plotting to unnerve her

[self_composed]

Bella finds Milliways in the moon palace instead of one of her balconies.

"Huh," she says aloud.

Then, to Alice, Libby, Elena, and Mary, and Lazarus except he autoreplies with a busy message, [Hey folks, Moonstone Palace grew a bar that I don't remember putting in, come check it out.]

Comments

[self_composed]

Bella's poking at the emotion-blob tentatively, occasionally, because while they form their own coherent visual language, she doesn't fully know how to read them yet. She puts up with it for brief flashes. She doesn't like it. It... tastes different, from when he made stars.

When she first helped him make stars, he told her - that if there were mixed feelings - and she couldn't get a good answer out of him - that she should stop. And he's arranged not to produce answers for her.

He doesn't have a setup like that with the Joker. She wouldn't trust the Joker to stick to one if he did.

If it gets any worse than it did before - if it gets even that bad, and the Joker doesn't recalibrate and back off as before - she's invoking this as her justification for teleporting Roberta upstairs.

"When this is over with," Bella says, "I might ask you to hold the door for me so I can put some amenities and a person on an asteroid."

[edgeofyourseat]

"Sure," says Roberta. "As long as you don't let the Joker—or, no offense, your boyfriend—get a good look at my face. Even if I'm never going to see either of them again, I don't want this identity involved."

The affect auras on Alice's thoughts right now are a collective mess. Most of his sensory experience gets a murky grey-white-grey with threads of black; some things, like his continued awareness of the Joker as present and causing all this, get snowy white.

He does want to be here, though. He hasn't stopped knowing that. He wants to be here, doing this, feeling like this. Even though it's awful; partly, in fact, because it's awful.

[self_composed]

As long as he continues unambiguously wanting to be there Bella is sitting tight. Even if it makes her want to cry.

"I can do that," Bella says. "Would you rather be in a bat suit right now? Or, you know, would you rather duck into the bathroom and come out in one? Does this place even have a bathroom?"

[edgeofyourseat]

"It's been known to," says Roberta. "But I think I'll sit tight for now. The suit draws attention, and I don't want any more attention than I've got."

[self_composed]

"Okay."

Bella sits. And waits.

[edgeofyourseat]

Alice suffers. And wants to. And feels ten kinds of fucked up about it, but somehow, just having the Joker there makes that better.

[manofmyword]

And, eventually, he kisses the back of Alice's neck and rolls off him and wraps him up in a hug.

"I gotcha, sweetie," he murmurs. "I was there, I know. You're okay. It's okay. You're okay."

[edgeofyourseat]

He sniffles a little, but he doesn't start crying again. And he lets himself heal from the slice in his hip; it's worth a pentagon when it goes.

"How do you deal?" he mumbles into the Joker's chest.

[manofmyword]

"It took a while," he says, kissing the top of Alice's head. "And it hurt, and I felt all fucked up, and I didn't really know what was going on in my head. Sound familiar?"

[edgeofyourseat]

He snorts. "Yeah, just a little."

[manofmyword]

"Yeah." He grins. "So. You wanna know the secret?"

[edgeofyourseat]

"There is no secret," Alice says tiredly.

[self_composed]

"Now they're doing some kind of bizarre alternate-versions-of-the-same-person therapy," Bella says. "This might be weirder."

[manofmyword]

"Almost," says the Joker.

"There is one thing, though." He takes a breath, lets it out. "You have to forgive yourself for hurting," he says softly.

[edgeofyourseat]

That doesn't make any sense.

"That doesn't make any sense," says Alice.



"I am deeply worried about anyone getting therapy from the Joker," says Roberta.

[self_composed]

"I am too. So far it's looking like advice I might have given myself if I'd ever thought of it, though. Maybe I should have thought of it, or tried to. I dunno. He always seemed functional enough to me, but..."

[edgeofyourseat]

"...If anything, I'm even more worried about the Joker giving someone good advice," says Roberta.

[manofmyword]

"Think about it," says the Joker, kissing Alice's forehead. "I'll wait."

[edgeofyourseat]

Okay, so he does.

And...

It doesn't come clear all at once; it does it in pieces, slowly, here and there. The fact that he gets mad at himself when something is fucking with him, like he thinks he should be better than that. But he's not; nobody is. By admission, his ballpark-of-thirty alternate future self isn't either. The fact that he's still half convinced that he brought this shit on himself the first time, even though he knows with crystal clarity that that is bullshit. The fact that despite not really believing things can be wrong with people in general, he thinks there's something wrong with him for what he just asked the Joker to do, for wanting that, for getting off on it when it happened for real.

"Oh," he murmurs.

[self_composed]

"Why?" Bella asks Roberta, genuinely curious.

[edgeofyourseat]

"Because if he's giving someone bad advice it's easier to guess why," Roberta explains.

[manofmyword]

"Yeah. Oh."

He hugs Alice a little closer.

"You okay?"

[edgeofyourseat]

"Mhm," he sighs, curling up in the Joker's arms, and he takes down his busy message.

(He wonders if she's mad at him. Probably. Only one way to find out, though.)

[self_composed]

Bella doesn't trust herself to talk to Alice right now, not if he's not going to talk to her first.

"Is it really? He seems to mostly run on a desire to see how people who interest him will react to things. I think he has enough background information on Alice that it's entirely possible giving him good advice is more interesting in that way."

[edgeofyourseat]

...Roberta looks unsettled.



Alice is a little confused when some time goes by and Bella doesn't say anything. But he can't think of a thing in the world to say to her, so maybe she's having the same problem. He'll leave it.