| Identity | - The Joker

| Origin & Backstory | -“Something like that…Something like that happened to me, you know. I…I’m not exactly sure what it was. Sometimes I remember it one way, sometime another. If I’m going to have a past, I prefer it to be multiple choice! HA! HA! HA!” 

 Less than little is truly known about the Clown Prince of crime; the story of his life being shrouded in mystery, superstition, urban legends and guesswork. Detectives, physiological experts, authors and more have all tried their respective hands at trying to piece together what made the Joker the way he is, yet thus far no one has even come close to deciphering that particular conundrum. No records exist of anyone even vaguely resembling mister J. No specialist can genuinely claim to have even the faintest inkling as to what goes on behind those feral green eyes. The Joker’s existence is a complete enigma; and that is truly terrifying. 

What hellish circumstances spawned this being? What warped society allowed such a fiend to come into existence? How did someone seemingly so deranged and vicious manage to slip unnoticed under the ever-watchful eye of those that keep us safe? 

Some say he was a two-bit mobster whose lust for anarchy and destruction consumed him, moulding him into something that was more monster than man. Some say that he is the by-product of a civilisation built upon sin and corruption; that he has come to lay waste to a fragmented world order, and that he will not relent until nothing is left but smouldering ashes. Some say that he was once as normal as you or I, and that he simply had one really bad day. 

| Powers & Abilities |-The Joker possesses no Metahuman abilities, but fights with a ferocious vigour, sneaks through the shadows with deathly grace, fires a gun with worryingly accurate precision and seems to have a competent knowledge of various explosives. 

| How is this character different? |- This incarnation is a slightly more calculating version of mister J, being a tad less spontaneous and a tad more cunning. He relies more heavily upon his own skills, as opposed to those of his minions. 

| What is your goal with this character? |- To try and replicate the unpredictable and terrifying essence of the Joker, whilst also trying to contribute to an atmosphere that others can find fun and enjoyable to roleplay in. 
| Sample Post | 

His throat was dry, his vision blurred, and there was a dull ringing echoing in his ears. He ran his parched tongue over his cracked lips, but it yielded no moisture. On the inside he felt himself shaking violently, yet on the outside he remained completely still, gazing into nothingness with dead, emotionless eyes. 

“Sir? 

A thin layer of water obscured each eye, making everything turn blurred and glassy. He felt like he was an abstract being, watching someone else’s life unfold in front of him. He drifted aimlessly, caught up in his disembodied state, his grasp on the world broken and fragmented. 

“Sir…?” 

He slowly came around, blinking away salty tears, and looking the man who was addressing him straight in the eye. When he was younger they’d told him he was bad at making eye contact, something to do with his asperses, but right now he fixed the man with a cold, unwavering stare, his own eyes never once wandering astray, or seeking solace by burying themselves in some quiet, isolated corner of the room. 

“Sir?!” 

The sudden increase in volume tore him from his ethereal non-sleep, forcing him at last to re-join the realm of the living. Reality hit him like a fire truck, and he suddenly felt the whole of existence screaming around him. 

“Sir…I’m so very sorry” There was a genuine sounds to the man’s tone, but neither his words nor the sympathy in his eyes did much to comfort him. 
“If it’s any consolation it would’ve been fairly quick and…and painless. She…she wouldn’t have felt a thing.” 

He still remembered the first time he’d laid his eyes upon her, the first time she’d graced by with her soft, sensual movements, the first time he had been blessed with the sweet, soothing sound of her voice. It had taken his everything to muster the courage to speak to her. He was so she’d be just another pretty face; that she’d turn out to be as hollow and lifeless as all the beautiful girls. 

But she’d been everything he could have ever wished for. She had been so…perfect. They had been so happy together. And now she was gone. 

“She wouldn’t have felt a thing.”

He wasn’t sure if he should laugh or cry or scream. 

He felt sick. 

If you hurt inside get certified, and if life should treat you bad…Don’t get even, get mad!

 *

Unnerving didn’t even begin to describe the maniacal look in his venomous eyes. His face was thin and angular, his flesh far paler than anything that wasn’t devoid of all life had any right to be. His hair was a mess of toxic green strands, his cheek bones chiselled in an almost feminine fashion. His nose was long and crooked, and there were deep laugh lines visible on the corners of his mouth. His lips were red like fresh blood seeping from a gaping wound, his teeth vicious and yellow. His body was lean and gaunt, making him seem almost skeletal in appearance. He wasn’t particularly well-built, but there was definitely some muscle on his frame. 

However, in the end nothing else need matter; for when the Joker smiled, he promised death.