victory_road | 027 // closed log (we're all got blood on our hands)

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027 // closed log (we're all got blood on our hands)

Who: Joker and Jimmy, and then Joker and Envy
What: Has Joker mentioned he really hates the occult? Well. He does.
When: Some point after the festival
Where: Eve's Garden Circus
Warnings: Talks of kidnapping, child abuse, child death, drugging... Not a fun time.

The first time he'd seen a flicker of her, through the crowd, he'd told himself that it was just stress. Exhaustion. That blonde girl, the one who'd liked the dancers, she'd asked that question about hypnotism and, clearly, that had gotten to him.

It was just a hallucination out of stress. He told himself that. Dead people don't come back to life. He told himself that, too.

That one, especially, is weak.

Angel had clung to him, all fear and teary eyed, and the two of them had fled from the festival to make a run for the only home they really had. Again and again, he'd told himself that everything would be fine and that they'd wake up in the morning peachy. Well, he'd woken up, and there, outside the tents...

Little girl. Not that old- he'd always figured not even ten, honestly. Hair as gold as sunshine filtering through the window in the afternoon, done up in buns. It matches the dress that had been picked out for her, pinstripes, white and yellow, a contrast to the little blue vest and the little blue bow that's tied around her waist. It hits him like a bullet to the skull how sharply he still remembers tying it so clearly, forcing trembling hands to be still while he muttered prayers to a God he could never believe in that maybe tonight it'd be fine and there wouldn't be a show and....

She's still wearing the mask.

So many of those kids wore them. When the decision had first been made, more than a little selfishly, he'd been glad. If they wore masks, if they looked less like children and more like objects, toys, then it would hurt less, right? He wouldn't have to think on them.

It never worked. How could it, when he was the one putting the masks on empty expressions that had been robbed of all energy?

Joker bolts.

Not far. Just to the staff bathrooms. He- well, it doesn't need to be said what he does, right?

What's far more important is when he comes back to himself and looks to the side. Angel is in tears, quivering, nearly about to fall apart, and Joker's heart nearly disappears in a burst. "Angel, darlin', I'm sorry-" He fumbles about at his belt, thanking God he dressed before looking outside and has his Pokeballs on him. There's a distressed cry, her tiny grip tugging at his pants, but he doesn't pay her any mind. He just recalls her for the first time in... months. Sitting there, feeling nothing but bitterness on the back of his tongue, he swallows as he holds her Pokeball in his hand. Even when he'd done his tour around Kanto, he hadn't put her in her Pokeball, just left her running around the Circus and chattering at her everytime he could through the Pokegear. It feels like he's cut off one of his own limbs, not having her energetic presence right there besides him, and Joker feels in a daze as he puts the Pokeball back on his belt and wobbly stands up to look outside.

The girl is still there, mouth set in a vacant line from beneath the rabbit half-mask he'd last seen her in. He runs all the way to the big tent where the rest of his troupe is, trying to ignore her, outrun her. Yet no matter how fast he is, whenever he looks back, she's right there behind him, completely unwinded.

Joker calls a quick meeting amongst all his Pokemon, trying to ignore the presence still behind him and the way his Psychic-types all group together while radiating worry. He makes sure that his orders are clear: none of the Psychics are to go bother him, first of all, and the second is for someone to tell Jimmy that he's in charge until further notice.

Any other time, no matter what else is happening, Joker can keep a mask of his own on and lie through a perfected smile. He has no illusions that he can do the same this time.

And with that... He tries to vanish. Going in public simply isn't an option, not with her still trailing after him. Hiding in the empty spaces of the staff area means it'll be easier to corner him if anyone comes calling- which he hopes to God doesn't happen- but it's his best bet. That means drudging up old stealth skills that have become rusty during his peaceful life in Johto, trying to avoid all his workers who might have questions, but he remembers things soon enough. He supposes you never forget. That's his plan for the daytime. When it's night, when things have closed up and all the stall vendors have gone to their own homes, he wanders through the rest of the circus grounds and does his best not to look at her.

If he just keeps moving... If he doesn't stop... Maybe she'll leave him alone.

The entire time, it doesn't occur to him to even check his Pokegear and see what's happening.

He doesn't even really sleep.

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The festival had been very enjoyable for Jimmy, all things considered. A nice change of pace that didn't involve something cataclysmic happening to the regions or something. Going to the moon was fun, morphing into Pokemon wasn't that fun at all, actually, but this? This was a good balance between exciting and peaceful, for once. And with Jimmy being how he is, he's always on top of things going on in Johto even during the festival.

