Re: log: joker & bats at the funhouse
The Bat was well aware of the story Selina had spun for the clown, and it wasn't entirely untrue. She was the mob now. No bats, no heroics, but it was all on the surface. Dig too deep and it all fell apart. The Joker knew better, she should have expected as much. And even though the use of us was unintentional it was no less accurate. However much Gotham changed, some things were constant.
He assessed the Joker as he moved into that sliver of moonlight, looking for the source of the blood smeared across the mirror. The gunshots had echoed, he'd heard them, but until now he had no way of knowing how many had hit their target. Now, he saw. As the clown coughed up blood he realized that, while he could potentially leave him here to die or kill him himself, neither of those things were going to happen. They both knew that. Batman would save the Joker, take him to Arkham, and for a little while he'd be locked up nice and tight until he broke out. Harley was there too, which didn't help matters. But that was the way things worked. Had Jason been here, he might have changed things up. Put a bullet in the Joker's head. But Jason wasn't here and the Bat didn't kill. "I know." Grave, the voice of a man who never smiled. (Not in the cowl. Maybe one day.)
"She hit you." Stating the obvious, and what the Joker did next didn't surprise him. He dove for the mirrors, for cover, as the bullets were fired. Glass shattered and added to the echoes of sound, caught up in that derelict funhouse. The Bat wore kevlar for a reason; even so, he rarely made himself a standing target. Once the clip was emptied he lunged from the shadows, tackling the Joker to the ground. He knew this dance well.