from beneath a pile of blankets a color drained clown groaned miserably, the sound somewhat muffled by the assortment pretty plastic bobbles filling up the half deflated kitty pool they laid in haphazardly.
The clown in question was Gotham's very own mage of mischief. and much as pain played into his game he absolutely HATED being sick.
Funny thing was, Jay didn't ever get sick. Period.
With the slew of mystery chemicals constantly floating around in his blood he'd always thought he'd be immune to something as innocuous as a cold. yet here he was stewing in misery, surrounded by a sea of used tissues.To say this was the first time he'd spent the wee hours of the night feeling like garbage would be a lie, but it was definitely the first time he'd felt so unprepared for an ailment.
All that considered, He wouldn't mind the discomfort if he wasn't so hopelessly bored and... not to mention... alone.
Harley, who was probably busy gardening at the moment, hadn't answered his calls and none of the other rogues would bother coming to his aid if he asked... they didn't like him very much. He didn't know why and hardly cared but right now he honestly wished he was better at making friends. Of course, Bud, his lovely hyena who was snoring audibly in the other corner of the room, kept him company on long lonely days, but a dog's unconditional love could only go so far.
He'd been in his room for hours at this point but as the bat shaped clock on his wall struck 1:00 Jay finally decided he'd had enough.
Throwing the blankets aside, sending foam balls bouncing around the room in the process, Jay sat up, hair a mess, rings around his tired eyes, and stood. Trying his best to ignore the how the world spun like a fun top.
He didn't need Harley or ANY of those other stupid bozo's. He could fend for himself just fine and he wasn't about to let some stupid head cold keep him down. Without any further thought Jay grabbed his coat, put on shoes, and headed out the door with a pop-gun in his pocket, looking an absolute mess. Grateful for Gotham's shady midnight darkness
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It didn't take long for the clown to reach his destination, Nite-aid pharmaceuticals was right down the street, just close enough to glide the whole way on a pair of unsteady heelys.
When he entered the store the place was mostly empty except for a few unfortunate stragglers. Night owls looking for late-night smokes and liquor as busted fluorescent lights buzzed and flickered above them... A few patrons turned to glance at him warily, not recognizing the clown out of makeup but suspicious nonetheless. Their failure to turn-tail at first sight would be a mistake they'd soon regret as the unkempt clown lifted his pop-gun in the air and lazily pulled it's trigger.
Now a normal play pistol would've gone off with an amusingly harmless pop, but Jay liked to personalize his toys. When the cork shot out the sound pierced through the nights silence like a firecracker, a waft of confetti and billowing green smoke flying up with it in an explosion of noxious, candy scented, color.
The fumes quickly spread through the small store, hot boxing it with chemicals that sent all who breathed it into a frenzied fit. The few unlucky customers present dropped anything they held and nearly toppled over each other as they ran screaming with laughter into the night.
At the back though, a store clerk, who seemed to be bared behind his counter, gagged and giggled as he writhed on the floor with his arms clenched around his sids, too disoriented by now to jump to freedom or even unlatch the door leading out.
As Joker came closer the man backed up, amused yet scared half to death of what would happen as the clown peered over the counter and examined him silently.
