Lead Poisoning (1/1): Independent Arachnology

==The Clocktower- Current Residence of the Bat-Family. One day after the Misfits' attack==

 

"Thank you, Mr Pennyworth," Needham said gratefully, as he took his cup of tea from off of Alfred's silver platter, and sipped it slowly. “Look," he continued, turning his attention to Bruce. "Fiasco believed that Day was masterminding events; Toying with Carson and the Misfits, maybe King of Cats too, all in a deliberate attempt to lure Walker back to Gotham. As part of a scheme where he needed him, and the rest of his crew, in attendance.”

 

“And you believe him?” Bruce asked.

 

"Hhn. I believe something's going on. But whether Day's the mastermind, or he's another pawn like Carson is another matter entirely."

 

Bruce considered this. “That doesn't absolve Walker. Or Fiasco."

 

“No," Needham agreed, staring into the cup distractedly. "Still, I had to let them go. I have faith that if they can just put the pieces together, maybe find a way to neutralise Krill, then perhaps-"

 

"That's not on them, Eric. And it's not on you either."

 

"But Batman, listen-"

 

"No. If there is a conspiracy at large, I'll look into it myself, but I need you focused on the False Facers. Word is that Henry Ferris, Iron-Hat, is back in Gotham, operating under Sionis' orders and I need to know why. There's a gang war brewing here; one our new mayor will undoubtedly profit from."

 

"Batman-"

 

"That's an order, Spider."

 

Needham obliged, and rose to his feet, walking towards his parked motorcycle. Turning his head back to Bruce, he spoke. “Do you know why Walker's gotten to you? Because you believed in him. Because you had to. After Dent, and Hush, you desperately needed to believe in redemption; real, honest redemption. But, the truth is, it doesn't exist. Because people... people are ugly and messy. But that doesn't mean you stop trying; It was your faith in me that kept me going and it's my faith in them that's going to save the Misfits."

 

==Arkham Asylum==

 

When The Joker had first taken over the Asylum, Jeremiah Arkham had himself been taken prisoner; in the subsequent weeks, he would become an outlet for the clown's musings and sadistic habits. With Day forging documents on his behalf and Zolomon dealing with the odd trespasser, few had even noticed Arkham was missing. And so long as Billings' illusion held, the Asylum would appear to outsiders as it always had; A dark blemish in the Gotham skyline. All except for one man, who watched the building vigilantly, a gun in his hand, scanning the windows for any sign of movement, any hint at the horrors hidden behind its grim facade.

 

Making himself at home in the doctor's study, the clown had been quick to dismantle his trophies, vandalise his artwork and incinerate his paperwork. "Tut tut tut, a lot of ABBA. You like ABBA, Jerry?" he asked mockingly, as he rifled through Arkham's rather pitiful record collection. "Mama Mia, here we go again..." he muttered under his breath.

 

His concentration, was disrupted by the sudden crashing of the door, as a black suited man barged into the room; the watcher from outside, who aimed a silver pistol between the clown's soulless eyes, and without a moment's hesitation, pulled the trigger. Before it could reach its target however, the bullet was intercepted by Zoom's gloved hand, who held it between his fingers, mere inches from the clown's face. The breeze from Zoom's arrival had knocked the intruder backwards, separating him from his weapons as he landed at Joker's feet.

 

"Huh," the clown frowned, an ABBA record still in his hand. "You, sir, look more like a Nirvana fan. You even smell like Teen Spirit to boot. Pwhoar!"

 

"Youuuuuuuu saaaaaaaaid wewouldbe secure," Zolomon hissed, as he watched the man curiously.

 

"Uhuh; almost, Hunter. I said almost," the clown corrected him, as he knelt down beside the intruder. "Always read the terms and conditions. You know, I'm slowly beginning to understand what it's like being an Arkham guard... Revolving door indeed... Eraser, isn't it?" he asked. "Awfully hard to keep track of your lot, you know. You multiply like rabbits."

 

Fiasco snarled. "Go to hell."

 

"Already been and already barred! It's overrated anyhow and not at all like the brochure," Joker replied.

 

"Hooooowwwwwwwdid yoooooou find uuuuuus?" Zoom demanded, as he pulled their new prisoner to his feet. Fiasco, stared back at him in utter incomprehension.

 

"He's asking how you found us, sweetie," Joker said flatly. "In English, Hunter, please."

 

Fiasco scoffed bitterly. "It wasn't hard; you're all far too sentimental; Day used Arkham as a staging ground in his last big attack. And I knew Crane wouldn't resist getting another shot at revenge neither. Factor in some poetic symmetry, that this was where Drury killed Larson that first time, and boom. Kinda obvious, really."

 

"Touché..." Joker smirked. "Though I think you'll find it's Carson."

 

"Daaaaay called him Barson," Zolomon intruded.

 

"I think you'll find that I don't care either way," Fiasco shot back at them both.

 

"Oh my, he's a rather sharp witted pencil, isn't he? Adorable," Joker remarked to an unimpressed Zoom. "It's almost a shame that he's been putting threads together. Ones that we simply can not allow to get out... Oh, well."

 

"Oh, please," Fiasco spat, still struggling in Zoom's grip, "If I know, it's only a matter of time before the Bat does too."

 

Joker laughed. "Batsy, yes... Now there's an ever present pain in my abdomen; or perhaps that's the appendicitis again... Still, we've got a contingency for that. You've met Spellbinder, wonderful houseguest. Heavy drinker... A real pity, that."

 

He snapped his fingers, and Billings limped into the room, his eyes widening as they made contact with Fiasco's. "How did you-?" he began, sweating nervously.

 

"Well, isn't that the question of the hour!" Joker glared maliciously. "I didn't clothe you, feed you and spring you from Blackgate just for some faulty hardware. Imagine if it failed for Batsy, or Drubert, heaven forbid!"

