Post by Seaheart on Aug 14, 2009 0:44:39 GMT -5
Name: The Joker
Aliases: Clown Prince of Crime, Harlequin of Hate, Ace of Knaves
Fandom: Batman series
Picture:
Brief History: The Joker has no so called definitive history to speak of. Not one that he remembers anyway, which is what matters to him. Along with that, no birth records, fingerprints, or blood samples relate to a positive identity, which would make telling anyone a history of origin about the psychotic prankster a near crime unto itself. What can be told are the legends of how The Joker himself came to be, most of which follow along the two previous aliases of The Red Hood, and Jack. The most simple tale, which haunts both the children and adult community of Gotham to this day, is that of a no name chemical engineer, one day deciding to steal from the facility he works at, going under the persona of the Red Hood. Almost needless to say, the theft failed, hindered by the man in black himself, Batman. Now, not only did it fail, but apparently the Red Hood fell into a vat of chemicals, somehow surviving the toxic encounter, only to come out with chalk white skin, rose red lips, bleached green hair, and a permanent, one of a kind, clown grin.
Another, perhaps just as believable and even sympathetic to say the least, is of a man, referenced as Jack, who also worked as a chemical engineer, who decides to try and make it as a comedian. This occupation was apparently not to be his callin', and was soon unable to support his wife, and soon to be child. To amass funds, he agrees to help out two criminals break into the plant as to gain easier acess to a card company next door. In this sort of scam, the inside man is given the persona Red Hood, happening to be Jack. The twist in this would be tale is halfway through the heist, Jack is informed by a policeman that his wife, and inevitable child, died in a household accident. Hesitant and stricken with grief, the fellow criminals muscle Jack into working with them, the plan foiled by security guards, and an investigative Batman, whom Jack unfortunately runs into. Gripped with fear, he jumped over a railing, into a vat of chemicals, eventually washing up on a murky resorvoir. What he sees in a reflection is the dilluted image of a so-called 'man', with pale white skin, rose-red lips, and bleached green hair. This image, coupled along with the series of unfortunate events that occurred throughout the day, apparently drove Jack insane, birthing Gotham's gotta love clown, The Joker.
There are other tales and legends, some which involve corrupt cops, others spun by the near definitely insane Harley Quinn, and some that pop into the Joker's head, each imaginative and sometimes, even believable, as the next. Still, nothing is credible, and most likely never will be. What is proof positive though, are the facts in the seemingly long line of his criminal background, he has killed more than his fair share of police officers and innocent civilians, occasionally plotting it out so they practically did all the work for him, crippled Barbara Gordon aka Oracle, as well as kill Jason Todd, the second Robin. But most of all, he's given Batman a bitching time. While usually never quite succeeding in his plans due to the Caped Crusader, he tends to always remain one step ahead of him and avoiding capture, and even when it finally does come to that, Joker has proven to be quite the escape artist.
So in the end, it's not who Joker was, or how he became. It's who he is, and what he will do. And his plans are no longer limited to simply ridding the streets of Gotham of the petty criminals and wanna-bes so he can make way for the heavyweights and himself to cause some havoc. No no. With the gates to Alicuna, along with all the others worlds, The Joker would have to be out of his mind to not step up and contort the chaos. The possibilities are simply..... hilarious.
Personality: Psychologists worldwide, and in all likelihood, soon to be multi-universal wide, have argued over the motives, desires, base, and nuances of The Joker's persona. To be able to cause so much havoc and near constantly elude Gotham's greatest detective again..... and again..... and again, all the while keeping a constant, apparently insanity driven clown smile and laugh, in short, certainly does offer a discussion for the ages. He is most commonly stereotyped as a psycho sociopath, accompanied with a sadistic, perhaps even masochistic, sense of humor.
On a basic level, this is close to the truth as it gets. From a certain viewpoint, The Joker creates a new mentality everyday, a supersanity if you will, enabling him to do what benefits him most, ranging from being a a vicious killer one day, and a harmless clown the next. Another benefit of insanity, or at least the guise of such, is that time and time again, he is able to dodge the death penalty, despite the fact his crimes would allow him to receive the death penalty thousands of times over.
Speculations of Joker's mental state and persona could go on endlessly, so it may be time to wrap up this critique. Joker, in essence, is the anti-embodiment of Batman, which enables him to constantly be on top of his performance, to make allies of Batman's near inifnite amount of foes, and to always be one step ahead due to the fact has no rules, not even his own, while Batman does. This grants Joker the power to be totally unafraid, unremorseful, and perhaps most important, unpredictable.
