Slipping Into Entropy - Part 30
Bruce followed, recognizing the want for discretion. It was a long way down, but they met no one else. Once on the street, being downtown, they would hit a very mixed crowd though still likely not what the Joker was looking for or used to. Nevertheless, they probably wouldn't seem out of place.
All smiles and normality once they reached the throng strolling the pavement in the light of dusk and streetlamps, Joker moved fluidly through the crowd, watching everyone without appearring to be paying attention, adapting to their movements to deflect attention and blend in. Pausing every so often to mimick the other people gazing in shop windows, pretending to consider entering a store for some purchase, he moved down a narrow sidestreet, hands stuck nonchalantly in his pockets as he walked.
One moment he was there, the next he wasn't. The skinny man had ducked down an even narrower side alley behind the nearest ritzy shops almost as fast as one could blink.
Surprisingly, Bruce kept up with him well. It wasn't an easy task, and maybe the Joker didn't know it - how could he? - but Bruce had once moved this way. He thought of it as the art of knowing where all eyes were gazing at any given time, and shifting between the spaces. It was of course easier said than done. Nevertheless, he wound up right next to the Joker.
In a small back street where most of the vendors usually received their shipments of goods, the green haired man flicked his gaze sideways, a note of approval in his expression. Some small part of him had been worried that the Bat wouldn't be able to keep up, becoming a dangerous burden to look out for. Keeping to the shadows and waiting for the right time when no one would be in sight, he leaned closer to Bruce.
"Your word. You are not to speak of this to anyone, not even drop a hint in any form that could lead to its discovery. You will not jeopardize this in any form. Give me your word, Bat, or you do not get to go any further in this part of the tour."
Suspiciously, Bruce observed the Joker. Perhaps the man did hold some value in honor among criminals after all. As it was, the Joker knew his terms. Bruce would have to be just another shadow in the room, observing only, just as the League had taught him to. He wouldn't be asked to believe in the principals he was sure to witness, but he'd still have to watch without judgment. And not seek retribution later. He nodded once more. "You have it."
"Very well. If you break it and destroy my work, I'll make certain you live to regret it..." Moving quickly once there wasn't another soul in sight, Joker darted out to what looked like a normal manhole cover, prying it up hurriedly. He beckoned violently, urging Bruce forward and down. "Move!"
He did so quickly, reflecting all the while that he'd heard that statement from Joker before. He slid easily into the space provided and dropped to land on solid ground, moving out of the way for Joker to follow, while taking in the surroundings.
Sliding the cover back in place, he dropped down the ladder and into the gloom. Digging in an alcove by the metal rungs, Joker pulled out a small, dim flashlight, illuminating the tunnels that seemed to stretch out in all directions. While superficially resembling a sewer, the water and smell that would accompany such a place were entirely missing. "...welcome to the Catacombs," he chuckled softly, pausing for a moment before starting out into the maze. "Stay close."
Bruce was curiously surprised. He couldn't claim to have been down Chicago's sewers before, but this was a little different than what he would have expected. As he followed the Joker, listening for signs of life, he counted their steps, mentally mapping about where they would be above ground.
Joker led them in a twisted, snaking trail, deliberately trying to confuse his companion. Holding up a hand at one point and pausing, sounds of life could be heard shuffling nearer. A glow got slowly brighter down a neighboring tunnel, and suddenly two ruffians appeared, strings of duffel bags hanging off of them. The men's jaws dropped as they spied their company, hands darting for their guns.
Joker's mouth curled into a snarl, stepping forward. The pilfered kitchen knives had already sprung into his hands. "Idiots! What have I told you about guns down here? You draw noise to us, and the party's over. No more easy, clean jobs."
If anything, the men looked even more startled. "B-boss? Yer back? We thought you was gone fer good, you din't come back. I thought youse said it was on'y one job!" His compatriot nodded along, eying Bruce, sizing him up as a possible threat. "Yeah. Dat's an awful long job. An' who's he?"
