Joker (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
pipers_son) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
victory_road2016-08-19 04:07 pm
pipers_son) wrote in victory_road2016-08-19 04:07 pm
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.
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.