Then, as if on cue...the ghost sightings begin, and Jimmy's left wondering why he thought that something like this probably wouldn't happen.

Strangely, though, Jimmy doesn't have any apparitions following him...though he thinks he can guess why. It's not something he thinks about often, but he at least understands even though it makes his stomach tighten uncomfortably every time he sees someone on the Network talking about these faces of people long gone that they keep seeing.

Jimmy wouldn't be able to remember anyone to miss. And...it probably doesn't count when you're already one of them yourself. It's for this reason that he eventually decides that he could do with a short break from Ecruteak (not realizing yet that they're showing up most everywhere) and heads off to Goldenrod. It wouldn't be quite as bad if they were like the ghosts in Miseryville, the cartoon types you see that resemble sheets or something similar. But something about all of this is just freaky, so he tries to put it out of his mind when he returns to the big top to check on his own Pokemon left there.

He's surprised when he's almost immediately approached by several of Joker's Pokemon who are able all talking to him at once to impart the news that he's in charge now. He almost can't get a word in before he throws his hands up, Leader's fur sparkling bright enough to get their attention.

"Wait wait, hang on guys! Whaddya mean, wh- where's Joker right now?"

They don't answer. And that's why Jimmy puts it upon himself to go looking for him, telling Leader to stay behind in the tent until he gets back.

Jimmy isn’t the only one who’s blatantly concerned. By all means, Rogue knows that there are certain Pokemon in the troupe that act as Joker’s second in commands just by virtue of being a bit quicker in the mind and able to communicate with even humans better. Still. The Furret is worried at the state of their Ringleader and, the second the others in the troupe aren’t looking, hurries after Jimmy. It doesn’t take long before he’s squeaking alongside him.

Good ol' Rogue. Jimmy looks over when the Furret shows up, reaching a hand down to pet the top of his furry head.

"Hey- y'think you could help sniff out Joker for me? I know he's gotta be around here somewhere...he wouldn't have left without telling me, right?"

Rogue’s answer is an immediate nod of his head. It goes without question! Jimmy is a dear part of the circus and one of Joker’s best friends. Maybe Rogue’s simplistic- even a Furret knows his lmits- but he can tell that much, jeez. His nose smooshes down into the dirt, already rapidly snuffling. Hopefully Jimmy is prepared for a bit of a run-around, because Rogue is latching onto any of Joker’s scents that are the most recent. It takes a little while, but soon enough, he makes a triumphant sound and starts heading to a certain section of the staff area.

Just in time, too- there’s Joker, looking more than a little ruffled and hollow faced as he pops out from a small alley from between two tents. Seeing Jimmy, he nearly trips over his own feet coming to a stop, befuddlement crossing his face. “Jims- what-?”

Jimmy's prepared to search for as long as it takes, honestly. It's not really like his friend to just try to pull a disappearing act...not unless something extremely urgent came up. And while he's not about to tell Joker what to do, it's still a little concerning, considering.

He picks up his pace when Rogue does, jogging over the circus grounds as Rogue leads the way. Jimmy gasps softly with both surprise and relief when he catches sight of Joker.

"Joker, there you are! What's goin' on?"

All the panic burbling in him starts to ease up, funnily enough, at that question. Jimmy doesn’t know. The girl, she should still be behind him, still between the tents, there’s no reason to talk about this. It’s half not even a conscious decision on his end. Joker is all instinct and habit, both of which have been drenched too long in deceit even with the peaceful life Johto has given him.

Smoothly, his expression relaxes into one of his trademark smiles, and he casually shifts so that he’s still blocking most of the way into the little alley. He just has to keep her there… “Just takin’ care of some other business, Jims. Ha, didn’t think ya would come runnin’ for me so soon! Is all that responsibility too much, then?”

Fortunately for Joker, Jimmy can't yet see the source of his distress, even with how tall he is. But if she decides to wander any closer, that might change.

Jimmy's expression turns from concern to confusion at Joker's own shift, his explanation doing well enough to calm him down from the panic he'd almost been in.

"Oh, uh...well! I mean...I was just wonderin', that's all! The Pokemon in the tent seem kinda...awfully stirred up, don't they?"

