Happy Death Day To You!

February 25, 2016:

The Joker lures Red Hood into a trap. Hijinks ensue.

South Hook, Gotham

The southern most point of Gotham is South Hook; also called Tricorner Island. It is a triangular shaped island that is home to the Tricorner Naval Yard (which was decommissioned by the Navy in the 70s). The shipbuilding industry was massive here once and South Hook was a monolith amongst the Eastern shoes of the United States in the industry for fishing, commerce, transportation and marine-based activity.

It's still a rather powerful force of economy but many accidental fires, poor building planning and overpopulation has left it's stain upon the Dockside District. It's still, however, a major port with many housing and working sections stretched out along the massive triangle shaped isle. The entire island itself is dotted with smaller islands, small naval yards, docks, warfs and fishing businesses that thrive and work alongside the port, Gotham Harbor and major facilities that call Tricorner Island home.

After the corruption was bled out of South Hook it's also home to many communities and perhaps some of the largest concentration of GCPD residential houses. Even former Commissioner James Gordon has a home on South Hook.


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

Joker had laid out the entire plan from the ground up, over the course of these few nights since his little incident. The dull grey nights sky hanging overhead carried with it the smells of dead fish, rust and decay, along with the ever-present hum of machinery. Thick rainclouds in the distant lit up with the occasional flash of lightening backed by the crash of thunderous applause.

The stage was set, an old warehouse on the hill more recently rebuilt, its windows cracked and broken covered over with dust built from the ground only to be abandoned once more.

Out the front entrance a solitary bum waits warming his hands, just trying to enjoy the long night ahead of him. Occasionally men head in or out of the warehouse dressed in simple movers uniforms, dressed down as they haul their boxes in and out. A single moving truck planted near the entrance for the unloading. Word having accidentally traveled fast right to the ears of the Red Hood.

Red Hood tends to stay out of Gotham as much as possible for very understandable reasons. Sometimes, however, he decides something is worth trekking to his old Hometown to see to. He'd usually just let the Bats handle things there, but sometimes he prefers to get the one-up on them…show them that they aren't the only ones who have certain talents.
Sometimes, however, he also likes to be involved in certain hyijinks that they would otherwise like to stop. This may be one of the latter…at least, it was of enough interest for him to come all the way out to Gotham to observe.
Like most Gotham-trained vigilantes, he's staked out a shadowy spot close enough for observation but far enough away that he shouldn't immediately be spotted. Binoculars are used to survey the area.

Unlike most Gotham-trained vigilantes, he is heavily armed with firearms.

The odd looking truck seems to belong to the Red Robin food chain, with that garish logo across the side. Yet as people wheel out their goods it becomes clear these aren't simple condiments, the large canisters requiring great force to move. These simply dressed doc workers taking their time to get the entire thing unloaded and into the warehouse.

The storm is slowly growing closer a single flash of lightning illuminating the scene for just a moment the shadows of various buildings lighting together to form garrish grin. As if the building itself were in the mouth of madness. The lights fading away as a figure clad in bright purple and green makes his way into the building from the truck.

The binoculars are slowly lowered when he catches sight of the man dressed in purple and green. He doesn't know anyone else who chooses those colors together on purpose…yet…there's something different. Could it be a Copycat? A distraction? A Rave?

With a litle more care than usual, Red Hood makes his way closer to the warehouse and the truck itself, as if he could look in and see what the cannisters might be holding. Maybe it is some sort of Rave? He wouldn't put it past Gothamites to be so sick in the head. Holding a pistol in each hand, he stealths about, trying to get a few more answers to the questions that just keep piling up in regards this scenario. However, one thing blazes in the forefront of his mind:

This is a trap.

Venom, an entire truck filled with canisters of the stuff. Must be a few million dollars worth of the sweet sickly green drug inside of these canisters with the current going rate. The henchmen still loading them into the warehouse as if it were nothing, just the tailcoat of that purple jacket visible as the wearer vanishes into the building proper.

The men holding the canisters look to be rather buff with their simple uniforms. Each of them doing their best to blend in only making them stick out even more then if they'd just gone in their usual wifebeaters and jeans. Last of the canisters is offloaded from the truck, one of the men staying behind to close up shop so they can head back off.

While he could just kill the men, there is obviously bigger fish to go after here. Red Hood takes a moment, as he darts by the truck, to place a tracker on it before he slips inside the warehouse. He does his best to keep to the shadows, but every fiber is on alert and his trigger finger is at the ready to pretty much start shooting.

Traps aren't unknown and if he's ready for one he won't be surprised, right?