"He's one of mine, that's all you need know," Joker hissed back, a hint of threat lurking in his tone. "People who stick their noses where they aren't wanted often lose them..."
Bruce followed the conversation, gazing at the two men with all the finesse of hired muscle. He knew he at least looked the part, standing hunched slightly forward just behind the Joker's shoulder, head cocked to the side and observing him every now and again as he spoke to the men who'd once been in his employment. In his experience with these crowds, he'd usually done best when he was more or less silent. At least until he could assess the situation further.
After a minute or two more of bickering, as was usual with henchmen of the thicker persuasion, Joker sent them off to finish whatever errand they were on, watching them as they hurried down another tunnel. Continuing down his own path, the madman walked in silence.
"You've got some sort of team down here?" Bruce asked. Those men had called Joker "boss", but it stood to reason that with him being gone for so long whatever structure they had, if they'd had one, wouldn't be under the Joker's control. Then again, he could always be wrong. His curiosity was building. If the Joker had been a major player in Chicago's criminal underworld, and both his and Gotham PD's best research hadn't turned up anything on the man, it would have been a miracle. Or some artistry of disguise.
"Not exactly. The catacombs were my idea, my design. The Marcellos helped build and maintain it; in return, they leave me be and occasionally do me small favors. Not a bad deal. After all, it isn't everyday one can find someone able to get tunnels dug near every major target without anyone catching on. They're hardly in a position to argue anymore. The mob is a joke, now..." Grinning and humming to himself, he let them deeper into the maze, their footsteps creating a soft staccato as the minutes ticked by.
To say the least, Bruce was impressed. And a little unnerved that apparently he and the Joker had been having a very similar idea and putting it into use simultaneously in two different U.S. cities half a continent away from each other, completely unawares. Yes, that was minutely disturbing.
The air in the tunnels slowly began to take on a different scent, the sharp scent of mosses and loam rich with decay. Unlike the open aspect of the rest of the tunnels, this part looked like a dead end, a heavy iron grille blocking the way forward. Joker took a small piece of metal that looked like a bobby pin, picked the hefty lock chaining the gate shut, and shoved the metal bars until they swung inward with a groan. As soon as they were through, he replaced the lock, tugging until it was secure.
"...we don't need to worry so much about sound, here. Nobody ever comes above this place, and if they heard anything, they'd assume something else," Joker laughed softly, moving forward as the tunnel slowly changed, becoming less patterned after a sewer and more like its namesake: a catacomb. In fact, when they entered a room that branched off the subterranean path looked like the basement level of a mausoleum, complete with stairs leading to an upper level. In place of where the coffin slots would be, however, were storage cubbyholes, a dusty mattress covered in dirty rags gracing one corner of the room.
"Home, sweet home," Bruce muttered, wondering what was located above them. He could easily imagine a graveyard. It would be fitting. This place had the air of purgatory about it. He took the time to look around, moving a hand over some of the dusty compartments, looking up the stairs, but deliberately ignoring the mattress.
The cubbyholes weren't full of what one might expect of a professional criminal. Granted, there was assorted weaponry of all kinds, although the collection of blades and explosives seemed to be larger than anything else. There didn't appear to be the normal stockpile of emergency cash, however, and most of what filled the shelves would be considered practically worthless by a normal adult's standards. Aside from random bits and pieces and hardware tools, toys that had seen better days and items of exceptional color or glitter filled the spaces. There was one alcove that looked like it was filled with bottles and sticks of makeup and dyes. A hole with dirty, well-loved decks of cards hovered right above what seemed to serve as a bed.
"Play a lot of solitaire down here?" Bruce asked. The whole thing felt surreal. With someone like the Joker, he hadn't know what to expect, but this hadn't exactly been it. For someone so uncomfortable in Batman's caves, he had to assume the man spent most of his time elsewhere. He had always sort of imagined the Joker was a migrant criminal. He did know from experience though that a setup like this could be the perfect hiding place.
