Too much is happening, too quickly. It’s easy to pretend, in the moment, that it’s not overwhelming, but at times like this it’s only by writing it down can I make it fit together in a way that’s easy to grasp.
I escaped the police, as expected, and immediately found out that their attention was the least of my problems. A secret group with an incredible interest in securing my loyalty made contact three times, offering me a taste of my old life.
They can suppress the damage. I confirmed at least part of this with the doctor before I tried it, and it works. The neurological and nerve damage both seem to fade: facial muscles relax, the involuntary tightening of the throat muscles, and even the damned giggling.
It only lasts a while, but another doctor has the facilities and drive to make more. He’s got one hell of a reputation, but he also recently confirmed that he is Vagabond. This makes him, perhaps, the most insane person I’ve chosen to align myself with.
I say perhaps because, honestly, I don’t know if I have it in me to distance myself from Harley Quinn. Her obsession with the Joker is as sickening, literally, as ever and after spending so much time alone with him it seems like she is back to seeing the world almost entirely through his eyes. Or what she thinks he sees.
It turns out the rumors are true, though, and he’s become a pathetic mope. That almost balanced seeing her just as bad as I’ve ever heard.
I got into a physical confrontation with another vigilante, Brimstone, but the appearance of Son of None allowed me to slip away before things got out of hand. The death of Abattoir is going to continue to cause me problems, and this was just the second striking of that particular clock.
So much video to work through, I can’t write much longer.
I’m working with this League, hoping to take down Black Mask before a war breaks out, and not everyone is happy with the idea. I don’t mind Falcone in power over Mask, even if I want them both cowering in their penthouse suites, because it collapses the power structure into a neat little pyramid… but not everyone sees it that way.
We all have different agendas, and as long as the focus is allowing Gotham to sleep well while its criminals are up with night terrors? I don’t care too much about who agrees with who.
Something else, something interesting in a way I have trouble pinning down has happened. Mr. Freeze, the doctor, has a plan for putting the most unrepentant and dangerous criminals of Gotham away for extended periods.
No more killing. No more terror. Just locked down, unable to escape or even think of escape.
And he wanted me, Jackson, to help. I’ve signed on. This is something I can do, as myself rather than the Jape. That’s new, and in many ways more important than getting my face back. Maybe. That sounds crazy.