Re: log: joker & bats at the funhouse
The funhouse, like the rest of Amusement Mile, was nothing more or less than the Bat expected. Like explosions and blood, death and the macabre, the Joker consisted of his own set of certainties which remained as constant as the dynamic between the two. Blowing up the Ferris wheel hadn't been necessary, but necessity didn't factor in. It hadn't been necessary to use Selina to lure him out either, yet here they were.
She deserved better than being used as bait. She deserved better than him, but no one listened, and now was neither the time nor the place to dwell on that.
Inside, the darkness was more welcoming than it was threatening. The Bat had always favored shadows, the dark, over the light, and even the smell of mildew didn't bother him. Smoke curled as he moved forward, undaunted; perhaps once, long ago, people had laughed as they traversed the attraction, struggling to cross the sliding grates, swatting at the punching bags, studying their warped reflections in the mirrors. But there was no laughter here now, and he wasn't amused. The moving metal suddenly appearing where the carpet was? A minor irritation. He barely faltered. The punching bags were woven between as smooth and quiet as the slide of water, and he only slowed once he reached the line of mirrors.
Beyond was a whole of deeper darkness, his true destination. His reflections twisted and blurred alongside him but he paid no attention, though he did take note of the blood. The Bat stopped, the yawning black of the doorway a mere few feet from the tips of his boots.
"You didn't need her." His voice was ever the same, gravelly and flat. "She's moved on from the likes of us. Found new friends." He took one step to the side, the start of a careful approach forward; he was ready to react at a second's notice.