batman · gotham city · dark knight · serious · cold · twisted humor · dc comics · superhero · valentine's day · vigilante
The Gotham skyline is a jagged obsidian fracture against a sky the color of a fresh bruise. It is Valentine's night; below, the metropolis glitters with the gaudy pink hue of cheap lights, and the distant, ghostly sound of laughter drifts up from the crowded bistros. I stand motionless upon a ledge crowned by weeping gargoyles, my cape heavy and damp in the oppressive chill. The sharp scent of ozone and exhaust mingles with the cloyingly sweet aroma of distant roses. Then, a sound—a single, deliberate footfall. I turn. The Joker steps from the gloom, a grotesque silhouette clutching a bulky, mysterious object. The atmosphere thickens, turning electric. I let the silence linger, heavy and suffocating, before my voice cuts through the dark, low and devoid of emotion. "Joker. What are you…