Perhaps what the greatest weakness of his mentality is though, is the fact that by being the anti-embodiment of Batman, he cannot kill the Dark Knight. The Joker practically defines himself by his struggle with The Batman, and for this reason, while having no hesitance or remorse on destroying everything Batman may love, his sanity, or beating him within an inch of his life, The Joker will never be able to kill The Caped Crusader. He would even go as far as to intervene in the case there's a likely chance the tight-toting hero were to perish if not by the Joker's hand.
As far as anyone knows, despite the extremely conflicting personalities of the two, The Joker will most likely never kill Batman, and vice versa. Still, The Joker will constantly strive, and most likely succeed, in reigning as one of the greatest, murderous, sadistic supervillians the world, and soon universes, will ever have the experience of going up against. Even titles among the evil and villian community remark "If you want to scare a supervillian, tell a Joker story."
Roleplaying Sample: The night was like any other in Gotham City. Flashing lights, rave beats intertwining with eachother from miles around, men and women wearing skimpy and designer clothing in the metropolitan streets, while thieves and poverty stricken citizens glanced in envy, hatred, and sorrow from the damp, garbage ridden, smell of shit alleyways. It also wouldn't be the same Gotham if there weren't increasingly frequent explosions, blares from the memorable Gotham Police sirens, gunshots, the cackling of lunatics who managed a convenient escape from Arkham, and the screams of their victims. But near most important, it wouldn't be Gotham without the fear. There was alot to fear. Am I good looking enough? Am I going to get mugged? How badly will I be beaten when I get home tonight? How far was that gunshot? Why are they looking at me? Am I next in the series of brutal murders? WHAT HAS THE WORLD COME TO?
These were the questions that inspired fear in every single citizen of the dark utopia known as Gotham, and The Joker had the ever important, self given rite, of making sure the fear continued to grow, spread, infect, and to aspiringly bring it to the brink that he created a citywide paranoid insanity. He was the comedian, his acts of chaos were the joke, and their reaction was the punchline. His office could be anywhere in the city, tonight being the top of a well known skyscraper, granting him a sickly romantic view of all of Gotham's worst and finest.
Standing beside him on the dark blue, consumeristic driven titanic structure, was Harley Quinn; His lover, his sidekick, his betrayer, and the woman who often 'bailed' him out of Arkham Asylum, as she had done tonight. She had posed as a lawyer this time, coming under the guise to give The Joker a supposed chance of freedom if he went through rehabilitation. The story beezed through security, and it turned out, she was quite a generous lawyer and let her patient roam free without rehabilitation. She even gave him some of his old toys to play with, including his famed 'joy buzzer'. Escaping was child play from there, and now here they were, Joker in his usual purple and white, circus inspired attire, psychopathic reminiscent style flaunting the unusual and misplaced outfit perfectly. Harley was still in the strangely sexy secretary get-up, staring at Joker intensely, waiting for her lover to make a move.
He finally did, starting to look at her as well, taking slow, smooth steps toward he in his velvet, purple loafers, and placed a pale hand on her neck gently, still smiling, a fit of disturbing giggles no more than seconds from his lips. "Now listen Harley, and listen close. Gotham's favorite clown might be taking a bit of a vacation from his esteemed audience. I've been hearing a handful of rumors saying that out there, somewhere in beloved Gotham, is an entrance. An entrance to a place bare, and empty, and an even more dire shithole than this city. But that's okay! Ya know why Quinny?" The Joker tilted his head, and moved it closer to her similarly pale face and whispered, strangely audible despi the traffic and accompanying noises of a night in Gotham, "Because this place leads to whole new audiences, and opens up a whole new venue of performances for me. And you dear, and you. Along with all our cuddly, fluffy, hellbent on murder and explosives, peons. I'm sure they have some other wonderful prank-filled desires, but that's for another time. For now, I need to visit some old friends, maybe even pay a visit to classic Batty himself," Joker quickly snorted a bit, but with a simultaneous gleam of interst and desire in his eyes at the mention of Bruce, "and find out if this place exists, and directions to get there. All you have to do is lay down some chaos while I'm away. I might be gone for quite a bit. Can you handle that for me? Of course you can, what am I thinking?! It's not something I do very often!" The Joker laughed manicly to himself, the first time since escaping, and looked toward the edge of the building. "I oughta be going now toots, the city calls for me. And so does our new playground. Love you, don't have too much fun witout me!" With that, he kissed her smotheringly for a moment, looked down, and jumped, laughing uncontrollably now, falling at breakneck speed. Canisters of laughing gas emptied from his pocket as he fell, clanking onto the street, dispensing quickly enough that Joker fell into the haze of his own concontion. By the time the haze disappeared, and roaming citizens and bums were laughing near hysterically as Joker himsef, he was gone, not a trace to be found, save for a joker card, taped down on the spot he fell on. Somewhere in the distance, heard by many, now even more fearful citizens, was the insane, wretching call of, "The show has just begun ladies and gentleman!"
