Happy Unbirthday!

February 23, 2017:

Joker welcomes his special new creation to the world - an Inhuman!

Madame Mooovary Frozen Confections - Gotham

Ice Cream Everywhere and not a drop to eat!


NPCs: None.


Mood Music: None.

Fade In…

Four days. Joker did his reasearch. He's learned that most cocoons hatch within four days of being infected. The mad scientist of mayhem hoped to had prolonged that, but he knows that time it fleeting. Ordering out his henchmen on guard duty, the pale jester paced through the vats towards the cocoons. Only one of them was showing activity. The other, well, the poor sod within just couldn't handle the Joker's special sauce. It takes a special kind of crazy for that.

He knows of the woman within. He did his research, checked files. A little rifling through her purse told him all he really needed to know. An outfit has been set out for her. Along with a lab coat, because he's pretty sure the girl's going to not have anything suitable to wear when she emerges. And for now? He takes out a container of popcorn, sits backwards in a chair, and pops a few kernels in his mouth to chew on, eyes lit up in excitement.


The surface of the cocoon is green.

Not that the others aren't; they have a pleasant enough aqua blue-green color, reticulated in large patterns that, if they weren't so eerie, might make one think of a fabrige egg. Well more like someone's paper mache Easter project from first grade that didn't turn out quite so nicely.

This one however is a more sickly green, an unnatural green; the chemical stew has had a marked and visible effect, with the reticulation chartreuse and the stained glass fragments between nearly neon in color.

It starts to move, rocking slightly. The precious little fledgling inside is beginning to efforts into escape. The top of the egg-shaped mass bubbles like microwaved plastic, popping and splitting. It won't be long now.
"Woohoo! Just like Aliens. The chestburster special!" Joker says towards Bud, the hyena turning it's head curiously at the green-haired man and yips his thoughts. "Oh, what do you know. She's not going to latch to my face."

"At least not until she has a shower. Four days in there, ewwww, that's a stank!" he says with a laugh as he pops in some more bubbling and splitting. As the liquid pours out, it spills into the vat beneath her, mixing with the failed experiment that he threw in there several days ago. Mary's the secret ingredient!

Or the pistashio. He's not sure which.


The cocoon shreds open down the center, bursting open with a splatter of unhealthy green everywhere; a body falls forward, landing on hands a knees, head down. Liquid pools out of the pod slowly all around.

She's pale as the full moon, skin bleached white. Long hair alternates different hues of green throughout, plastered against back and front and arms by fluid. She coughs wetly, and gasps in deeply for air.

She looks up.

Neon orange irises stare out from behind green bangs, green and black lips. Pupils narrow into thin black eyes, x-shaped.

She -screams-.

Leaning back in his seat, Joker woots his approval and howls at her scream. "That's how you make an entrance!" he says to Bud and Lou as they run off to hide under a table to stare at the nude and pale figure before him. "A little too American Werewolf in London, but goodness, you do make pale white look good!"

Moving forward, he grabs the labcoat to settle over the woman, hiding what modesty she totally doesn't have. "Welcome to Gotham, my little mutate! Did you know you were a mutate? An inhuman? It's like winning the Genetics Suck lottery. Phenominal powers, all the prejudices and by the way?" he hoos.

"The air here? Pretty damn nasty to you. But I have just the thing!" he says, moving to set a rebreathing mask over the bottom half of her face. "Inhale." he coaxes. "And don't worry, I hosed out the stink of the last person to use it."

She's stunned, almost catatonic, trembling faintly. The words reach her ears and sink in, but process slowly. Right now she's overwhelmed with what her eyes are seeing, what her mind doesn't have concepts to comprehend.

Her hands shake as she touches the rebreather, letting it sit, breathing through it. There's a very soft hiss-pop as the air filters in and out. The labcoat takes the chill out of the air, off her wet body.

"… the colors," she gasps. "… there are more… more colors than colors… " She suddenly jerks her head over to the left, eyes widening, staring at something invisible. "— what? What are those? What is THAT?"
Joker claps his hands. "You see them too? Excellent!" he says. Does he know what she's looking at? Not a clue. But noone out crazies crazy. She's covered. She's warming. And she's breathing. He looks her over, making sure she doesn't have tentacles growing out of her hoo-hah or anything else besides the crazy skin, hair and eyes that would give her away. Joker's daughter, indeed.

"Soooo. Tell Uncle Joker. Do you know who you are? Where you are? Because this, my dear, is the Palace of Dreams, and you have just made mine come true!"

She swallows audibly and stares at the walls. "I— I don't know," she murmurs. "I don't know where I am. I don't know who I am. It's hard to remember…" Trailing off, she blinks and shakes her head, closing her eyes, bringing a hand up to cover her eyes.

