The Death of the Joker!

February 20, 2016:

Daredevil and Joker come to blows and ONE OF THEM WILL NOT SURVIVE.

Ace Chemicals

Chemical plant with toxins and what not.


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

Gotham, The Black pearl, the rotten apple, a city almost synonymous with corruption, and the fall from grace. Massive winding spires of concrete and steel twist themselves through dense cloud-cover on a blackened night. Sheets of rain crashing down the sides of this screaming metal goliaths like a forest of metal waterfalls.

Thunder crashes out through these mountains of the city lightening illuminating the pitch blackness of an almost unnaturally oppressive and dark night. Trashcan fires burn out in the darkness surrounded by huddled and worried transients simply trying to keep warm as the mix of sleet and rain assaults exposed skin. Some try to hide under doorways others old abandoned cars yet to be taken away by the city. A sense of desperation and hopelessness all encompassing wherever one looks.

And in the center of it all looms a looming neon sign, flickering out in the blackness of the night "Ace Chemicals" A large playing card flickers in and out of sight as the spotlights of the display struggle to hold on nearing their lives end. The employees had long since already headed home, traveling back to their squalor leaving behind the walls of this fortress behind. Yet the lights are still on, and a number of cars remain in the parking lot.

Inside the building me in thick clown masks and simple clothing rush about the facility. Massive tubes are hooked to the bottoms of large drums of highly dangerous mixed chemicals the left overs, pure hazmat unsafe for anything but disposal being loaded into massive tanker trucks. Watching over it all a rather stern looking man with blonde hair, white face-paint, and a Glasgow grin carved into his unsmiling face.

Rain nor darkness bother the Daredevil much. In fact, they actually tend to assist him.

Matt Murdock was here on business; the young lawyer comes to Gotham often given that he has passed the Bar exam in the Garden State and heavens knows that there is more business here than in almost any other city in the United States. Even Oakland.

While out to lunch earlier in the day one of the cronies had made the mistake of whispering details about tonight's event within 120 yards of Matthew as he enjoyed his chicken sandwich on a brioche bun. Murdock never leaves home without his suit. Well, his other suit.

The red clad Man Without Fear slinks along the wall silently, reaching out with his senses and attempting to get a better bearing of what's going on before he shows himself. Surprise is the best option and once you've lost it it's gone forever.

"Ah, there you are." The clown says with a smile, as a beaten battered and bruised man is brought up to him. It's one of the men from the lunch meeting, or rather what's left of him. He leans down towards the drug man and just puts on a look of surprise. "Oh what did they do to you?" Shhhing him with a single finger. "Don't worry, it's alright… it's alright." As he bring the battered and broken man in for a hug, before snapping his neck.

The men on either side wearing their clown masks take a pause almost dropping the body completely, as The Joker lets out a laugh, with a bit of a smile. "Just can't get good help these days can we?" Before turning on the balls of his heels. The two goons simply throwing the body over the side of the railing.

Down on the ground floor goons are doing their best to work fast, and ignore that sudden tell tall SPLOOSH of a body hitting the chemical mix. The sounds of the pumps fill the air as the water level int he tanks lowers slowly but surely the sloshing of tanks as the six trucks are already being filled with their new pay load. "Gentlemen work a little faster for me, city hall won't just blow itself up."

"You're going to pay for that, Joker," Daredevil says as he emerges from the shadows. Inwardly he's cursing at himself and his precaution. Would he have been able to save that man? Likely. Still half shrouded by shadows, a white billy club is still plainly visible in his hand. "We can do this the hard way. We can do this the easy way. It makes no difference to me."

"Ah Daredevil," Joker putting his arms to either side that green vest of his moving and almost unbuttoning itself. "You got me, come on boys, let's turn ourselves in." His hands going out in-front of himself as if ready to turn himself in. A few steps closer before he takes a pause.

Down below the men in their clown mask begin drawing pistols and rifles, firing blind in the direction of that man in red. The two who'd just dropped the body fumbling for their own side arms. "Sorry, guess they don't speak english." Laughing as the bullets begin to fly wild hitting pipes and the glass, shards already cascading down onto the ground bellow. Several of the men in the process wind up either shot in the back by their own people or impaled by the glass all while the clown prince laughs and goes for his own gun.

Daredevil floats through the haze with a serpentine grace, almost as though he can predict where the bullets are going to go before they hit. By that time, he's far gone of course, weaving and ducking. When the Joker goes for his gun, the white end of the billy club zings out towards the villain's hand, attempting to jar the firearm loose.

The whizz of bullets through the air the rainfall from over head as the various skylights smash dropping shards of razor sharp glass down onto everyone's heads. There's a sudden crack of lightening as billy club hits hand sending the gun flying from Jokers grasp as he sends a switch blade right for that spot between the third and fourth ribs of Daredevil. He doesn't have time for pain and suffering of the moment as his hand stings like hell. A single round from the pistol flying off wild and hitting his crony right through the head.

