Joker the Super Sane

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Birthday: 09/12

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It can be argued that the Joker is one of Batman’s greatest enemies. He isn’t as smart as Ra’s Al Ghul, as strong as Bane, or as conniving as The Penguin, but maybe it is his completely random behavior and chilling ruthlessness that Batman has trouble dealing with. The Joker seems to live for causing havoc, and delights at making Batman squirm.
His origin is a mystery, maybe even to the Joker himself. He has told no less than three different versions of it. It seems that he recreates himself as often as there is days. Whether his true identity will be revealed is still a mystery.

The Joker is an insane madman with skills in chemical engineering and weapon design that he uses to create deadly combinations that kill, maim, and torture his victims. He is responsible for the deaths of many people, and has contributed to the mental breakdown of others as well, as was the case with Harleen Quinzel, a psychiatrist at the mental hospital Arkham Asylum where the Joker has been a frequent resident. He made her fall in love with him and got her to help him escape, and in turn drove her over the edge. She has recreated herself as Harley Quinn, and has become an accomplice and lover to the Joker.

Being Batman’s archenemy, the Joker has chosen not just Batman, but his friends and teammates to attack as well. He killed Jason Todd, also known as Robin, who was the second to pick up that mantle. He shot and paralyzed Barbara Gordon, Commissioner Jim Gordon’s daughter and was also responsible for the death of Jim’s wife, Sarah. The Joker lives to bring havoc to the world and his favorite person to torture has usually been Batman.

Even though it would be easier to kill the Joker, Batman has chosen to take a higher road, never taking it into his own hands to end the tyranny of the Joker, but taking him time and again to Arkham Asylum, hoping that one day, the Joker will be cured of his insanity.
http://comicbooks.about.com/od/batman/p/jokerbio.htm

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Mini-Quinzel Report | 02/17/2015 3:56 pm
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Harley squealed in surprise and delight as her clown prince finally returned to consciousness, bloody, mad and full of life. She felt an unquenchable need for his touch. She gasped as he pushed her down on the bed, smiling as he spastically articulated his words, feeling the warm, rushed air escaping his lips and hitting her face. His eyes, bloodshot with some sort of crazed disposition, challenged her own. She lifted her head, slightly puckering her lips, finally having found the perfect time to make a move and give him a smooch. So close, she could almost taste him... She batted her eyelashes and- "What a rush, Harles! Boy, I mean really! You simply HAVE to try it sometime! Really gets the adrenaline pumping in the A.M., am I right?!" Nevermind to that plan then. What a tease! She pouted playfully, happy that J was himself again. Partly focusing in on his bantering, she studied the uncontrollable enthusiasm in his eyes as he spoke of inflicting terror on Gotham. His very voice was a weapon, his eyes so much like daggers that if you looked into them too deeply, they would cut your heart out. As he rummaged through the dresser drawers, she caught sight of a small booklet on the edge of the furniture. She strutted over to the object that caught her eye and noticed a dull tarnish coating the edge of the pages, the binding nearly falling apart. With no label on the outside, her curiosity enticed her to open the small book. She carefully fingered the pages, some stained with blood of a deep hue, accompanied by incomprehensible small notes and entries that seemed as if they were written in a frantic state. Inside were also small drawings, bats perhaps? With X's marked over them. It was obvious that this was the work of the Joker. There was some instances where pages were ripped when the ink seemed deeper, as if they were tipped apart in the intensity of his writing. "Hey puddin, what's this?"