"… No good. I can see through my eyelids. I can see through my hand. I can see through the floor." She takes several deep breaths, and tries to calm herself. She doesn't know why this seems like the right thing to do, but it is. "Deep breaths. Center. Calm. Find your center…"

"Aha!" Joker says, and waves a hand in front of her face. "Do you see the bones or the skin?" he asks curiously as he considers her. "Maybe that's your secret power!" he says with a laugh. "Isn't that a kick in the pants when you try to sleep." he offers to her a she settles his arm around her shoulder, half a hug offered to his mad creation.

"That could be the chemicals. Could be the Mists. Maybe you're just as crazy as everyone else in Gotham!"

"Power?" The question is asked innocently, and then the realization follows. Something's happened to her, and that's why she's seeing things that should not be possible to see.

She's fallen back on her training without realizing it, going over calming and observation techniques. Someone taught her this. A face passes through her mind, blurry, a familiar shape, but no name comes with it. It was an important shape. She mentally reminds herself to return to that shape.

Questions come after. "I… I can see bones and skin. There are bright spots all over, rings and ripples and lines of flowing light. It's all so much at once-!" She shuts her eyes to no avail. "… Is that… I can see the electricity in the walls!" There's a struggle to make sense of it, and she's wrestling hard to try to get it under control.

"Mists?" she asks weakly. "There were … there was a party…"

"Ayup. Big ole rave. And you, my dear, were extravagant. And then a wind came in and took those Mists in from Metropolis. Those Mists, they do the most looney things! They turn you all into something else. Something that people fear and hate. Not me, though! I wanted to help, so I scooped you up and brought you here!" Joker says with a wide smile as he steps away from the woman and gives a little skip to his step as he offers her a basic uniform. "This will fit you until you find a style that's all your own!" he offers to her.

Leaning in, pale skin brushes against pale skin. "Now remember, they'll hurt you if they catch you. They'll do allll types of things to you. I can protect you. Make sure you get everything you need. Shelter and feed you. But them? They just want to put in a cage and dissect you to see what makes you tick! And that's just a big ole mess!"

It dawns on her: She's -pale-. She looks at her hands, and takes the offered uniform. It's striking how much the two of them look alike. They're two of a kind, or so she assumes. He's got his head on straight and knows what he's talking about. He's offering help. That makes him the good guy, the officer (— officer? Why did that come to mind?) in charge.

She stands up, holding the coat closed with one hand, taking the offered uniform.

"You know about this, don't you? Did they try to do this to you, too?" she asks naively. He just seems so happy and upbeat! This is the right place to be. Certainly.

"Ooooh, I know things. That's what experience gets you, girlie. So. Don't remember who you are. Or who you were?" Joker makes it a point not to return the girls purse, it's just too perfect. "So, I do something for you, you do something for me. Once you're feeling better." he explains as he reaches up to brush his fingers into her hair and gives her a little tossle.

"We're going to do great things, you and I!" he says as he moves to hop off the side of the vat, so she may take the stairs down to join him. "For now, you get in a shower, get all cleaned up, and then you can go shopping for something you like."

He wants to see what his new toy can do after all.

"I'm afraid I don't. I'm sorry. I'm not stupid, believe me, I just … don't remember anything right now. It's coming in fragments," she apologizes. Her eyes dart to the right for a moment, tracking a blob of writhing, tentacled energy as it passes in and out of a spiralling hole in the sky that closes up on itself.

Nope. There will be no way she's going to unsee that. Or anything else for that matter. She's beginning to sympathize with cats that stare at walls for no reason.

Following after the Joker, she agrees to his terms blindly. "It's a fair deal. I don't want to be a freeloader." All the way down the steps (which she nearly misses, seeing through them) she is working on trying to focus her sight somehow, to abate the flood of sensory information that's giving her a headache and playing with her sense of balance and spacial perception. The wobbling comes to a stop a the bottom of the steps. She showers as instructed, dries herself, and puts on the given uniform.

Isn't insanity fun? Don't even ask what Joker sees in his eyes, it's just downright nuts.

"A freeloader? Hoo! No way, you're my new favorite! Now, you aren't gonna just go out there like that. You need to find a look that's all yours, and you want to rock." Joker says, and then glances towards Harley's former room. "Just not in there. That won't do. But, we'll figure that out!" he says with a grin and gives her bottom a swat. "No run along, Princess. Explore, get used to those new peepers of yours." Even he'll admit they're just a little creepy.

"And tomorrow evening, we'll go shopping! You can sleep on the cot over there."

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