Ah, right… Joker tries to wave his hand airily, even though he’s feeling anything but. “Ah, well, Angel started ta not feel well, so I think that’s got everyone in a buzz.” Not untrue. “Besides, I guess the festival started stirrin’ up ghost problems, so that ain’t helpin’, ha ha!” Not untrue
.
All of it, he’s making up along as he’s going, trying to find the right balance of truth so that things aren’t unbelievable but still blatantly false. Right as he says it, however, something flickers up in his mind. Ah ha. “That’s what I’m busy with, matter of fact.” He’s just… thinking about completely different kinds of ghosts. ~~He thinks.~~

"Oh...you are?" Jimmy asks, tilting his head a little as he exchanges a glance with Rogue before looking back up at Joker. "Well...hey, I mean- if you need some help with ghosts, I can give you a hand!"

“Ah-” And there’s that moment of faltering, not helped by Rogue’s incessant chittering. The Furret is going to give up the jig at this rate, knowing the truth as he does. Joker keeps speaking, trying to keep the noises his Pokemon makes from being noticeable. “Nah, it’s fine, it’s fine, Jims. Besides, if we’re both doin’ that, who’s gonna make sure the circus is doin’ alright?”

Jimmy's having a hard time not noticing. He has three Furrets now, after all; he's gotten pretty good at telling when they're agitated. Not to mention the fact that he knows Rogue personally.

He puts a gentle hand on his head, as if that will help soothe him. "Well...yeah, I guess you got a point. But...you'd let me know if you needed help, right?"

In this moment, more than any other, Joker remembers how much he doesn’t actually like lying. It’s a hard thing to forget with how Jimmy is standing there right in front of him, all wide eyes and good intentions. He thinks of all the dumb children’s cartoons and movies he’s seen on the television when he’s put it on for his troupe, all the little story lessons of how people should just talk. All the eye rolls when drama in a film is because people don’t just tell other people things.

Yeah. Easy to scoff when it’s on a screen.

Yet here, standing in front of him now, what comes out of his mouth is…

“Hey now, Jims… I’m all grown up, ain’t I?” He can’t even stop himself. The words leave him before he gets a chance to. “What kinda things would I need help with?”

Though Jimmy is naive to a fault, he's been here for nearly three whole years now. That's a lot of growing up he's done, and a lot of learning. He can tell by the way Joker's voice is a bit higher, thinner than normal that something is a bit off...but he's not going to ask what or why. It's just not in him to pry.

So, with his hand sliding off of Rogue's head, he shrugs a little.

"Well...grown-ups need help with stuff too sometimes. Even Lucy needed my help with things, and I'm still just a kid!"

If nothing else, Joker relaxes at Jimmy’s easy acquiescence to all of this. It’s visible from the way his shoulders ease up and… something in his expression that changes. A little more honest relief on the edges of his smile than his practiced showman’s grin.

He doesn’t deserve half the folks he knows, but god if he isn’t thankful for them.

Sure, Rogue might not like it judging by the sulky tone his noises have taken on, but oh well. Joker told the little rascal.

“Yeah… I suppose they do.” He runs a hand through his hair, catching a couple of strands that have fallen out of place and putting them back again. “But I think I’ll take care of this myself, for starters, and I’ll let y’know if I need anythin’, alright?”

And that pretty much settles it, for Jimmy. He trusts Joker; if he needs him, he'd tell him. That's all there is to it.

"Okay, sure! I'll hang around and keep an eye on the Circus for you while you're gone, I promise!"

“Thatta boy.” Reaching over, he ruffles Jimmy’s hair with a look of relief. This just means he’s going to have to figure out his ghost problem and get rid of it all the quicker.

He has people to look after.

“While yer lookin’ after the circus, ‘tho, there’s one more thing I’d like ya ta watch, too.” From his belt, he unclips a certain pokeball. The sight of it has Rogue whine in concern. “Angel’s needed a bit of private time, so can ya keep her Pokeball safe while I work on things?”

Envy's own ghost has been sent off back wherever it came from by the time he leaves Ecruteak and arrives back in Goldenrod, but that doesn't mean he's doing okay exactly. Her being around him, even silently, for days on end, and him having had to actually confront her...and all that so soon after that memory loss Friday where he'd actually gone back to being her puppet for a day?

It's left him with a whole hell of a lot to think about, not much of it good.

He and Heather have decided to spend one night back in Goldenrod before they hop on the train back to Kanto, and there's always one place that's good to go to and not think. The circus is practically his second home by now, a comforting and familiar place, and running through a practice routine or several can occupy him plenty. He needs it, right now.

An absences of Joker is always something noticeable. It had been back when their ringleader had gone on his own badge journey, and it is now. But this time, there's something off. He's heard worried mutters among the other staff, questions as to where their boss has gotten off to, and the Pokemon troupe doesn't look quite right when he sees them either. Something's not right.