 

Billings swallowed, avoiding the clown's eyeline. "As I... tried to explain, the illusion holds for long as those affected continue to accept it as their reality. Once rejected or dismissed, however, the illusion loses its hold on the mind and simply... fades away. Like a mirage in the desert."

 

"Then whatdowe dooooooowith him?" Zoom inquired, glaring at Fiasco, his arm still wrapped around his neck.

 

Joker smiled. "Keep 'im. I want to have a spare for when Arkham dies."

 

~-~

 

Days passed, and still, Fiasco remained The Joker's prisoner. Following a lead from Mr Freeze, Batman had come and gone, with the clown's cabal believing he'd found nothing of note during his brief visit; Fiasco himself had been moved to Crane's old cell.

Meanwhile, in the study, the clown was firing arrows blindly. Strapped to a chair, squirming as each misfire drew closer to his skull, was Jeremiah Arkham, an apple laid atop his sweaty head. About half the arrows had rubber tips; Harmless; The rest, had recently been sharpened. Joker stuck his tongue out, in a display of faux determination and fired his next arrow. "Now, I know you're just a side project, but I can't help but think we've developed a real bond here! And I don't just mean the ropes and zip-ties."

 

"The Caaaaaaaaalendar Maaaaaan has returned," Zolomon announced, speeding into the room.

 

Joker turned his head, put his bow on the ground and winked at Arkham. "Goody, send him in. You- don't go anywhere: Can't be far from a nervous breakdown now, huh, Jerry?" he chuckled as strutted over to his captive and took a bite of the apple, spewing chunks into Arkham's hair as he spoke. "Clearly, the apple doesn't fall all that far from the tree. Hah!"

 

"I know about Fiasco, Joker," Day stormed into the room. "We had an arrangement; The Misfits were mine."

 

"Yes, an arrangement that was null and void the second that little stripey son of a tree pointed a gun in my face," Joker rolled his eyes. "He's not harmed. Much."

 

"I trusted you-" Day spluttered.

 

Joker shrugged. "Eh. You really shouldn't have."

 

Zoom put himself in-between Joker and Day, placing a hand around the latter's arm. "Enough. Weeeeeeee mussssssssstfind Walker," he insisted. "The Erasaaaaaaaaaser knows Waaaaaaalker. Sohe must bemadeto taaaaaaalk."

 

"No need," Day replied plainly. "Abner has a lead."

 

=Tompkins Homeless Shelter. Gotham=

 

Behind his iron mask, Ferris' nose wrinkled; This was not where he had wanted to meet. He, would've preferred the Iceberg Lounge, even that Olympus bar, run by that delusional Zeus character would be preferable; Provided he'd put a shirt on, that is.

Instead, he was stuck here; in a venue almost certainly chosen to make him as uncomfortable as possible.

 

The door chimed as a white suited figure entered the building and greeted Ferris. "Hey, don't I know you from somewhere? Maybe an old Hitler Youth ad?" he joked.

 

Ferris tilted his head upwards. "Krill," he said coldly.

 

"Adolf," the spotted man smiled snidely.

"Hope you don't mind," he elaborated, as he slid into the chair opposite him. "But the gay bar down the street's closed, and that feminist rally has been rescheduled."

 

"Sure," Ferris said stiffly.

 

"Don't worry, you're safe here; free food, doctor/patient confidentiality, the works. Oh, over here, love," Krill called out, as the server, a young Vietnamese woman, placed two hot bowls of noodle soup between them. Krill winked at her, then slurped down the mixture hungrily. Ferris looked back at him, the mask failing to hide the disgust emanating from his body.

 

"Ordered in advance," Krill slurped, as his free hand waved his phone at Ferris. "Not a problem for you, I'm sure."

 

"Of course not," Ferris lied, as he watched Krill spoon several clumps of wet noodles into his mouth. "You're a hard man to get a hold of."

 

Krill raised a warning finger. "And with good reason; I've only ever accepted serious and/or rich clients. Well, and you, I suppose. Might I just say that helmet really brings out your eyes? That is a very deep shade of blue," Krill teased. "Now, you said you had something for me?"

 

"Correct," Ferris said. "I'd heard you were looking for those... bug boys, Misfits, whatever you wanna call 'em, doesn't matter... About a week ago, I overheard the chi-"

 

At this, Krill cringed. "Oho, wow. Oh, wow, you're doing a hardcore racist thing- classy. Real high brow," he recoiled.

 

"Fine," Ferris hissed reluctantly. "I overheard Bookworm mention a school to Sionis. Greendale. Didn't think much of it, until one of my contacts said they spotted Lynns and the ni- Firebug" he breathed in heavily, "In the city center scoffing down ice cream and swinging their swords around."

 

Krill paused."That's not a homophobic euphemism is it-?" he queried.

 

"No," Ferris growled, his patience growing thinner.

 

"Just checking!" Krill shrugged passively. "Still, worth a look. Greendale, did you say? Neato..."

 

As Krill rose to his feet, he turned back to Ferris, his lip curled. "What is it?" Ferris demanded.

 

"Y'know, normally, I wouldn't care, but you've piqued my interest... What exactly do you get out of this? If it were Franco, sure, I'd understand, but you? I mean, let's say Sionis got wind of this-"

 

"Well he's not going to, is he?" Ferris challenged him. Beneath his mask, he smiled as he repeated Franco's own mantra; "The wind's changing, Mr Krill. From what I hear, there's going to be a change in management very soon; I'm just making sure I'm on their side when it comes. And Sionis? Well, Sionis can't exactly weld another mask to my face, can he?"

 

"No," Krill conceded, a coy smile on his face. "But you can't exactly rule out a codpiece either."

Done