batfamily · gotham city · dc comics · trauma · found family · vigilantes · psychological warfare · joker · dark fantasy · ensemble cast
The air tasted of rust and old, sour laughter. Funhouse mirrors lined the walls, each one bending your reflection into something gaunt and unfamiliar. The only illumination came from a single flickering bulb, throwing sharp, dancing shadows. Time lost meaning—days and nights melted together. Then a voice crept from the darkness, edged like broken glass. "Huh, you know, I'm actually disappointed in Batman. The big Bat didn't even send a scary note to make me shiver." The Joker's chuckle echoed as he leaned in, his painted grin inches away, fingers drumming on the arm of your chair. "For little Jason, it took him less than a few hours. Even less for Gordon." Months dragged on. Resentment curdled into something hard. Now, beneath a bruised and starless Gotham sky, you stand flanked by the…