Aldora Di Canzone.
"The Joker."
♦ ♪ ♦
"Either you spill the information
or I spill your brain,
you insufferable scum."
♪ ♦ ♪
Occupation Classified. // 5'4.
294. // October 31st.
Independent OC Account.


Sneak a Peek

{ Okay! I have those ‘greet your follower’ things from a few of you that I will reply to, but not right now.

It’s time for mun to hit the hay, so if you need me, contact me via whatever methods you have!

Goodnight.

gloat-and-suffer:

« I would not know. I had never seen what you play with the cards. I had seen others play. » It wasn’t wise to interact with the Subject— unless you were one innocent of all crimes. And even then, they tended to avoid him most of the time. A pity— for he was somewhat of a social creature.


« Madec. » He added in the end as he watched the girl cut up her jacket. He wanted to question why she was doing so — but then his brain clicked that she was making the head-wrap for him. 

      ♦ Shame,” she replied absentmindedly, “cards games of any sort are using very stimulating.” Covering the knife and placing it back just barely within her boot, she began to tie together some of the material strips.

The Joker quietly repeated the being’s name several times to her self as she finished what she hoped would do a well enough job at covering and keeping his wound from getting any dirtier.

"Well, Madec, here.” Stepping forward, the girl handed the other the tattered cloth, though it was now tied to be in a small circle – leave for a space she continuously wrapped cloth around, where his eye would go.

gloat-and-suffer:

« Joker. » He mirrored the odd name before nodding. « Like on the cards. » Those playing cards. With Queens of Hearts— various numbers. And than there were the Jokers. Four of them. Was she just one or of three more that he didn’t know about? He pressed a hand to the tar that dripped down his flesh.

« A head-wrap? What is it? » And he refused to go back to ‘where he came from’ — whether it be his origins or the containment facility. He was mad at them. It was their fault he lost an eye and like a child who was ignoring their parent, he was doing just that.  

      ♦ "Precisely," she chimed, a smirk finding it’s way to her features, "the most untouched of the cards, might I add.” Watching the other, the Joker tilted her head some. He had yet to answer her question.

"It is a cloth you wrap around your head, usually to cover an injury of some sort – just as the name states." Removing her jacket and evening it out over her left arm, she knelt down and drew a small pocket knife.

"You still haven’t told me what to call you~," the girl sang out. And with the end of her note, she began to cut and mutilate the jacket, ripping it into thick strips. Maybe doing it with her shirt would have been a better bet.

gloat-and-suffer:

« If I could die from such a wound— I would not have been inflicted with it. » The being remarked almost bitterly — resent visible in each word he ‘spoke’. « Do not come near me. » How was he supposed to know if she was even real? His hallucinations spoke to him sometimes. They would talk to him or either lung out at him.

Not that she looked as hideous and deformed as the creatures but he wasn’t going to take any risks. « Who are you? » 

      ♦ And with that, the girl took her step back. If he could get in her head and speak, who knows what else he could be capable of? “…” And yet, another step back, the girl examining as much about this one as she could. His wound, his shadow, his stance, the way he breathed.

"You could call me a Joker,” she cooed softly, “and what are you called?” Eyes squinted, trying to see the wound a bit better. He seemed harmless so far, aside from the whole ‘in your mind and talking’ thing.

"You’ll get detained if anyone sees you with that kind of injury, believe me," a small chuckle, "know. I can try to make a head-wrap for you, just to cover it until you get back to… well, wherever it is you came from.”

gloat-and-suffer:

The unknown being posed a threat to the unstable being as he took a step back. He suddenly missed his big empty room - missed seeing nothing but a security camera staring him down—.. « Who are you? No Doctor. » The words spoken into her head came out as jumbled - quiet. The being appeared to be pitifully weka, but that was a mask he provided onto himself all by accident. 

      ♦ No professional medic for this one, huh? That relieved the girl some, not having to call for an ambulance meant that she didn’t have to change, and she didn’t have to leave this guy all alone while he waited.

When words came from a place other than his mouth, green eyes narrowed. Thatwas certainly not something she had been expecting. As the other stepped back, the Joker stepped forward. His ways of communication were the least of her ‘concerns’ at the moment.

"Okay, no doc, then." A grin came to her features as she tried to examine the wound, a natural habit of hers, the grinning. "I’m not going to hurt you, just let me see. We can’t have you dying, now can we?”

gloat-and-suffer:

 Just you know, missing an eye. No big deal. It’ll grow back. But he continued to pat over where it used to be - like a confused child almost. Black tar dripped from the wound, staining his face. « … »

      ♦ The Joker moved to the figure she only just now noticed, the figure that had some sort of substance dripping from it’s head. In her mind, any sort of injury from the collar up would mean death was around the corner.

"…" A small, worried smile as the tried to find words to give the other, refraining from touching him just yet. "Do you want me to call you a doctor? That doesn’t," noticing where his hand was, she swallowed hard, "look like somethin’ that feels the best.”

diem-ex-dei:

 // “OH— yes please.” The boy remarked as he tilted his head. The boy stepped over and held his hands behind his back. “Lead the way?” 

      ♦ A small laugh left the girl as she shook her head. “Oh, right. We’ve been speaking for ten minutes, of course I know where you live.” Moving in the direction he moved towards, she glanced back to the other.

"You say you’re armed, but you won’t pull it on me once I let my guard down, will you?” Not that she ever would, but for conversation’s sake.

diem-ex-dei:

 // The being paused, tilting his head. He hadn’t found offense to her words, and could tell with ease that she had been joking. “Ah—..” He bit the inside of his cheek before smiling. “I am armed though,” He told her. Though the mention of the gun and it’s inability to currently shoot wasn’t mentioned. 

      ♦ "Oh? Well, you certainly could have fooled me." Glancing about, the Joker drew closer to the golden-headed boy. "It’s getting late, and there are things even I can’t stand seeing when it gets dark around here.”

      ♦ The girl motioned in the direction from where she had came. “Want me to escort you back? You can never be too safe to travel in pairs.”

diem-ex-dei:

 // “I’m Andrew, Miss. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Did his appearance do something to irk her? Or perhaps his personality was one she found tedious?

      ♦ "Don’t call me ‘Miss,’ it makes me feel old." Which, despite her actual age, was still a very foreign feeling. "I’m a Joker, in case you were getting curious,” and in her current state, it wasn’t exactly a lie.

      ♦ "And a… a pleasure indeed, Andrew." A small smile, in hopes to ease what came next. "Now, you seem like a decent male. So why, pray tell, are you in this part of town? It isn’t exactly a place for the unarmed.”

diem-ex-dei:

 //  ”Did I do something to upset you?” He asked after a moment - bright eyes blinking before looking about and than back to her. 

      ♦ "Not on purpose, you didn’t." A small pause as she looked this one over. He seemed somewhat different from the others she has met. “And what do they call you?”

diem-ex-dei:

it’s amazing how easily a face could a p p e a r - - -

                                            && then d i s a p p e a r ❧ }

✦  sea-mygun 

 // “Good evening~.”

      ♦ "…" Well, that hadn’t worked out the way she hoped for. "Good… well, now average evening.” And what was this? Another one with golden hair.

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(Source: mister-self-destructive)

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