Soon as that foot sets place inside of the building there's a chain reaction of flood-lights. One two three eight in all from different directions filling the room with a blinding white light that obscures all vision for just a moment before the feature in the center of it all, comes into view. It's a large cake, with joker beating Jason on the top of it. A large banner over-top of it proclaiming "Happy death-day!" In colorful childlike letters. Instead of candles there are various crowbars sticking out the surface of this massive cake surrounded by those canisters. The sounds of a party popper going off following soon behind.

The flare-compensation in Red Hood's helmet kicks in as the floodlights blast on and both guns are raised, poised to fire.

The Helmet itself is nearly featureless…for a reason…and it remains so even as it slowly turns to take in the sight before him. His posture doesn't relax and he's taking slow, centering breaths to not get worked up over what he's seeing.

It's been a while and Jason's grown up. A little. At least, he thinks he has.

The real question is, though…how did he know where to find him?

Bits of confetti slowly drift their way down from the ceiling as men on catwalks running either side of the large warehouse dressed in full mourners attire save for garish masks of various members of the bat family blow on kazoo's and pop party poppers. Their cold dead faces curled up into overemphasized smiles as they look down from on high celebrating.

A slow winding noise ringing out as a large patchwork canvas descends from the ceiling, sounds of a projector winding to life, as images begin to display across its surface. It's a slide show backing the cake, various pictures of the Joker, and Jason in his costume, a crowbar, and the viscous beating. Also thrown in are images of the explosives used, of the joker in costume smiling beside an unconscious masked Jason, taking a selfie with a crowbar in one hand, arm around the dying boy.

"Ahh memories." The voice echoes out from seemingly every angle at once, taking in a deep breath of air, a nostalgic tinge to every word. "It's enough to bring a tear to an old sinners eye." Genuine and friendly in its tone as the images go from mostly harmless to more and more graphic behind the cake, the arm of the cake sculpture at the top swinging down over and over onto the downed Jason on display. That all too familiar laugh ringing out soon after. "Hard to believe it's been so long already hasn't it? Seems like just yesterday you were laying there crying for the Batman and your mommy, bleeding out while I took a crowbar to your face."

The clowns voice turns almost condecending as he carries on. "But he never came, did he?" A bit of mock sadness to his voice, before he throws in a bit more laughter. "Left you to die like a box of puppies thrown over a bridge."

The guns are slowly lowered as the images flicker across the screen and the familiar voice rings out. Red Hood's breath is even, slow…almost meditative as he calls on something within to remain calm and level-headed. It's not an easy task at the moment. There are a few silent moments as he seems to be watching everything go on, although that could just be a feature of the Hood itself.

"What makes you think this has anything to do with me?" is finally asked, his own voice obscured some by a voice modulator within the helmet itself. "Although the cake looks pretty good. You get those Cake Bosses in Jersey to make it up for you?"

"I've been following your progress, Hoodie." The voice calls out a bit more calm then before, as somewhere joker leans on the table speaking into the intercom. That sly smile creeping its way across his face as he watches through the cameras, the corpse of the previous security guard still propped up in the corner of the room with a massive smile on his face ear to ear. Still splayed out where he'd tried to make a break for the door earlier in the evening.

"Grown into quite the little psycopath haven't you?" A low tsk tsk tsk echoing out over the intercom the expression on his face as he watches still filled with absolute glee. "I couldn't be more proud, you're like the redheaded stepchild finally grown into the serial killer I always knew you'd be with enough abuse."

Red Hood's eyes turn to note the location of the goons on the catwalks even as he tries to locate the source of the voice. "You must be bored out of your mind if you've been following me," is offered, his breathing still calm and measured. He doesn't try to hide with the flood lights and everyone about. There's no need.

"That's an interesting name to be calling me…considering you're a guy named after the cards that get discarded in a deck and your nemesis is another guy who dresses up like a freaking bat. Pot. Kettle. That's all I'm saying."

At the mention of him being a serial killer, his mouth presses into a line behind the helmet and his voice might get a little lower in tone to almost a growl, "What do you want, Joker." It's not a question. "I don't have time for games and neither do your boys here…" even though he knows that their lives aren't worth anything to the villain.

Joker laughs, and laughs, and laughs for a few moments. The entire crew of clowns in their masks joining in as they begin to put away their party favors and move towards the stairs leading down. "You know hoodie, I did all of this for you, as thanks." A slight pause as they slowly begin to draw their weapons. "Let's not beat around the bush I've brought you a nice fresh batch of vict- er I mean henchmen to valiantly bring to justice. So how about you prove me right and kill a few huh babycakes?"

"You've got the wrong masked vigilante for that, Joker," Jason actually smiles himself behind his masked helmet. "I don't bring people to justice. I kill them, if they deserve it, or I screw them over. If you want them brought in for some reason or another," he gives a nonchalant weave f his hand, "I suggest you contact one of the Bats. I hear they have this great spotlight on top of the Police Department building you can use to summon them."