Daredevil is able to just get out of the way of what would have been a fatal gut attack. The glancing blow, however, does spray blood and there is an immediate cry from the vigilante as the knife pierces his suit and sort of hangs there. Gritting his teeth and writing himself, while mentally putting the pain to the side, Daredevil pulls the knife out from his side and bears his teeth at the Joker. From there, it's full on bum rush!

The sound of thunder, of bullets, of screams, the smell of gunpowder, death and noxious fumes. It's all happening so fast, that most would miss the sound created by a few loose connections on the scaffolding of the massive catwalk. That broad smile crossing his face as the clown prince runs right back to meet Daredevil. The two make contact in the middle.

There's an epic crunch not too dissimilar to when a linebacker and a running back meet, only the people are smaller, in strange outfits, and one of them wears a bit of makeup. In any event, the blow is a glancing one, sending Daredevil off to the side a bit, and up against one of the guard rails that looks bent and weak. He's able to get back up quickly, however, and brings the billy club down towards the Joker's head!

Slam in the middle, another flash of lightening as the water from above hits the old dis-repaired catwalk. A loud CRACK in time with the thunder as Daredevil goes in for that smash with the billy club as the entire catwalk suddenly shakes that one screw snapping in two, and letting the cable pop. Billyclub hits metal railing, and another one pops.

The entire section of catwalk suddenly shakes and wobbles under the weight and strain sending the corpse falling into the mix, followed by other thug. Joker grabs for the hanging cable as the entire thing begins to fall, just barely making the grab. That second thug trying his best to hold on for dear life jokers switch blade and the mans own pistol falling into the mix as the corpse is melted away.

Daredevil's billy club now heads up towards the catwalks and desperately grabs hold. He dangles there, swaying back and forth, careful at first to get his grip and make sure he's not going to fall. From there, he sets about trying to save the thug and the Joker's life. "It won't hold much longer," he says.

"Then let's cut some of the dead weight." Joker comments before he begins kicking at his own thug. Doing his best just to make the man fall so there's less weight on the actual platform. The man screams out "j-j-joker c-come on man, I got a wife an-" But the joker just keeps kicking there, until the thug loses his grip instead grabbing onto the jokers shoe.

"No!" Daredevil exclaims as the man falls. Daredevil has no chance to get him, unfortunately. Everything drops at the same rate, after all, and falling into the toxin would be suicide. "You monster!" he spits out, down towards the Joker.

"Flattery." Joker says kicking off his shoe, and letting the masked man fall into the waste. "Will get you everywhere." Starting to climb his way back up the cable as the connection to the ceiling starts to creak and give the gunshots at least having stopped, but now there's nothing to cover over that maniacal laugh as he comes closer. "Now let's put a SMILE on that masked face of yours."

Daredevil is caught between his desire to save a life, and in knowing that in doing so it may involve his own demise. As the Joker moves closer, he begins to swing his leg in a desperate attempt to try and 'kick' Joker out farther than the vat of toxin sits. It's the best he can come up with in such a terrible situation.

One kick. That's all it takes.

The cable snaps, the jokers hands going out to his sides as that moment of realization hits. Everything seemingly in slow motion as he just starts to laugh. He laughs the entire way down that broad smile on his face almost enough to rip it in two as he makes splashdown on the side of the vat. That neon green goo suddenly soaring into the air as he slams into it.

He's still laughing even as it starts to fill his lungs, goons running to the side of the tank. They've dropped their hoses their guns and their plans and now they're just focused on trying to save the boss. Even as the laughter turns to gurgling in the middle of that vat, the bubbles still raising to the surface, a single joker playing card floating along the top of it.

The catwalk that Daredevil is hanging from now begins to give way. It breaks up at the top where it connects to the wall, and thus he begins to slide downward and away from the vat. He finally falls to the ground and searches for a way to get to the vat, but the gunfire has ignited some of the hazardous chemicals and the flames block any potential route for him to go. It seems the Joker is truly dead.

Flames are spreading fast, towards the trucks. One on the far end goes up in a sudden massive fireball starting a chain reaction that sends goons flying. All hell breaks loos as people run screaming from the trucks rolling around the ground simply trying to put the fire out. The storm overhead is in full force as lightning strikes the vat, causing the chemicals to begin to pour out dousing the screaming flaming thugs in acidic chemicles.

Everything here is suddenly devolved into pure anarchy the exact funeral the Joker would have wanted. Except perhaps with a few more innocents then his own men. All these smells and sounds mixing together into the sort of experience one would be hard pressed to find outside of the Vietnam War, as people cry for their families for the pain to stop.

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