And after everything that's been happening? Envy thinks he has an idea as to what. He remembers what Joker told him about his own past.

He hadn't had to deal with his ghost alone, and he doesn't have any intention of letting Joker do so either. And if there's nothing the matter, if it's all in Envy's head from stress, then...well, he'll just have to take the risk of looking stupid and paranoid.

So he goes looking, checking every corner of the circus grounds, Lucky by his side in case the Houndoom can pick up a stronger scent or something to help find the wayward ringmaster.

Joker’s scent, as it turns out, is nearly all around the circus grounds, in various states of freshness. He’s certainly made his rounds throughout the place, that can’t be denied. However, going through the staff area is where it’s at its strongest. Nearly every little tent or building there has traces at least once… But it’s through a small alley between some of them that the ringleader can be found.

He’s not in good shape.

His clothes haven’t been changed for a few days now, and he’s forgone his usual eyecatching makeup which unfortunately means there’s nothing hiding the dark circles that have started to form notably beneath his eyes. The fashionable twist of a ponytail he often puts his hair up into has started to fallen apart, and droops in the places where it isn’t outright loose. Stains, dirt stains, coat some of the areas of his pants. Worst of all, he seems more than a little out of it, not even noticing there’s anyone else nearby.

Then again, the way he keeps glancing towards the girl at the other end of the little alleyway gap is certainly keeping his attention preoccupied.

When he actually lays eyes on Joker, Envy's first thought is that he wishes he had been imagining a problem out of paranoia.

This is bad.

He doesn't see the little girl right off, attention occupied with hurrying over to Joker.

"Hey. Hey, Joker!"

It's only once he gets closer that he follows that haunted look and sees its target. The little girl with the mask, all dressed up for a performance, as though she was just another worker here. If it wasn't so obvious that she was one of the ghosts, between her silent stare and Joker's distress, he would've wondered if there was just a new hire.

He remembers what Joker had told him a while back. About what he'd used to do...that he'd stolen children for some cultish purposes or other.

"Look at me. How long have you been hiding back here?"

Lucky, alarmed at the state his trainer's boss is in, whines and sniffs at Joker's hand.

Envy’s voice snaps Joker out of his daze like a gunshot. The ringleader jerks up, tension taking over his body, and habit forces a smile onto his face. In any other situation, it’d be a flawless imitation of his usual grins. The perfect mask to keep people off his case. Right now, however, the strain couldn’t be more obvious, especially with the panic shining bright in his eyes.
“Envy! Hey, just, haven’t been hidin’, it’s just-”

The words flounder in his throat as he realizes the shape he’s in and that, really, no excuse is going to cut it here. Any kind of lie will be seen clean through. If there’s any a time for emotional honesty, it’s now.

What Joker does instead is try to duck around Envy and step over Lucky.

Even if Envy had been in a normal state of mind, he would have followed after Joker in spite of the escape attempt.

He is not in a normal state of mind. Lack of sleep, not eating right, and the general emotional turmoil of the past few days have put him in more of a state where he's just all around Done with social niceties.

When Joker steps around him, Envy turns with him and just...reaches out to grab him, either by his good arm, and then if that misses he's going to try and get an arm around his middle. And if neither of those catch?

He's following.

"Oh come on--no you can't just go hide somewhere else."

Fortunately, Joker isn’t in the best of conditions either. His arm is easy to grab, and he makes a startled frustrated noise as he jerks to a stop. “Could and I would if ya would just let go of me,” he mutters under his breath, twisting and tugging somewhat but weakly.

“Envy, c’mon- lemme go. Just. Please.” His voice breaks.

Envy has no intention of letting go, no matter how much it hurts to see Joker like this. His jaw sets into a stubborn frown.

"You wouldn't if you found me looking like you do now. You look like hell, Joker."

He glances towards the last place he saw that little girl, as though to check that she hasn't moved, and his voice quiets, tired.

"They don't go away from ignoring them. I tried, too."

Fortunately, the girl is still there. In fact, she almost seems like she’s normal, with her hands laced innocently behind her back as she rocks back and forth on her heels. There’s nothing that really hints she’s anything but a child, save for the knowledge that Envy has. She has all the time in the world.

Joker seems perfectly happy to keep weekly tugging at his arm, not wanting to address the problem at all… at least until those final words. Those are the ones that have him pause, looking up from beneath limp bangs in confusion.