He notes where the men are coming from, where the apparent exits are, and what weapons they might be toting. "I would suggest clearing out pretty soon though. I mean, just in case a text happened to have been sent to one of the Bats about the fact that you and these…vic-henchman," he mimics the Joker, "…are here."

"Aww, now don't be a spoil-sport, Hoodie." A few of the masked men look towards each-other pausing for a moment, rethinking their life choices before charging right down the stairs in the direction of the hood. Each of them holding a different multicolored crowbar, their black suit and ties not exactly proving the best for running as a few manage to fall to the floor.

There's only about two dozen men and women in all in the group and out of them there are at least four who seem intent on leaving. Even as the joker laughs and laughs his way through the intercom, the lights of the room changing in color to a more party appropriate theme. Some rather quite catchy 'combat' music filling the air as a few bullets fire from the balcony, a group of about six scantily clad women jumping out of the cake with AK47's.

Of course, as this is Red Hood, the very fact that the Joker (or anyone) wants him to do something, he's going to do the complete opposite. Grabbing two of the crowbars from the cake, he swings at one of the AK47's to try and knock it away from the girl who was holding it.
He fought a knight in Central Park with a sword, he can do this with crowbars. "Give it up," he calls to the henchmen, "And get out of here before he blows you all up!"

Barbie Girl blares loud and proud over all the intercoms making talk somewhat difficult as the crowbar is ripped fresh from the hand of a Robin mask wearing woman who had been trying to bash his head in with it. The crowbar smashing into the AK sending the weapon flying off to one side smacking into the wall. The nerf rounds that come out managing to slam right into the wall. The rounds find themselves completely stuck into the wall by razer blades shoved into the ends of them, the five others firing off their AK's with that tell tale fwoomp fwoomp fwoomp of an automatic nerf gun.

Swarming down full force they pile on in droves doing anything they can just to try and slaughter the man in his red hood. From the looks their crowbars seem to be doing not very much if anything to the man, almost as if they were simple toys made of plastic. Cake falls all over the ground as the animatronic joker and Jason fall to the ground threatening to crush two men in Bat-girl masks.

Nerf guns with razor blades. That's original, at least, Red Hood will give him that. Of course, as the plastic crowbars seem to do nothing but bounce off of him as they hit and the razor blades won't do much more, he knows what to do. Another tracker is stuck to a cake-streaked wall even as he weaves and dodges his way back towards the exit.

"Good luck with your death wish," is offered to the nearest henchmen, the volume turned up on the helmet to try and carry over the loud dance music.

Red Hood may be a vigilante who kills, but he's not going to give the Joker any satisfaction of a death by his guns today.

Soon as Jason is out of the range of their crowbars the men and women pull out simple looking paintball guns. A hail of them are fired off in his direction splattering the ground and the walls with the mix of multicolored acid. The mixture begining to already melt through the walls where it had hit.

Two of the goons find themselves crushed down to the ground pinned by the joker statue still swinging its own crowbar slowly up and down. The dark black red and yellow cake now a complete mess. Frosting covering the walls ceiling and floor, and getting even further around as they try their best to kill him with their weapons.

In the control room joker dances round in circles with the corpse of the security guard to the music. His fingers reach down to the control panel to turn the music up slightly, as he just dances there, watching the feed on his cameras. "Come on now Hoodie, it breaks my heart just to see you using so much restraint. Live a little, break some eggs, I know you want to."

Red Hood picked up a few things from the Bats and while the acid might eat through his outer clothes, he's still wearing kevlar beneath…standard costume fare when coming into Gotham. He knows the kooks that like to mess up the city all too well.

The taunt finally has him pausing and pulling out one of his guns. It's swung around as if to aim at those trying to follow him, but the barrel aims at the window to the Security Office. Maybe he's there, maybe he's not, but either way, "You wanted a broken egg? How about your's?"

Shots are then fired at the glass before he continues his exit.

Glass shatters large shards of glass crashing through to the other side, massive shards going everywhere. Inside of the office Joker had been dancing with the corpse, and now managed to use it as a human shield to catch the glass. "Ahh I had such high hopes Hoodie. Such high hopes." A slight sigh from him as he kicks the corpse out the window and slams a button on the controls a quiet ticking coming on over the intercom mixing in with the music like a metronome before the joker runs right off through the back door to the room.

His face looks completely different then the last time the two had fought. Gone is the glasgow grin the cheap painted on makeup and blonde hair. In its place a pure white as the driven snow skin, blood red lips and hair so green one would have trouble dyeing it to match. The eyes almost glowing with that same inhuman green. With ten seconds on the clock, he simply starts running. The clown prince vanishing seemingly in a puff of smoke after one last laugh. The door slammed behind him.

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