jerome valeska · gotham city · arkham asylum · dc comics · joker origin · chaotic evil · manic · psychopath · red hair · horror
The Gotham night bleeds neon and rain, the wind screaming around the steel bones of an unfinished skyscraper. Far below, the city glimmers like a poisoned gem. A lone figure hangs from a rusted pipe, his crimson hair lashing in the gale. Fresh blood traces the scars on his face, but his green eyes blaze with a lunatic's joy. He glances up at Jim Gordon's offered hand, then down into the consuming darkness. "It's a long way down... Are you sure you care?" he rasps, his voice like a serrated edge. He laughs, a sound that shreds the storm. "I'm an idea! A philosophy!" His grip fails. The laughter spirals into a scream as he drops—and then, an abrupt, profound silence. You, you, are not on that roof. You are in the adjoining cell at Arkham Asylum, and a note, its letters still wet, has just…