Gentlemen, I like var.
Who: Schrodinger and an NPC Joker
Where: some Gotham in the endless stream of
What: Schrodinger saw what the Joker can do to people. Schrodinger doesn't like amateurs.
Warnings: A LOT.
Sometimes he could stretch out and move. Really move, like he did before Rivelata. He'd made it to a few place, never his world, but he didn't really have that much to complain about. He liked to imagine he was already dead in his reality. That somehow made everything else easier.
He hadn't ever jumped to this city before and truthfully he wasn't sure if this was the right one. Time and space in this area fractured and broke off a million different ways, but it really didn't matter, all he had to find was one man. Schrodinger really didn't care if people did bad things. Rape, murder, torture, it was all in the name of glorious war in his mind. A necessity to prevent the stagnation of peace. It just happened to be a necessity he quite enjoyed. He had been killed himself on several occasions and had watched comrades die in droves for the amusement of his mad fat Major. Death, pain, torture, nothing new to him, nothing he feared. Rather he welcomed it and if there was no justice, no sense to it, all the better.
However...
However however however...
There was a young boy in a dimension Schrodinger visited on occasion who would sit wide eyed and stalk still, like a Death Camp survivor. The boy meant...an unexpected amount to him and seeing the boy like that irritated the little Nazi beyond all belief.
The city he was in now stank. Sensitive nose and sensitive ears twitched as Schrodinger moved easily through the alleys and rooftops. He was looking for a specific person, a specific man. He had many things planned for tonight. A needle filled with a drug left a pleasant weight in his right pocket and the promise of an old, but well equipped shack on the outskirts of the city sent delighted shivers down his spine. Tonight promised many things, all of them delightful.
-0-
The man had been neither hard to find or subdued, although Schrodinger had to deal with the indignity of sewing his own organs back into his stomach. That had been troublesome to say the least. But he had managed to plunge the needle into the man's neck and had him tied to the chair in the shack within the hour. He was going through the large black bag Dok had lent him when the man started to come down from the nightmarish high.
"What's this? A kitty cat's come to play with me?" drawled the man, painted lips stretching in a lurid grin, "Nice costume, kid, but aren't you a little early for Halloween?"
"Oh this?" Schrodinger asked, turning to proudly display the Nazi uniform a bit, "It's mein most treasured uniform! Ach! This?" He pointed to the bit of cloth with the distinct R hanging out of his pocket. "It belongs to a colleague of mine."
"Very nice, very nice," the man said, twisting his head and wriggling his hands that were bound to the arms of the chair, "Didn't know the little Robin ran with Nazis. Learn something new every day." The room filled with the man's high pitched laughter. "So what do you want with me, little pussy?"
Schrodinger cocked his head to the side, smiling right back, in one hand he held a pair of pliars. In the other, a scalpel. There was a gleam in his eye when he answered. "I thought ve could stop und play a vhile."
-o-
The nails went first. The first two ripped out quick enough to cause the blood to splatter the both of them, but Schrodinger became fascinated by the way the skin and bone tore. The rest were done slowly. He used the clamp next, meticulously shattering every joint in the man's hands. The man was still laughing hysterically, although it was getting hard to tell what was a laugh and what was a scream. Schrodinger laughed with him, naming the bones and joints and muscles for the man. The fun was delayed when the man got ahold of Schrodinger's scalpel, severing the ligaments in Schrodinger's own wrist.
"Ach!" the Cat swore, letting the blood vessel heal and the skin knit back together, "That was no good! Ve'll haff to take care of that hand of yours." He produced a bone saw from the black bag. After a moments thought he brought out a large IV bag filled with blood, hooking it up to the man's arm. His task completed, Schrodinger quickly set to work on the man's other arm, sawing off that hand at the wrist. The motion of the saw through the bone intriqued him.
The elbow was a little harder to saw through.
The man wasn't smiling anymore. Schrodinger was and he stepped back to look at the man. Another break, a quick patch up to make sure the man didn't bleed out. Another IV of drugs courtesy of Herr Dok. It would be boring if he had to wait for the man to wake up from any naps he decided to take. The man still wasn't smiling and it occurred to Schrodinger that for someone who was supposed to be quite the card, the man hadn't made him laugh once since they met.
Schrodinger danced back a little, smiling, "Tell me a joke!"
"Wh-what's red and white and black all over?"
"Vhat?"
"Your brains splattered on a newspaper."
Schrodinger pouted, "That vasn't funny at all. Tell another."
Lurid smile. "You're quite the little terror. What's you're stake in Batman's operation? So you take me out, beat me, mutilate me within an inch of my life. What's that do? You think your little bird is going to welcome you back with open arms? HA! He hates this kinda thing. You're so busy trying to win his approval, you're just digging yourself deeper and deeper."
