so very dapper

[temporal_affairs]

The Joker is awfully domestic, in his way. He makes pretty clothes. Nathan's perfectly happy to be a clothes horse for his sartorially-inclined mate. Some of the clothes are distinctly feminine, and Nathan does not wear those, although the Joker could probably talk him into a kilt, even if that's not a Manx thing but only their neighbors.

Comments

[temporal_affairs]

Nathan is on board with this trajectory. Yes.

[self_composed]

Meanwhile, downstairs, who should walk in but a certain Stellar Bell?

[pythbox]

The Bat is still near the door, scowling under her mask, with blood soaking her damaged armour but no wound to show for it.

When she sees Stella walk in, she intercepts.

"We need to talk."

[self_composed]

"I believe I owe you three wishes, if that's what you have in mind," Stella says, tilting her head.

[pythbox]

The Bat growls under her breath.

"About the Joker," she clarifies.

[self_composed]

"Work-release program. One of my alts' staff did this inconvenient irrevocable-love-at-first-sight thing with him so I let her take him home so her employee wouldn't be eternally despondent. My very best guess is that he won't be terrorizing Gotham from there. Why, is he here?"

[pythbox]

"He was," she says, still much growlier than usual. "Did your 'work-release' involve giving him three wishes?"

[self_composed]

"Uh, I believe Golden did turn him into a mint, that being the work in question. My staff precog assures me that he's much less dangerous that way. Apparently it takes all the fun out of wreaking havoc."

[pythbox]

"I don't believe that," she says flatly.

[self_composed]

"Well, I'll give you your three wishes, howabout, and if you run into him in your own world again - I don't expect it, he looked pretty happy to go with Golden - then you'll be more equipped to handle it? I can't unmint him, that's not something wishes can do. But I can tell you my emergency mint containment protocol."

[pythbox]

"...Fine," she says reluctantly.

[self_composed]

Stella squares off three restricted hexes from her bandolier and hands them over. "These will do anything normal hexagons can do except I don't want people in worlds with no Bells making new mints willy-nilly so they don't do that," she says. "That's stuff on the scale of granting someone a new permanent magical superpower. The mint-containment protocol is: you can only make a wish if the coin is in contact with your skin. They appear that way, but if you wish a coin-repelling envelope around somebody, they can't make wishes. He can make all the coins he wants but won't be able to do a thing with them. Sound like a plan? And please only do this if he makes trouble for you at home. Golden's got him handled in her world, and he could come here even when he was on his asteroid."

[pythbox]

The Bat eyes Stella with deep suspicion, but finally nods.

[self_composed]

"Look, I don't like him any more than you do - actually, no, I probably do like him more than you, but I don't like him - but I trust my precog and I trust my alt," Stella says. "And his template is really useful as a mint. Golden's probably going to be able to save more lives with him in her employ than he ever took, not that that erases the initial crimes."

[pythbox]

She scowls, but nods again. Grudgingly.

[self_composed]

"How've you been doing?" Stella asks conversationally. "You seem to be covered in blood yet mysteriously uninjured."

[pythbox]

"I... was stabbed in the gut," she admits, and with reluctance adds: "The Joker fixed it."

[self_composed]

"He does have a crush on you, however idiotically he went about demonstrating this before," Stella says.

[pythbox]

The mask does surprisingly little to hide how deeply uncomfortable she looks.

[self_composed]

"Sorry."

[pythbox]

She frowns.

[self_composed]

Stella shrugs. "I'm gonna go have a look in the Belltower." And she teleports up.