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Mini-Quinzel Report | 01/21/2015 7:07 pm
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Harley jumped as she heard a crash in the next room. “Harley… Harley, come in here…” Immediately she burst through the door, blasting a hinge off of the weak doorframe. Her hands automatically covered her mouth as she gasped in shock at the sight of the scene before her. Broken glass was strewn across the carpet. Sitting on the bed was her Joker, hands covered in crimson red and shivering… Blood and sweat were mixed into his green locks as he lay there murmuring to himself, breathing erratically. Harley could have sworn she heard a rattle from deep within his lungs. Had he done this to himself? She felt a tear roll down her face at the sight of her puddin’ in pain. “Mistah J, what happened?!” Climbing onto the stiff mattress, she lifted up his head and set it on her lap. He was distant. His toxic eyes were staring into something far beyond her reach. She shook his shoulders as her own tears splattered onto his painted cheek, mixing with the red color on the edge of his pressed lips. “Talk to me!” She grabbed a nearby pillow and used her teeth to rip a piece of cloth from the pillowcase in a plan to bandage his bloodied hands. She tried separating his fingers from a fist but he simply wouldn’t budge, as if his they were plastered together. “What did I do wrong puddin’ Was it me? Did I do somethin’ wrong?!!” What could have possibly caused this?! After getting out of that hellhole of an asylum, she could have sworn he would have been happy! All she wanted to do was make him laugh. She panicked at his non-responsiveness and pried for a reaction. “Come on puddin’, everything’s ay-okay now!” She tried tickling him, telling jokes, but to no avail. She even tried putting on his makeup, using a white to cover her entire face and applying a black lipstick, completely with mascara and all, with not even so much as the raise of an eyebrow to confirm his approval. In her final attempt, and in its way her own desperate finale, she propped him up against the bed frame. Her palms shaking, she touched his wounds, allowing blood to spill over onto her hands. She laughed and cried simultaneously, confused by her emotions and occupied only by the thought to make him himself again. She placed her finger at the corner of her lip, painting a smile similar to his own on her wet face. She failed to recognize that she was acting like a lunatic, a complete hot mess. “Come on, just smile for me Mistah J!” Black mascara dribbled down and rested below her eyes, providing dark circles very fitting against her bloody grin. “It ain’t that hard, see?!”

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Mini-Quinzel Report | 01/14/2015 5:54 pm
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... "Harley, what's that over there? Is that the Batman?!" “Huh?! Where?” She turned her head to the clouds as heard the sound of shattered glass. She figured J saw something he liked. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep a lookout for the Bat!” As she looked off into the distance, she scowled at the image painted upon the sky. The caped “crusader” sure was bein’ a slacker today! Maybe he got caught up in somethin’ else? She wouldn’t have minded. The more the Bats stayed away, the more she and her puddin’ could play! After a few minutes, she yawned. Nothing could really keep her attention before she liked to move on to something else. "Yoohoo, Harley! It's time to go." She giggled as he leaped out of the broken glass window and clicked his heels together before continuing his dance through the streets. He guided her through a small, rusted gate into an alley lined with a complex of abandoned factory buildings before reaching an open door, paint chipping away at its base. "Home!" She followed close behind as the smell of dust assaulted her nostrils. The light flickered for a few seconds before sustaining and revealing a drab cubicle with no windows. Harley could compromise the small space (more of an excuse to get close) but she figured she would have to convince J to let her redecorate, or at least add a mattress. She watched her clown run energetically and leap over the desk, landing perfectly in his chair. She clapped and whistled. “Wow J! My turn!” This was her chance to impress him! She cartwheeled and back flipped over the desk before plopping down onto the ground beside him. “Betcha didn’t know I could do that too, huh?” She released a vocal pout as she realized he wasn’t paying attention. Instead, he had pulled out a small bag. "Try this on, Harles. Something nice and dry for you..."
She squealed as she reached for the bag. “Oh puddin’, for me?!” She jumped up and down before kissing his cheek, leaving a dark lipstick stain. She reached within the bag to pull out a gorgeous black and red jumpsuit accompanied with matching gloves and booties. The suit had stitched on it contrasting heart and diamond patterns on both sides. She beamed as she played with the adorable white fluffs on the edge of a Jester style headdress. “I absolutely love love LOVE it Mista J! You shouldn’t have!... I mean, you should have. I’m really glad you did, but you get the point!” She stood there smiling for a bit. Did he want her to try it on, right now? “Uh…” she said, as he sat directing across from her, hands folded on his desk. She blushed a deep red… “Uh, don’t look puddin’” she cooed and flashed an innocent grin as she turned her back to him. She slid out of her formal attire, easily slipping into the jumpsuit and zipping it up the back. Just her size too! He must have really studied her in order to guess the perfect proportions… Or maybe it was just a lucky guess? She immediately put on the gloves jumped into the booties. It felt so… Right! She couldn’t wait to see herself in the mirror! Displaying herself in several poses, the smile never left her face. She had never had so much fun playing dress-up! “How do I look, puddin’?”
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Mini-Quinzel Report | 01/12/2015 12:53 pm
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“Oh, Mista J! That was so fun?! Did you see me in there? I blew that guy’s head clean off, J! Knocked him right off his-“… Something wasn’t right. “…Puddin?” Her prince didn’t seem very happy to be out of that hellhole. She figured he would be much more excited! She saw that he was looking off into the distance with a scrowl, a disgruntled appearance written across his painted face. Harley squinted her eyes and peered up at the luminescent beam settled in the clouds, a very familiar symbol looming over the city. "I haven't even gotten to enjoy myself yet... And they call the Batman... Unbelievable..."
Why did the Bat have to come and ruin their special fun?! Harley’s lips formed into a pronounced pout. “Stupid Batman! Just try to come get us! I dare ya!” She stuck her tongue out at the light in sky, just in case he was watching. “He’s not gonna get us, right?” Even as she addressed him, he only looked onward. “He’s not gonna come take you away from me, will he?” Tears swelled up in her eyes. She couldn’t bear the thought of being separated from her puddin’ when he needed her the most! She tilted her porcelain chin away from the Joker’s vision to hide the look of weakness on her face. She knew how he felt about weakness. And she definitely didn’t want to embarrass or disappoint him, not after this grand ordeal. She decided to regain composure quickly. “Quit bein’ weak, Harley… No one likes a big baby” she said quietly to herself. Hearing footsteps, she turned her head only to find him a few yards away, trudging along, so very collected for Gotham’s most wanted escape artist. "It's time to leave, Harles..." She ran up behind him, gripping firmly onto his left muscle. “Whadda we do now? If we stay here, the Bat is gonna find us…” Silence. Was he ignoring her? She didn’t like that.
“You do have a plan, don’t you?”