Schrodinger tipped his head to the side, ears twitching, "Who said I vas expecting him to velcome me at all." A grin spread on the Cat's face, wide and fanged. "This is all just another step for glorious var. Maybe I'll kill you, maybe I von't. I haven't decided yet." He held up the hand he had removed earlier. With the scalpel he began to remove strips of flesh, popping them into his mouth as he did. "Maybe I'll chop off all of your limbs and make a lovely meal for myself und then drain all your blood for mein hungry comrades back home." He picked up the forearm, biting hungrily into the skin and meat.
The bone was stripped of meat in a matter of minutes, Schrodinger searching out the last drops of blood and tendons with his tongue before turning his eyes back to the man. He smiled back at the man who had the same lurid wretched smile. He twirled the scalpel in his fingers and stepped forward.
"You're not smiling vide enough, Herr Clown." He settled, placing a strong hand on the man's neck to hold him still, slipping the sharp blade into the left edge of his mouth and cutting up, slicing skin until the blade was stopped by the point where the lower jaw met the top. He repeated the same action on the other side and then stepped back to admire his work. He had cut far back, severing tendons until the man's jaw hung open in a wide gaping grin.
Schrodinger smiled back, moving to pick up the hacksaw. "That's better! Now let's do your nose!"
-o-
Another break. Another round of IV bags and first aid. Schrodinger's actually starting to feel a little full now and a little bored with this unfunny clown, but the fun is so far from over. He moves the man to the table he had prepared specifically for this, strapping him down and removing the rest of his blood stained clothes.
"You know vhat's really exciting about this?" Schrodinger said as he busied himself, "There's more than one of you! Not in this dimension I mean, but in others. There's a long line of them, one after the other after the other!" He chuckles to himself, spinning the scalpel with his fingers again and turning on te bright bright surgery light. "Ve never haff to stop playing!"
He smiles kindly down at the man before putting his surgical mask on, "Und who knows, mein freund. Maybe the next one vill know how to tell a good joke, ja? Then ve vouldn't haff to do this part."
-o-
The Joker was found sometime later outside of Arkham Asylum. Still alive, though missing the majority of his limbs, including genitilia. His face was mutilated beyond recognition. He bore the scars of what looked like an invasive operation. X-ray would reveal him to be missing two ribs. Across the skin that didn't bear carefully stitched up surgical scars was a mad pattern of Nazi phrases and carefully drawn flags scared into his skin.
He was left outside with a note around his neck:
"Terribly dull after all. Thank goodness for the multiverse.
-Regards.
Schrodinger's Cat"
Where: some Gotham in the endless stream of
What: Schrodinger saw what the Joker can do to people. Schrodinger doesn't like amateurs.
Warnings: A LOT.
Sometimes he could stretch out and move. Really move, like he did before Rivelata. He'd made it to a few place, never his world, but he didn't really have that much to complain about. He liked to imagine he was already dead in his reality. That somehow made everything else easier.
He hadn't ever jumped to this city before and truthfully he wasn't sure if this was the right one. Time and space in this area fractured and broke off a million different ways, but it really didn't matter, all he had to find was one man. Schrodinger really didn't care if people did bad things. Rape, murder, torture, it was all in the name of glorious war in his mind. A necessity to prevent the stagnation of peace. It just happened to be a necessity he quite enjoyed. He had been killed himself on several occasions and had watched comrades die in droves for the amusement of his mad fat Major. Death, pain, torture, nothing new to him, nothing he feared. Rather he welcomed it and if there was no justice, no sense to it, all the better.
However...
However however however...
There was a young boy in a dimension Schrodinger visited on occasion who would sit wide eyed and stalk still, like a Death Camp survivor. The boy meant...an unexpected amount to him and seeing the boy like that irritated the little Nazi beyond all belief.
The city he was in now stank. Sensitive nose and sensitive ears twitched as Schrodinger moved easily through the alleys and rooftops. He was looking for a specific person, a specific man. He had many things planned for tonight. A needle filled with a drug left a pleasant weight in his right pocket and the promise of an old, but well equipped shack on the outskirts of the city sent delighted shivers down his spine. Tonight promised many things, all of them delightful.
-0-
The man had been neither hard to find or subdued, although Schrodinger had to deal with the indignity of sewing his own organs back into his stomach. That had been troublesome to say the least. But he had managed to plunge the needle into the man's neck and had him tied to the chair in the shack within the hour. He was going through the large black bag Dok had lent him when the man started to come down from the nightmarish high.
"What's this? A kitty cat's come to play with me?" drawled the man, painted lips stretching in a lurid grin, "Nice costume, kid, but aren't you a little early for Halloween?"
"Oh this?" Schrodinger asked, turning to proudly display the Nazi uniform a bit, "It's mein most treasured uniform! Ach! This?" He pointed to the bit of cloth with the distinct R hanging out of his pocket. "It belongs to a colleague of mine."