"Sometimes." The shorter man shrugged, running fingers over the shelves and taking a few things. All of the cards that had been left went into his pockets. "I don't spend much time in this room. It's just part of the tunnels the mob doesn't go into. Part of the agreement, but they also have no reason to come here. There's no profits to be made." Stepping back into the tunnel, he continued walking down a different path, knowing Bruce would follow.
He did, after one last long look at the room, and caught up with Joker hastily. As they walked in silence, imagery began forming in his mind. Puzzle pieces gravitating toward each other and fitting together loosely took over his internal vision, but still he remained wary. He knew the Joker would form his own hypotheses about the connections Bruce would make to what he was being shown, and may even try to influence those thoughts. At least he was cooperating with Bruce's request.
It didn't take long to reach the other end of the tunnel, the air growing fresher as they neared the surface. This time there was no manhole, the pavement beneath their feet suddenly transitioning to dirt. There was another gate here, though this one wasn't heavily locked, just latched, with mesh threaded halfway up its height. Opening the grille, Joker got closer to the ground as the ceiling bowed down and the tunnel shrunk, crawling towards the dim light ahead. He slipped through a narrow opening, his feet reappearing as he stood on the other side.
Waiting until Bruce followed and made it through, the clown pulled him to his feet. They were in what appeared to be a wooded park, a scent of marshy water somewhere nearby.
Getting his bearings, Bruce looked around. The fresh air felt wonderful. The trees were too tall where they stood to see signs of the city, he heard little, and the light pollution was still too strong to make out many stars. He'd lost track of where they were. They had been walking for some time, but he had been able to tell that they'd gone in a few circles. In the end, he would either have to check GPS or, "Where are we?"
Raising an eyebrow at Bruce, still not entirely sure whether to trust him, his paranoia at being tracked showed in his face, tightening subtle lines around his features. "The lagoons. Jackson Park."
Bruce took a moment. "You weren't kidding when you said you were interested in going to Yacht Harbor." What a grand juxtaposition, with Chicago's finest above, and the Joker's hideaway below. He breathed in the crisp air, and tried to take it all in. It felt eerie, the whole thing, but he just couldn't be completely surprised. It was like something that would hit him later, when he could be certain that all those pieces fell together.
"...me? Kid? Now why would I do that?" Joker shot back, a smirk twitching at the corners of his mouth. It felt good to be back in comfortable settings again, places where he knew what to expect. He had never minded "high society" until called upon to fit in among its members for a lengthy period of time. "The whole city can be a playground, but it's nice to have a back yard. Especially with the irony of so many sailing and strolling nearby, never knowing how close they are to the abyss."
Bruce took a breath, planted his feet, and looked around. "So that's it? You designed and organized the construction of this giant tunnel, no small feat, I'll give you that even with the help of the mob, and then let them go off and run the thing while you play around in it's "backyard"?" Disbelief was evident in Bruce's voice, but the tone was intended to goad rather than accuse. "Where's the fire, the dynamite, the destruction? Where's the chaos?" He stepped toward the Joker. "Don't tell me it wasn't there."
"Of course it's there," Joker grinned back. "Go ask the police how many cold cases they have. Go ask them about Devil's Night. Or the time I planted kegs under the courthouse on Guy Fawkes day that turned out to be laughing gas, not dynamite. Ask them about fires in decorative patterns, gangs with new firearms, and painted animals in the zoo. Ask them why even now, no one dares touch a piece of graffiti if it's of a smilie face."
"I'm asking you." But Bruce conceded on the matter with a sigh. He didn't want to let on how much the whole thing struck him as a perfect antithesis of Batman and his crusade. It simply carried greatly unsettling implications, like some sort of cosmic irony. Had the Joker laughed when he'd first heard of Batman? What had he thought when he'd discovered the caves in Gotham? Imprisoned in them or not, that must have made for one hell of a joke.
Tsking, Joker just shook his head, stepping closer to peer up at his perfect foil. "...you can ask, and I can answer, but only so much as I remember. I think I used to have a great deal of memories and space for more storage, but alas, little by little they disappeared with my marbles." Amused by the odd expression on the other man's face, he took out a deck of cards, shuffling them absently. "...a magic trick for your thoughts, Batsy?"