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Mini-Quinzel Report | 01/10/2015 5:41 pm
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"Come close, Harley. Come very close."
So she did what she was told. He came so close to her face that she swore he was going to kiss her. She closed her eyes and prepared for the delicate touch of his lips, how she imagined it would be so-
"OPEN THIS ******** DOOR RIGHT NOW! OPEN IT, OR I'LL SLICE HER THROAT CLEAN OPEN!"
Shocked, she felt his arm tighten around her neck. She kept quiet and complied with Mister J’s plan. So this is what he meant when he asked if she could trust him… And she did. Even with the makeshift razor pressed against her jugular, she knew she would rather have her life in his hands than anyone elses. Guards appeared from every which way, raising their guns in a defensive stance, men in reinforced armor against a harmless madman and his hostage. Sirens blared as they walked through the open corridor. Prisoners had managed to escape, pounding their fists against the ground like primates on the run and tackling nearby guards. Some unlucky men were disemboweled. Harley spotted an inmate with a small intestine wrapped around his neck like a fashionable boa as he strutted around babbling incoherently. She was glad that she was safe from those animals while she was held in her Joker’s arms. Not even the most unpredictable of loons was ready to interfere with the clown prince, for they knew where they would lie soon after- in a puddle of blood, limp and cold on the concrete floor. It almost seemed like a party when the red lights began to flash and sirens howled, as if this chaos had formed into an elaborate dance, and her and her clown were at the center of it all, reveling in this bloodbath. Suddenly, she felt the corners of her lips contort into a twisted smile. The twisted smile turned into a giggle, and in turn a laugh. Harley laughed so hard, tears rolled down her face! She hadn’t felt this good in a long time.
"One moment, milady," She watched as her dearest Joker, so full of glee, hopped into a nearby cubicle. Impatiently waiting, she tapped her foot in anticipation. “Hurry up, Mista J!”
… Mista J? She could have sworn there was some sort of an accent in there that she never heard before. Oh well, she shrugged it off as she saw her J walk out in the most dapper, and certainly most fitting ensemble. Just like she saw on the television- a handsome suit that outlined his personality as well as a dashing smile to top it all off. She blushed the rosiest red and cooed when he set a loveable kiss upon her forehead.
"We're not out of the thick of it yet, though, no sirrey... We still need to get out. Round two?"
"Round two, you BET!" Full of a new found vigor and enthusiasm, she felt as if her inner child was released. The world turned bright, as if she were seeing everything through new eyes. It felt good. Leaning down below a dead guard, a look of horror plastered on his face, she giggled and booped him on the nose. "Poor ol' guy!" She grabbed the gun from his stiff hands. "Come on puddin', I know a shortcut!" Looping The Joker through a smaller corridor, she began singing out loud, "All around the mulberry bush the monkey chased the weasel!" Another turn through another corridor... "The monkey thought twas all in good fun" Upon the third turn the two came face to face with a terrified guard. "POP!" the man's head exploded into splats of red that contrasted beautifully against the drab walls. "Goes the weasel!"
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Mini-Quinzel Report | 01/09/2015 6:08 pm
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"Harley, do you trust me?"
She didn't have to think twice. It had been 3 weeks in the asylum with her Joker and she had come to care for him more than she would like to admit. Yes, he had killed hundreds of innocent people. But what had that to do with her? She never would think for a moment that he thought of her the same as the rest. No one understood the brilliance hidden behind the clown makeup. He was just a man with a broken past, trying to make the world laugh at his antics, being broken down again and again by the Bat, a "vigilante" only disguised as a hero. Her J only needed love, and she was sure of it. Tilting her head to the side and taking his hands in hers, the side of her lip rose into a genuine smile.
"Of course I trust you, Mister J, and you know I would do anything..."
It was no use hiding her feelings now.
"I would do anything to have you out of here and happy. I know it sounds pathetic but, I would."
However... She hated to think that she would never see him again, or that she could never continue this secret affair with the patient she had ironically fallen in love with. She knew it was wrong, but she didn't seem to give a damn.