"Very nice, very nice," the man said, twisting his head and wriggling his hands that were bound to the arms of the chair, "Didn't know the little Robin ran with Nazis. Learn something new every day." The room filled with the man's high pitched laughter. "So what do you want with me, little pussy?"
Schrodinger cocked his head to the side, smiling right back, in one hand he held a pair of pliars. In the other, a scalpel. There was a gleam in his eye when he answered. "I thought ve could stop und play a vhile."
-o-
The nails went first. The first two ripped out quick enough to cause the blood to splatter the both of them, but Schrodinger became fascinated by the way the skin and bone tore. The rest were done slowly. He used the clamp next, meticulously shattering every joint in the man's hands. The man was still laughing hysterically, although it was getting hard to tell what was a laugh and what was a scream. Schrodinger laughed with him, naming the bones and joints and muscles for the man. The fun was delayed when the man got ahold of Schrodinger's scalpel, severing the ligaments in Schrodinger's own wrist.
"Ach!" the Cat swore, letting the blood vessel heal and the skin knit back together, "That was no good! Ve'll haff to take care of that hand of yours." He produced a bone saw from the black bag. After a moments thought he brought out a large IV bag filled with blood, hooking it up to the man's arm. His task completed, Schrodinger quickly set to work on the man's other arm, sawing off that hand at the wrist. The motion of the saw through the bone intriqued him.
The elbow was a little harder to saw through.
The man wasn't smiling anymore. Schrodinger was and he stepped back to look at the man. Another break, a quick patch up to make sure the man didn't bleed out. Another IV of drugs courtesy of Herr Dok. It would be boring if he had to wait for the man to wake up from any naps he decided to take. The man still wasn't smiling and it occurred to Schrodinger that for someone who was supposed to be quite the card, the man hadn't made him laugh once since they met.
Schrodinger danced back a little, smiling, "Tell me a joke!"
"Wh-what's red and white and black all over?"
"Vhat?"
"Your brains splattered on a newspaper."
Schrodinger pouted, "That vasn't funny at all. Tell another."
Lurid smile. "You're quite the little terror. What's you're stake in Batman's operation? So you take me out, beat me, mutilate me within an inch of my life. What's that do? You think your little bird is going to welcome you back with open arms? HA! He hates this kinda thing. You're so busy trying to win his approval, you're just digging yourself deeper and deeper."
Schrodinger tipped his head to the side, ears twitching, "Who said I vas expecting him to velcome me at all." A grin spread on the Cat's face, wide and fanged. "This is all just another step for glorious var. Maybe I'll kill you, maybe I von't. I haven't decided yet." He held up the hand he had removed earlier. With the scalpel he began to remove strips of flesh, popping them into his mouth as he did. "Maybe I'll chop off all of your limbs and make a lovely meal for myself und then drain all your blood for mein hungry comrades back home." He picked up the forearm, biting hungrily into the skin and meat.
The bone was stripped of meat in a matter of minutes, Schrodinger searching out the last drops of blood and tendons with his tongue before turning his eyes back to the man. He smiled back at the man who had the same lurid wretched smile. He twirled the scalpel in his fingers and stepped forward.
"You're not smiling vide enough, Herr Clown." He settled, placing a strong hand on the man's neck to hold him still, slipping the sharp blade into the left edge of his mouth and cutting up, slicing skin until the blade was stopped by the point where the lower jaw met the top. He repeated the same action on the other side and then stepped back to admire his work. He had cut far back, severing tendons until the man's jaw hung open in a wide gaping grin.
Schrodinger smiled back, moving to pick up the hacksaw. "That's better! Now let's do your nose!"
-o-
Another break. Another round of IV bags and first aid. Schrodinger's actually starting to feel a little full now and a little bored with this unfunny clown, but the fun is so far from over. He moves the man to the table he had prepared specifically for this, strapping him down and removing the rest of his blood stained clothes.
"You know vhat's really exciting about this?" Schrodinger said as he busied himself, "There's more than one of you! Not in this dimension I mean, but in others. There's a long line of them, one after the other after the other!" He chuckles to himself, spinning the scalpel with his fingers again and turning on te bright bright surgery light. "Ve never haff to stop playing!"
He smiles kindly down at the man before putting his surgical mask on, "Und who knows, mein freund. Maybe the next one vill know how to tell a good joke, ja? Then ve vouldn't haff to do this part."
-o-
The Joker was found sometime later outside of Arkham Asylum. Still alive, though missing the majority of his limbs, including genitilia. His face was mutilated beyond recognition. He bore the scars of what looked like an invasive operation. X-ray would reveal him to be missing two ribs. Across the skin that didn't bear carefully stitched up surgical scars was a mad pattern of Nazi phrases and carefully drawn flags scared into his skin.
He was left outside with a note around his neck:
"Terribly dull after all. Thank goodness for the multiverse.
-Regards.
Schrodinger's Cat"