Aliases: Clown Prince of Crime, Harlequin of Hate, Ace of Knaves
Fandom: Batman series
Picture:
Brief History: The Joker has no so called definitive history to speak of. Not one that he remembers anyway, which is what matters to him. Along with that, no birth records, fingerprints, or blood samples relate to a positive identity, which would make telling anyone a history of origin about the psychotic prankster a near crime unto itself. What can be told are the legends of how The Joker himself came to be, most of which follow along the two previous aliases of The Red Hood, and Jack. The most simple tale, which haunts both the children and adult community of Gotham to this day, is that of a no name chemical engineer, one day deciding to steal from the facility he works at, going under the persona of the Red Hood. Almost needless to say, the theft failed, hindered by the man in black himself, Batman. Now, not only did it fail, but apparently the Red Hood fell into a vat of chemicals, somehow surviving the toxic encounter, only to come out with chalk white skin, rose red lips, bleached green hair, and a permanent, one of a kind, clown grin.
Another, perhaps just as believable and even sympathetic to say the least, is of a man, referenced as Jack, who also worked as a chemical engineer, who decides to try and make it as a comedian. This occupation was apparently not to be his callin', and was soon unable to support his wife, and soon to be child. To amass funds, he agrees to help out two criminals break into the plant as to gain easier acess to a card company next door. In this sort of scam, the inside man is given the persona Red Hood, happening to be Jack. The twist in this would be tale is halfway through the heist, Jack is informed by a policeman that his wife, and inevitable child, died in a household accident. Hesitant and stricken with grief, the fellow criminals muscle Jack into working with them, the plan foiled by security guards, and an investigative Batman, whom Jack unfortunately runs into. Gripped with fear, he jumped over a railing, into a vat of chemicals, eventually washing up on a murky resorvoir. What he sees in a reflection is the dilluted image of a so-called 'man', with pale white skin, rose-red lips, and bleached green hair. This image, coupled along with the series of unfortunate events that occurred throughout the day, apparently drove Jack insane, birthing Gotham's gotta love clown, The Joker.
There are other tales and legends, some which involve corrupt cops, others spun by the near definitely insane Harley Quinn, and some that pop into the Joker's head, each imaginative and sometimes, even believable, as the next. Still, nothing is credible, and most likely never will be. What is proof positive though, are the facts in the seemingly long line of his criminal background, he has killed more than his fair share of police officers and innocent civilians, occasionally plotting it out so they practically did all the work for him, crippled Barbara Gordon aka Oracle, as well as kill Jason Todd, the second Robin. But most of all, he's given Batman a bitching time. While usually never quite succeeding in his plans due to the Caped Crusader, he tends to always remain one step ahead of him and avoiding capture, and even when it finally does come to that, Joker has proven to be quite the escape artist.
So in the end, it's not who Joker was, or how he became. It's who he is, and what he will do. And his plans are no longer limited to simply ridding the streets of Gotham of the petty criminals and wanna-bes so he can make way for the heavyweights and himself to cause some havoc. No no. With the gates to Alicuna, along with all the others worlds, The Joker would have to be out of his mind to not step up and contort the chaos. The possibilities are simply..... hilarious.
Personality: Psychologists worldwide, and in all likelihood, soon to be multi-universal wide, have argued over the motives, desires, base, and nuances of The Joker's persona. To be able to cause so much havoc and near constantly elude Gotham's greatest detective again..... and again..... and again, all the while keeping a constant, apparently insanity driven clown smile and laugh, in short, certainly does offer a discussion for the ages. He is most commonly stereotyped as a psycho sociopath, accompanied with a sadistic, perhaps even masochistic, sense of humor.
On a basic level, this is close to the truth as it gets. From a certain viewpoint, The Joker creates a new mentality everyday, a supersanity if you will, enabling him to do what benefits him most, ranging from being a a vicious killer one day, and a harmless clown the next. Another benefit of insanity, or at least the guise of such, is that time and time again, he is able to dodge the death penalty, despite the fact his crimes would allow him to receive the death penalty thousands of times over.
Speculations of Joker's mental state and persona could go on endlessly, so it may be time to wrap up this critique. Joker, in essence, is the anti-embodiment of Batman, which enables him to constantly be on top of his performance, to make allies of Batman's near inifnite amount of foes, and to always be one step ahead due to the fact has no rules, not even his own, while Batman does. This grants Joker the power to be totally unafraid, unremorseful, and perhaps most important, unpredictable.