“What…?”

Had...had he not known?

"I tried that. Tried ignoring her for three days...no matter where I went or how much I screamed or threw things or...almost anything, she didn't leave. There's a lot of these...ghosts, following people around. Ever since the festival."

He looks back over, this time almost studying the girl, thinking this over.

"She's...someone you know, isn't she? Or...you told me about those kids...?"

He hasn’t had a single clue.

Usually, Joker isn’t that bad when it comes to the network. He flicks through it regularly, now that he’s had the years to get used to this level of technology, and sometimes he even has Invidia set things up so that it pings whenever a new post has been put up. A naturally talkative and nosy type, Joker will freely admit that about himself, so of course he’s not going to miss out.

...At least, that’s his line of thinking when he’s put together and in his right mind. However, the appearance of the girl has thrown all of that out of order, and it even takes him a second to realize that of course people would be talking about this on the network. That’s humanity for you- it could almost be the end of the world and raining sharks, but people would chatter about it if they had an audience.

Reluctantly, shoulders drawn up and his fingers still curled into a tight fist, Joker glances back over his shoulder at the girl while Envy talks. Actual enormous and near magical beasts, people who could beat him in a fight, bizarre natural disasters- he can face all of them with a lazy grin and a bewildered laugh. But her? He looks at her like she could take out his other arm and leave him to die. When he swallows, he might as well be eating sandpaper for how comfortable it is.

“...The last performance he had me do,” Joker finally admits in a mutter, grimacing. “The person he’d been lookin’ for, this child earl, he’d finally showed up and Father… He wanted a show ta go with the dinner that'd been prepared.”

As Joker seems to relent, Envy loosens his grip on the man's arm. He doesn't let go...but that's half because in this place, he's been shown that simple contact in times like this can make all the difference in the world.

As before, Envy listens to what's said without recoiling or even looking disgusted with Joker. The homunculi may have never gone after children specifically, but there are plenty of horrors that Envy is responsible for.

And he knows what it's like to have a master. For all that Joker's his boss and Envy seeing him as an equal...comparatively, Joker is so much younger.

"What kind of show?"

It's a quiet question, a prompting rather than an interrogation. Whatever Joker says, Envy's not sure he'll be surprised no matter how awful it is.

If Envy thinks Joker is young, then the ringleader himself feels young just remembering that time. Father never failed to make him feel like he was a helpless child again. Was it genuine? Was he just living up to that parental role he’d always held to them, from the moment he’d offered them a hand out of the gutter they’d been born in? Or was it manipulative, how he always acted like Joker was so young and foolish and needed guidance in order to be a good boy helping his father?

He’d been an adult. He is an adult. He ran a circus and runs another one, doing all the hard work that such a thing entails. And yet... None of it had ever mattered. All of his accomplishments were nothing compared to the constant failure of not finding Earl Phantomhive.

And in the end, even accomplishing that had ended in failure and death.
Joker’s arm shakes and jerks in Envy’s grip, wanting to reach up and tangle his fingers through his hair. “Circus show. Y’know-” He takes in a deep rattling breath, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head like he can force out the memories if he does it well enough. “Classics. Knife throwin’. Beast tamer.” His expression spasms in a grimace. “...Tight rope.”

Suddenly, he twists sharply around to face Envy as words hiss out from between clenched teeth. “I ain’t a clue what they did ta ‘em! I don’t know! I brought ‘em, I know I ain’t innocent, but I never hurt a hair on those kids! I never would have wanted to! They- they were always a little drugged, a little loopy, but it wasn’t ever bad. They were still there, still themselves, laughin’ and smilin’ even if it were a little- not there. If… If that’s how they were when I had ta put on the shows…”

His shoulders slump as he presses his face into his hand, hair hanging limply about his face. “...Woulda kept ‘em safe. Best I could. I swear I woulda. Ya can teach kids, ya can- we were kids when we started learnin’ things on the street.” The inhale he chokes in is half wet.

“...But Father did somethin’. Or someone he knew, maybe. Next time ya saw those kids, they… There wasn’t any trace of ‘em. Just- blank. Some couldn’t even do nothin’ but stand and stare unless ya prodded ‘em along. And gettin’ one ta walk across a tight rope...” After a second, he draws in a stuttering hiss of a laugh.

“Hell with me. Like anyone wouldn’t know what got done, lookin’ at the scars left on their heads, and I’m tryin’ ta say it was just somethin’.”

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027 // closed log (we're all got blood on our hands)

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