Arkham: Case Files
patientzeroish for The Joker
Love him or hate him, he's in this series. The Joker in this interpretation is just as much of a flamboyant showman as he is a walking contagion of madness. His skin is a parchment pallor, stretched thin over sharp cheekbones, with the faint sheen of someone who sweats when there’s no reason to. His eyes don’t dart, they creep across a room, slow and searching, like a predator deciding which part of you to eat. He smells faintly of bleach and something rotting sweet. When he smiles, it’s never for joy. It's only to show you that he’s thinking of something you’ll never want to hear.
His voice should ooze the same sickness that drips from his mind. Calm one moment, jaggedly loud the next. He speaks as though the conversation is a game only he knows the rules to, savoring certain words like they’re candy, and cutting others short like a knife. There’s a twisted joy in everything he says, especially when the air is quiet in discomfort.
Keep in mind that I'd prefer an original take on Joker. It can be reminicent of past interpretations, but I don't just want exact imitations of Mark Hamil or Heath Ledger.
"You know what the funniest thing about a scream is? …It’s free. You don’t have to buy it, you don’t have to earn it—people just give it to you… if you press the right buttons."
"Some people say laughter’s the best medicine. I think they’re wrong. Pain is. It cures boredom, loneliness, the works. The trick is… you just have to be willing to share it."
"I once kept a man laughing for… oh, hours. His ribs broke after the first twenty minutes. But he still laughed. Because I told him if he stopped, I’d let him see what was inside him.. And I don’t mean emotionally."