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Mini-Quinzel Report | 01/09/2015 1:16 pm
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"Hello, doctor"
"Good afternoon"
She sat down and crossed her legs. They sat in silence. She was taking her time, thinking about how she would bring it up to him. She pursed her lips, waiting for him to say something, anything about the note he left her the night prior. She pulled out the note and set it on the desk that separated them. It read "Stop by and see me some time, -J" He only sat there, a sheepish grin emerging from under the scars as he shrugged his shoulders matter-of-factly. "Do you care to explain to me how exactly you got out of your cell last night?" ...No answer. As expected. It was like him, to tease her this way. She sighed and shifted her position in the comfortable chair. She wondered why The Joker had to sit in such a beaten up wooden one, with restraints and shackles, when they were not much different. "Look" she continued, trying to find the words to explain to him... "The note was very flattering, and the flowers were a nice touch. You can guess that I haven't told anyone about this. I could lose my job..." The last thing she wanted to do was let her beloved patient down. She looked around, biding her time before grabbing a key from under the desk and uncuffing him. She sat back. As expected, he made no move to harm her. She was not worried about the security cameras, for she knew they were hardly ever monitored and most had been broken by rioting inmates and left unrepaired. There was no doubt Arkham was the most corrupt of any asylum around (not that there were any around) and she had even heard rumors of employees taking part in criminal matters. What was the most corrupt thing of all, however, was that they were keeping her poor Joker here, locked up and forced to live in such undesirable conditions. "You can't tell anyone that I'm doing this, but you know that they aren't going to let you out of here... I just can't stand to see you chained up every time we talk" Her heart fluttered as she moved her thumb against his raw wrists and felt the pulse of life within them. "I don't normally do this sort of thing... But you need to know that you're different to me, okay? I don't have my recording device with me. That way no one can listen in on what we have to say... We could record something for the records later..." she wanted to ask him something else, something she had been dwelling on since he first asked her to uncuff him, and even more so when he left her that note.
"Why is it you're completely capable of breaking out of here, but you choose to stay?"

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Mini-Quinzel Report | 01/09/2015 11:22 am
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Part 1
Harleen sat in silence as she waited for the Joker to take his side in this little interview. She watched as his face contorted and changed, fighting back many different expressions, considering his next move. "Are you happy with where you are, Harleen Quinzel?" As the handsome clown continued on in his elaboration, she seemed to have little time to formulate an answer. Was she happy with where she was? All that work it took to get her here, at this very moment, she seemed content talking to this man in front of her. But her job at Arkham…? He mentioned the killer croc. “Does that make you feel safe, Harleen? Does it make you feel good about your job, where you are?” She knew very well of the lunatics that resided in these halls. She learned to block out the hollers and threatening remarks after about a week of being here. Not a day would go by of walking up and down these halls without a murderer or rapist pressing their grimy hands against the glass and making a comment about how they would love to get their hands on such a dainty little blonde, that her day would come soon enough. It wasn’t the most comfortable experience, and it’s not like she could trust in the security here… so why was it that she didn’t dread coming to work? She certainly didn’t do it for the pay. She did want to help these people, genuinely. After a while, however, playing the good guy was hard. She had tried these tactics before, talking to the patient without the clipboard, listening intently, but other inmates always seemed to take her methods for granted. But The Joker, however… He wasn’t like that, was he? No, there was something... special about this one. "I don't like it in here, Harley. I am not crazy like the rest of these animals. I am different," his eyes twinkled with a moment of sincerity, and her heart throbbed with emotions she hadn’t felt in a long time. With every word she wanted to get closer in, touch his beaten face, tell him that she understood as she struggled to restrain herself. Suddenly, his chair slammed on the floor as it returned to all four legs. She flinched and receded back, but he only tugged back on her heartstrings with those eyes, flickering with desperation, to keep her close. "and you know that! And I know why. Because, Harleen, you're like me. You understand better than the rest. You understand..."

