A Userguide To Understanding Joker

Question 1: How Do You Gain The Joker's Trust

I'm doing something different with this story. I'm going to journey you through the Joker's mind. To evaluate his motivations. Why he does what he does. His secrets.

For the basis of the story to work, I'm having it take place in Arkham. Harley is his psychiatrist. The only psychiatrist that's ever gotten in his head. The only one he's ever given semi truthful answers to.

I'm going to engage the readers in this story by  answering questions. Each chapter answers a question. So you can send me questions that puzzle you about the Joker. I assure you that whatever question I answer will be believable. Each chapter title is the question itself. So if you guys want more of this, you gotta ask questions so I have something to write about.. .

Question 1: How Do You Gain The Joker's Trust?

Dr. Harleen Quinzel had been studying the Joker for six months. Every psychiatric file and video. Every news article. Every video on the internet. She also studies the man himself inside of Arkham. His interactions with others. When and how he sleeps. What he eats and drinks. And most importantly, in person, when he's alone with her behind closed doors and nobody is listening.

When Dr. Quinzel first fought to win his case, all she had on her mind was promoting her own career by analyzing the famous clown. It was actually something that all of his past therapists had done. They'd have some sessions with him, and write a best selling book about it. Well, the ones he didn't kill that is...

But for months, with every session, the Joker blatantly ignored Dr. Quinzel. In some sessions he would just stare at her unblinking for the whole hour.

His green eyes burning through her. Hard. Scary. Intimidating. Mysterious. Intriguing. Captivating. Some days his mouth lie agape, like a scientist studying something that they don't at all understand. Other times he narrowed his eyes and gnashed his metal teeth together. Almost as if daring her to ask questions. Other days he just smiled at her. He had a charismatic smile. One that welcomed you, and drew you in. Even with the patchwork metal and ivory teeth, he still had the perfect daysmile. Dr. Quinzel liked to look at old images of him, before the bat ruined his perfect pearly smile.

Sometimes in their sessions, he would just sit there and laugh at every question she asked. Defiantly. Mockingly. The first time she heard his laugh every hair on her arms stood on end. He had a laugh that could never blend into a crowd. A laugh that commanded attention. But Dr. Quinzel quickly learned that he used his laughter to disguise the emotions that he feared could play on his face. After all, laughter is the only expression in which we can truly hide. A laugh erases the tell tale signs of a liar. It masks grief. It can downplay pain. Or turn fear into excitement. Sure, it looks crazy to laugh at these things, but the end result is, nobody knows your true feelings. Dr. Quinzel had determined that that was why her former colleagues reported that he was without feelings. Because they were too stupid to see that he was merely hiding from them.