Gazing skeptically at the Joker, Bruce allowed himself to be humored for the time being. For all he knew, it could have been the light disguise he wore that helped his nerves. "And what kind of a magic trick would that be, Joker?" Honestly, he wasn't quite sure what to think walking through someone else's history.
"Now, it wouldn't be any fun if I told you. You'll like it, I think," he purred back with a cheeky wink. Raising the hand with the deck, he turned it with one finger until the cards fanned out into a perfect spiral circle. "You're the one digging for secrets while offering none of your own. I should think you'd do me the pleasure of... knowing more about you... while you accomplish the same. Tell me."
After a moment of deliberation, he couldn't come up with a way around it. "You built caves. You built a base here. For your little....crusades. ...........all the while I was doing the same in Gotham." A striking image snapped into his head suddenly, of Harvey's coin spinning high in the air. Both sides were once alike; now one burnt, one clean.
Joker's grin took on a manic edge, uncontrollable laughter spilling over to fill the little grove they stood in. It took him a moment to catch his breath before he straightened again, flushed from amusement at the thoughts the confession had given him. "...now, Bats, do I really have to say 'I told you so'? Because I did." Extracting the aces from the deck, he pocketed the rest, flipping them back to back and showing Bruce. "...insides are red, outsides black, yes? Watch..." Bringing the paired aces together until the sets were just a few inches apart, one pair in each hand, he leaned closer and blew... and suddenly the black aces were on the inside, the reds flipped to the exterior. "See? Magic," he purred, watching to see what reaction he'd get.
Bruce was stone faced. If that trick was supposed to represent some unquestionable symbolic meaning about the two of them, it was falling on blind eyes. "This doesn't change anything." No matter what he said, nor even how many interesting little idiosyncrasies or similarities popped up between them, Joker was still the Joker, and he was still Batman. None of that changed the fact that they were walking down two very different paths, if somewhat.....parallel.
Pouting, the shorter man shoved the aces into his pocket, shooting Bruce a resentful look. "You really are a humorless stiff, you know that?" Stepping closer, he made to grab either side of Bruce's face, an intent look on his own.
"You find this funny." It would either be funny or tragic, and Bruce tended to agree with the latter. The Joker's hands held him still, but he made no move to free himself.
Sliding his fingers down either side of Bruce's face, he hooked the tips in the corners of his mouth, gently tugging his features into a forced smile. "Card tricks are supposed to make you smile. And yes, I find it funny; I find most things to be absolutely hilarious. You should try it sometime. Laughter is certainly a healthier reaction than moping about tragically and smashing in the skull of the next thing that irritates you."
Tearing Joker's hands away from his face, Bruce snarled in disgust. "I'd think twice about that particular habit the next time you decide to be irritating." He stepped closer to the Joker, looking slightly down at him, letting his height work to an advantage. "There's somewhere else I want to go as well."
"Oh? You're going to have to speak up, if that's the case. I'm mad, not psychic," Joker berated him, grinning back at the angry grimace. Going up on the tips of his toes to better reach the other man's ear, he leaned in to whisper. "And I thought you knew; I like being hit. Why do you think I do it?" Another breathless bout of laughter washed over Bruce's skin.
In spite of Bruce's effort, his eyes closed and a very persistent tingle ran from his head to the base of his spine. He refused to let his breath falter. The laughter, on the other hand, was exactly one of those irritating examples. But the subject at hand was serious, even to the Joker. One way or another, Bruce would drive it home. "I know where this one is. For the most part. And I doubt you'll like it."
"If I won't like it, why would you ask me to take you there? Do you think I'm that much of a masochist? Or are you that much of a sadist?" he teased back, dropping back down until Bruce towered over him again.
"Shut up, Joker." Bruce could feel himself flush. "We'll go there in the morning. It's a bit of a drive." He stepped back from the Joker, checking out the area once more. "How far do those tunnels go, anyway?"
