theater. Even his quiet chuckle lingers a little closer to silk than strange.
As the previews play, under-payed and overworked theater staff hustle through the isles, flinging crispy packaged 3D glasses into the crowd by the handful. Where was the person who should have handed these out by the door? Hopefully not Doing Crimes.
The clever clown catches a pair of glasses mid-air, without looking up from slurping his drink. ]
Here ya go, buddy. Guess it's 3D today?
[ Yeah Tim, let's also place on a mask-like object with a lot of red in the design. This is your life today. ]
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It's unavoidable. Time shifts, turns and leans his shoulder back a little bit after John's too-dexterous catch, and there it is again. The sway of bangs and the flash of blue eyes. This time, they meet John's, before he glances down again to take the crinkly plastic package of glasses.
...He slips them out of their casing, and puts them on with mumbled thanks.
And for anyone observant, it's unmistakable. Blue eyes suddenly muffled and snuffed out behind black covering his upper face; the same hair; the same stark jawline against all the black.]
...Guess the film is starting. We should be quiet now.
In which I add some colorful head-canon~
Whaaaat? They're not domino masks? But this is Gotham! Pfft, SO off-brand!
[ He simply ceases his fixation once those pretty blue eyes are out of sight; John loses a few moments cracking open his soda and a couple bags of candy, preforming some kind of sugar-elixir alchemy as Tim mumbles about how they should quite mumbling, and does not quite sink into his chair.
Why you acting so weird, Tim? There are plenty of people in Gotham with your build and facial structure and hairstyle who wouldn't sweat bullets sitting next to a Joker-look alike. Acting Weird is REALLY the weirdest part of all of this!
For a little bit there it really does seem like John will be quiet; truly, a few minutes is a miracle and someone should pat him on the head and give him a bat-cookie. A couple more previews precede the actual movie and he starts to get a little antsy, tapping his foot on the floor, bouncing his knee, strumming his thigh with his fingers.
He inhales like he's about to ask Tim something. Then stops, like he's thought better.
Suddenly he sways sideways and leans in close, because obviously a whisper is much more appropriate. He probably got much closer than he meant to (enough to heat the air by Tim's ear), because half a second later he reels back twice as fast, pinning Tim with a blazing sheepish grin while a small embarrassed chuckle slides out from betwixt his bare teeth. He clears his throat like he's about to speak and-- doesn't.
Instead of speaking, he silently signs to Tim: ]
First Time at a Theater. How many Previews?
[... why sir, how DARE you suggest this is a test of intellect. This is just John trying to be polite to fellow movie goers! Actually, insinuate everything, John's not alone in that headspace. Eerie clown laughter here. ]
And it turns out to be canon-canon!
And then, when John doesn't speak, his eyes are drawn down... to the acrobatics of his lithe hands.
Tim understands immediately. His brows raise a little; he knows signing, huh? Well... it shouldn't shock him. The Joker in their world was choc full o' totally nuts. But he was also extremely intelligent.
A pause of a moment, before Tim signs back:]
Usually five. Then an infomercial about how to be polite in the theatre. No talking, no cell phones.
I absolutely actually knew that was secretly testing YOU >> << >>
8DDD
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