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Mini-Quinzel Report | 01/09/2015 11:21 am
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Part 2

He refused to break eye contact and remained frozen in his forward position. He was expecting an answer, and it seemed he wouldn’t rest again until she gave him one. She looked down at his damaged hands, bent and broken with knuckled bulged with years of using them as weapons. She wondered if those hands would ever be used for something other than fighting one day. She sighed and touched his hand, the most intimate thing she could allow herself to do. Even touching his hand didn’t provide relief, but it was something. She sought for the inner strength to meet his emerald eyes. “Well, Mister J, if I may call you that…” she looked for a sign of approval in his face. Nothing. The beautiful face was merely transfixed on hers, with a slight c**k of his head to the right. Waiting. “You’re right. This isn’t the best place to be. But there seems as if… there is no other job out there where I could find myself fitting in. I’ve tried desk jobs. I felt safe, and the pay was fine… But it was never enough for me. I still had this void. Oddly enough, I only find solace knowing I can come here every day and at least attempt in helping those who lost their way… who don’t want to be here. And it seems to me…” she swallowed nervously, “you don’t really belong here, do you? I would like to help you find your way out of this place… But it is going to require cooperation, you understand?”

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Mini-Quinzel Report | 01/09/2015 11:16 am
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[size=11][color=darkred][align=center]Harleen sat in silence as she waited for the Joker to take his side in this little interview. She watched as his face contorted and changed, fighting back many different expressions, considering his next move.[color=green] [b]"Are you happy with where you are, Harleen Quinzel?"[/b][/color] As the handsome clown continued on in his elaboration, she seemed to have little time to formulate an answer. Was she happy with where she was? All that work it took to get her here, at this very moment, she seemed content talking to this man in front of her. But her job at Arkham…? He mentioned the killer croc.[color=green] [b]“Does that make you feel safe, Harleen? Does it make you feel good about your job, where you are?”[/b][/color] She knew very well of the lunatics that resided in these halls. She learned to block out the hollers and threatening remarks after about a week of being here. Not a day would go by of walking up and down these halls without a murderer or rapist pressing their grimy hands against the glass and making a comment about how they would love to get their hands on such a dainty little blonde, that her day would come soon enough. It wasn’t the most comfortable experience, and it’s not like she could trust in the security here… so why was it that she didn’t dread coming to work? She certainly didn’t do it for the pay. She did want to help these people, genuinely. After a while, however, playing the good guy was hard. She had tried these tactics before, talking to the patient without the clipboard, listening intently, but other inmates always seemed to take her methods for granted. But The Joker, however… He wasn’t like that, was he? No, there was something... special about this one. [color=green][b]"I don't like it in here, Harley. I am not crazy like the rest of these animals. I am different,"[/b][/color] his eyes twinkled with a moment of sincerity, and her heart throbbed with emotions she hadn’t felt in a long time. With every word she wanted to get closer in, touch his beaten face, tell him that she understood as she struggled to restrain herself. Suddenly, his chair slammed on the floor as it returned to all four legs. She flinched and receded back, but he only tugged back on her heartstrings with those eyes, flickering with desperation, to keep her close.[color=green][b] "and you know that! And I know why. Because, Harleen, you're like me. You understand better than the rest. You understand..."[/b][/color] He refused to break eye contact and remained frozen in his forward position. He was expecting an answer, and it seemed he wouldn’t rest again until she gave him one. She looked down at his damaged hands, bent and broken with knuckled bulged with years of using them as weapons. She wondered if those hands would ever be used for something other than fighting one day. She sighed and touched his hand, the most intimate thing she could allow herself to do. Even touching his hand didn’t provide relief, but it was something. She sought for the inner strength to meet his emerald eyes. [b]“Well, Mister J, if I may call you that…”[/b] she looked for a sign of approval in his face. Nothing. The beautiful face was merely transfixed on hers, with a slight c**k of his head to the right. Waiting. [b]“You’re right. This isn’t the best place to be. But there seems as if… there is no other job out there where I could find myself fitting in. I’ve tried desk jobs. I felt safe, and the pay was fine… But it was never enough for me. I still had this void. Oddly enough, I only find solace knowing I can come here every day and at least attempt in helping those who lost their way… who don’t want to be here. And it seems to me…”[/b] she swallowed nervously, [b]“you don’t really belong here, do you? I would lik
 
 
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