Perhaps what the greatest weakness of his mentality is though, is the fact that by being the anti-embodiment of Batman, he cannot kill the Dark Knight. The Joker practically defines himself by his struggle with The Batman, and for this reason, while having no hesitance or remorse on destroying everything Batman may love, his sanity, or beating him within an inch of his life, The Joker will never be able to kill The Caped Crusader. He would even go as far as to intervene in the case there's a likely chance the tight-toting hero were to perish if not by the Joker's hand.
As far as anyone knows, despite the extremely conflicting personalities of the two, The Joker will most likely never kill Batman, and vice versa. Still, The Joker will constantly strive, and most likely succeed, in reigning as one of the greatest, murderous, sadistic supervillians the world, and soon universes, will ever have the experience of going up against. Even titles among the evil and villian community remark "If you want to scare a supervillian, tell a Joker story."
Roleplaying Sample: The night was like any other in Gotham City. Flashing lights, rave beats intertwining with eachother from miles around, men and women wearing skimpy and designer clothing in the metropolitan streets, while thieves and poverty stricken citizens glanced in envy, hatred, and sorrow from the damp, garbage ridden, smell of shit alleyways. It also wouldn't be the same Gotham if there weren't increasingly frequent explosions, blares from the memorable Gotham Police sirens, gunshots, the cackling of lunatics who managed a convenient escape from Arkham, and the screams of their victims. But near most important, it wouldn't be Gotham without the fear. There was alot to fear. Am I good looking enough? Am I going to get mugged? How badly will I be beaten when I get home tonight? How far was that gunshot? Why are they looking at me? Am I next in the series of brutal murders? WHAT HAS THE WORLD COME TO?
These were the questions that inspired fear in every single citizen of the dark utopia known as Gotham, and The Joker had the ever important, self given rite, of making sure the fear continued to grow, spread, infect, and to aspiringly bring it to the brink that he created a citywide paranoid insanity. He was the comedian, his acts of chaos were the joke, and their reaction was the punchline. His office could be anywhere in the city, tonight being the top of a well known skyscraper, granting him a sickly romantic view of all of Gotham's worst and finest.
Standing beside him on the dark blue, consumeristic driven titanic structure, was Harley Quinn; His lover, his sidekick, his betrayer, and the woman who often 'bailed' him out of Arkham Asylum, as she had done tonight. She had posed as a lawyer this time, coming under the guise to give The Joker a supposed chance of freedom if he went through rehabilitation. The story beezed through security, and it turned out, she was quite a generous lawyer and let her patient roam free without rehabilitation. She even gave him some of his old toys to play with, including his famed 'joy buzzer'. Escaping was child play from there, and now here they were, Joker in his usual purple and white, circus inspired attire, psychopathic reminiscent style flaunting the unusual and misplaced outfit perfectly. Harley was still in the strangely sexy secretary get-up, staring at Joker intensely, waiting for her lover to make a move.
He finally did, starting to look at her as well, taking slow, smooth steps toward he in his velvet, purple loafers, and placed a pale hand on her neck gently, still smiling, a fit of disturbing giggles no more than seconds from his lips. "Now listen Harley, and listen close. Gotham's favorite clown might be taking a bit of a vacation from his esteemed audience. I've been hearing a handful of rumors saying that out there, somewhere in beloved Gotham, is an entrance. An entrance to a place bare, and empty, and an even more dire shithole than this city. But that's okay! Ya know why Quinny?" The Joker tilted his head, and moved it closer to her similarly pale face and whispered, strangely audible despi the traffic and accompanying noises of a night in Gotham, "Because this place leads to whole new audiences, and opens up a whole new venue of performances for me. And you dear, and you. Along with all our cuddly, fluffy, hellbent on murder and explosives, peons. I'm sure they have some other wonderful prank-filled desires, but that's for another time. For now, I need to visit some old friends, maybe even pay a visit to classic Batty himself," Joker quickly snorted a bit, but with a simultaneous gleam of interst and desire in his eyes at the mention of Bruce, "and find out if this place exists, and directions to get there. All you have to do is lay down some chaos while I'm away. I might be gone for quite a bit. Can you handle that for me? Of course you can, what am I thinking?! It's not something I do very often!" The Joker laughed manicly to himself, the first time since escaping, and looked toward the edge of the building. "I oughta be going now toots, the city calls for me. And so does our new playground. Love you, don't have too much fun witout me!" With that, he kissed her smotheringly for a moment, looked down, and jumped, laughing uncontrollably now, falling at breakneck speed. Canisters of laughing gas emptied from his pocket as he fell, clanking onto the street, dispensing quickly enough that Joker fell into the haze of his own concontion. By the time the haze disappeared, and roaming citizens and bums were laughing near hysterically as Joker himsef, he was gone, not a trace to be found, save for a joker card, taped down on the spot he fell on. Somewhere in the distance, heard by many, now even more fearful citizens, was the insane, wretching call of, "The show has just begun ladies and gentleman!"