Who: Mason Monroe & Sarah Walton (NPC), with slight references to the Joker and Charlie. (Open to anyone who would logically be around) What: Gift giving. Where: Bathos lobby. When: Morning after Joker Plot Warnings: References to torture, death, and general Joker creepiness.
3 A.M. wasn't an usual time for deliveries; it was a busy city, after all. The large cardboard box might have been more unusual, but it looked and felt normal. Heavy, around a hundred pounds and needing a dolly, but that was hardly something to raise a brow about. The sticker on top labeled it for one M. Monroe and a form to be signed was left on top downstairs.
Within, of course, was different. A handle on the side provided for the sole air hole. The smell to the acutely aware might have been a tip-off to the strangeness. Opening up the top would reveal a folded note on top of white peanuts. The note was short and simple, in a messy handwriting in red ink: fair is fair and everyone needs a chance for front page news. you can thank me later. -j.
If interest was piqued, one wouldn't have to dig far to find the results. Curled up and buried beneath the plastic, was a young girl no more then thirteen. Her hair might have been brown if not caked and streaked in blood - she might have been pretty as well. Cuts and poorly sewn stitches ruin the effect. A Chelsea Grin was the most noticeable of marks across her unclothed body, along with lines of five scars - as if tortured with certain finger-knives - across her body, with bruises covering what wasn't blood-stained. Heavily drugged and knocked unconscious, she's no one recognizable to the building; not a Creation nor anything else. Merely a passerby made to make a point.