"...but Brucey, what if I don't want to? What are you going to do, gag me?" he chuckled, shooting him an openly hungry look. "I suppose the mystery will keep until daylight. As for the tunnels, I probably don't know anymore. They've just kept dig-dig-digging while I've been away. Miles and miles. I'm guessing the mob has mostly concentrated on getting near places of stickyfingered interest. Don't get any big ideas and decide to explore them on your own, though. You will get lost, or found and shot, or you'll wander into my sections of the maze. And mine are boobytrapped," he added.
"Of course they are." Bruce didn't enjoy being provoked, and his lip curled slightly in warning. He would have loved the opportunity to wander that labyrinth. Already he tried to commit as much of it to memory as he had seen. If that had only been a small portion of it, the thing must be massive.
"I like to own dangerous things." Watching that mouth snarl back at him, Joker licked his lips, only looking encouraged. It was still bizarre to see such familiar expressions without paint and scars to exaggerate and age them. "What are your plans to occupy the rest of the evening? Or am I allowed to make plans?"
Considering, Bruce thought that was a very bad idea at first, but then again, the more Joker revealed about his previous occupations in this city, the better. Bruce may be able to use it to his advantage eventually. "Depends on what those plans are."
"Oh, I won't be telling you here. Let's go back to the hotel, and then maybe I'll let something slip," he purred back. "Besides which, I think if you're doing all this delving, I'm allowed to delve a little in return. Certainly there was a time in between being a traumatized brat and a giant rat..."
Bruce gave him a withering look, turning his back on the Joker in favor of the dim sounds of the street off in the distance and made for the edge of the park. "You coming?" he shouted over his shoulder.
"You didn't give me an answer," Joker pointed out, falling in beside him, arms tucked cheekily behind his back as they walked. "Does this mean I don't get to pick an activity and location?"
"We're going back to the hotel. Like I said, depending on what those plans of yours are, I'll consider it." The park ended abruptly, and only a street down, they found a train station which would take them back downtown.
Smiling and humming to himself, Joker didn't bother asking any more, content with that answer for the moment. His anticipation of reaching the hotel was the only thing that kept him from repeatedly pulling the tempting emergency stop straps within the train like there was no tomorrow.
They took a side entrance in the parking garage to get back into the hotel, bypassing the lobby and the front desk. Besides a few couples going out for the nightlife, they didn't run into a whole lot of people. Bruce did, however, discover another elevator that they opted to use instead of the stairs. The tunnel system was still fresh on his mind, and with Joker being quiet for once, Bruce was taking the time to reflect on it in detail.
Joker, meanwhile, was spending the time reflecting not on old, familiar places, but on the man beside him. As predictable as he could be, the Bat sometimes surprised him by not being a stick in the mud or a wrench in the gears. As it was, he couldn't figure out what the real reason was that Bruce had insisted on this little tour; he had said he wanted to know more, and perhaps that was true, but he wouldn't put it past the billionaire to be gathering data merely to use it against him.
A/N: A humorous cut from the logs:
RaiztlinMajere (8:51:25 PM): (( These actually exist. They JUST found them. Tunnel network going pretty much underneath everywhere in the city, nearly always coming up right next to major retail places. ))
wheninneverland (8:52:07 PM): (( They JUST found them? WTF. How do you.....miss something like that??? o_O; ))
RaiztlinMajere (8:52:32 PM): (( Exactly. They've been there for years, apparently. ))
Yes indeed. I based Joker's tunnel system on a real life feature of Chicago, plus a little author's embellishment. XD I find the weirdest things while researching for my writing...
Also:
wheninneverland (8:33:30 PM): (( omg.............................Joker-goblin king. ))
RaiztlinMajere (8:34:10 PM): (( Delicious. X3 ))
Apologies to those who happen to actually live in/have gone to Chicago. I've gotten all my stuff from hearsay, internet research, maps, satellite images, and my imagination.
Also also: I've got WoW invites, dear gods, someone come to the Scarlet Crusade server to play and hang out with me. x_x I think the invites get you a free month to try the game out, 3x experience bonuses for everything, and some other stuff...