The Joker (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ace_of_knaves) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sirenspull_logs2012-02-24 09:51 pm
ace_of_knaves) wrote in sirenspull_logs2012-02-24 09:51 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Who: Peter and the Joker
When: Evening, before Sirens
Where: The Roof of Peter's apartment
Summary: The Joker lures a police tail after him...just so he can have Voids close by when he draws Peter up to the roof...
Warnings: Violence, shenanigans, Joker
The red corvette spun around the corner on two wheels, nearly running down a man who was rushing his two children home before the sirens rang. That was the adorable thing about Sector Four to the Joker; it was such a wholesome place in the light of day. At night it was still part of the Port. It was the place family dreams went to die.
Joker wrenched sharply at the wheel of the corvette and glanced back at the trail of police cars behind him. The officer in the front car was yelling something at him but he did not bother listening. The officer had told him his name but Joker had not listened to that either. Guy had a funny nose, though. It was big, bulbous and red. Joker liked the nose.
"'Scuse me!" this was shouted to a pedestrian as he spun around another corner and ground to a halt, hitting a fire hydrant. The corvette failed to knock the metal aside which was disappointing. But the roof was already down and this allowed the Joker to leap nimbly from the vehicle and run for the nearest apartment building. Convenient things, removable roofs. He made a mental note to visit the late Doctor Slavkov's grave and thank him for the car.
The apartment was Joker's real target. Somewhere inside was Peter, a man important to Sylar. Sylar. The name alone raised the poison in his veins. Unfortunately, Sylar had made it clear that he didn't care about living or dying. So that meant going after his little nemesis...it was a more worthy vengeance, anyway. It was something The Persian would not have thought up.
Joker reached out and grabbed a thin, weasely man who was trying to slink away from the sidewalk. The clown's eyes were electric with malicious intent and the man lifted his hands, energy crackling at his fingertips. The glow lasted for only a moment before fizzling.
The Police Voids are in range. Good.
Joker dragged the man over to the apartment's fire escape. "Nothing personal, old chum, you're just a hostage. You know how it is when the fuzz is on your keister."
Of course, this has nothing to do with the cops either. And everything to do with Peter!
"STOP!" yelled Officer Nose, pulling over next to the abandoned corvette. Joker was already half way up the fire escape with his hostage locked in his grip. This was easy for him. When you've run up and down buildings being chased by the Bat, nothing else compared.
"PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR!"
Or maybe it was "hair". Joker wasn't listening again. He dragged the squirming weasel to the edge of the roof and dangled him.
"CALL OFF YOUR BOYS, FUNNY FACE!" Joker yowled down at Nose. "OR THE CORONER WILL BE PICKING THE ASPHALT OUTTA THIS GUY'S TEETH!"
Come on out, Peter. Come stop the Big, Bad Clown.
When: Evening, before Sirens
Where: The Roof of Peter's apartment
Summary: The Joker lures a police tail after him...just so he can have Voids close by when he draws Peter up to the roof...
Warnings: Violence, shenanigans, Joker
The red corvette spun around the corner on two wheels, nearly running down a man who was rushing his two children home before the sirens rang. That was the adorable thing about Sector Four to the Joker; it was such a wholesome place in the light of day. At night it was still part of the Port. It was the place family dreams went to die.
Joker wrenched sharply at the wheel of the corvette and glanced back at the trail of police cars behind him. The officer in the front car was yelling something at him but he did not bother listening. The officer had told him his name but Joker had not listened to that either. Guy had a funny nose, though. It was big, bulbous and red. Joker liked the nose.
"'Scuse me!" this was shouted to a pedestrian as he spun around another corner and ground to a halt, hitting a fire hydrant. The corvette failed to knock the metal aside which was disappointing. But the roof was already down and this allowed the Joker to leap nimbly from the vehicle and run for the nearest apartment building. Convenient things, removable roofs. He made a mental note to visit the late Doctor Slavkov's grave and thank him for the car.
The apartment was Joker's real target. Somewhere inside was Peter, a man important to Sylar. Sylar. The name alone raised the poison in his veins. Unfortunately, Sylar had made it clear that he didn't care about living or dying. So that meant going after his little nemesis...it was a more worthy vengeance, anyway. It was something The Persian would not have thought up.
Joker reached out and grabbed a thin, weasely man who was trying to slink away from the sidewalk. The clown's eyes were electric with malicious intent and the man lifted his hands, energy crackling at his fingertips. The glow lasted for only a moment before fizzling.
The Police Voids are in range. Good.
Joker dragged the man over to the apartment's fire escape. "Nothing personal, old chum, you're just a hostage. You know how it is when the fuzz is on your keister."
Of course, this has nothing to do with the cops either. And everything to do with Peter!
"STOP!" yelled Officer Nose, pulling over next to the abandoned corvette. Joker was already half way up the fire escape with his hostage locked in his grip. This was easy for him. When you've run up and down buildings being chased by the Bat, nothing else compared.
"PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR!"
Or maybe it was "hair". Joker wasn't listening again. He dragged the squirming weasel to the edge of the roof and dangled him.
"CALL OFF YOUR BOYS, FUNNY FACE!" Joker yowled down at Nose. "OR THE CORONER WILL BE PICKING THE ASPHALT OUTTA THIS GUY'S TEETH!"
Come on out, Peter. Come stop the Big, Bad Clown.
no subject
But his thoughts are interrupted by Sylar's story and Peter blinks sleepily, shifting his gaze from the collar to Sylar's face as he listens. And while it's not so much a story as it is some kind of explanation, a further understanding of their connection, it's all Peter can do to keep from squirming as the other man's fingers slide down his arm, shifting under the sheets.
"I- Sylar." Back to chewing on his lower lip, he's still got his fingers wrapped around the collar, almost possessively, in the same way that Sylar seemingly has Peter wrapped possessively around his own fingers.
"Can I think I about it?" Because he knows if he makes a decision now, it might be one he regrets out of sheer sleepiness, the need to rest pulling at his conscious and tugging on his eyelids. Slowly, he uncurls his fingers, sliding his arm back down against Sylar's hand until he has it safely tucked under the covers. But he's still staring, still looking up at Sylar, still thinking with eyes that are barely staying open. "I'll think about it, okay? I promise, I just--" Rubbing at his face, and going quiet for a second, the pull of sleep was suddenly atrociously strong. "I'm tired."
no subject
So he let Peter recoil his hand, and he looked right back, his own eyes part lidden, and he raised his own abandoned hand up from the space between them, and brushed Peter's drying hair back out of his eyes, not forcing himself to stop halfway this time.
"You've had a difficult day, I don't blame you for wanting to sleep it off." He drew his hand back, still without even a flicker of a smile. "If you feel short of breath wake me up."
no subject
"Yeah, sure," is the last thing he manages to mumble before he's nosing into his pillow and falling asleep, a little bit less curled into a ball than he originally planned on, but asleep nonetheless.