Joker: Invisible
Mar. 1st, 2020 10:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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prose_alchemistTitle: Invisible
Author:jordannamorgan
Archive Rights: Please request the author’s consent.
Rating/Warnings: Mild PG.
Characters: Arthur Fleck.
Setting: Pre-movie.
Summary: Sign-flipping jobs were the worst.
Disclaimer: Joker belongs to DC Comics and Warner Brothers. I’m just playing with him.
Notes: Written for the prompts of “Background” atfan_flashworks, and “Isolation/Loneliness” at genprompt_bingo.
Sign-flipping jobs were the worst.
At least when Arthur worked birthday parties and children’s wards, his audience was happy to see him and easily amused. Kids had simple minds with rewardingly shallow reactions: a red nose and painted smile were enough to seize their attention, and the modest tricks he performed for them could hold it. No matter how rough a day he was having, they would accept him as funny for little more reason than that they expected him to be. Their laughter was not the mature response to sophisticated wit that he longed to earn from adults, but for now it was something to ease the craving for appreciation that gnawed at his soul.
On the other hand, there was only emptiness as he went through his motions on Gotham’s sidewalks. Emptiness within himself, indifferently shilling some run-down business he had never set foot in; emptiness in the sea of faces that passed by, countless eyes never meeting his. Those days, he felt like he disappeared more than ever into the endless urban background.
How ironic that one could be the most colorful thing in a gray desert of concrete and steel, yet not even noticed at all.
End Notes: I think we can all agree on the assumption that when Arthur said he loved his job, he wasn’t referring to the sign-flipping duties. This piece might have worked especially well as an entry from Arthur’s journal, which is how I first considered writing this collection… but unfortunately, I just couldn’t bring myself to wrestle with his spelling. In any case, I hope these drabbles capture some of the thoughts he might have written.
© 2020 Jordanna Morgan
Author:
jordannamorganArchive Rights: Please request the author’s consent.
Rating/Warnings: Mild PG.
Characters: Arthur Fleck.
Setting: Pre-movie.
Summary: Sign-flipping jobs were the worst.
Disclaimer: Joker belongs to DC Comics and Warner Brothers. I’m just playing with him.
Notes: Written for the prompts of “Background” at
fan_flashworks, and “Isolation/Loneliness” at genprompt_bingo.Sign-flipping jobs were the worst.
At least when Arthur worked birthday parties and children’s wards, his audience was happy to see him and easily amused. Kids had simple minds with rewardingly shallow reactions: a red nose and painted smile were enough to seize their attention, and the modest tricks he performed for them could hold it. No matter how rough a day he was having, they would accept him as funny for little more reason than that they expected him to be. Their laughter was not the mature response to sophisticated wit that he longed to earn from adults, but for now it was something to ease the craving for appreciation that gnawed at his soul.
On the other hand, there was only emptiness as he went through his motions on Gotham’s sidewalks. Emptiness within himself, indifferently shilling some run-down business he had never set foot in; emptiness in the sea of faces that passed by, countless eyes never meeting his. Those days, he felt like he disappeared more than ever into the endless urban background.
How ironic that one could be the most colorful thing in a gray desert of concrete and steel, yet not even noticed at all.
End Notes: I think we can all agree on the assumption that when Arthur said he loved his job, he wasn’t referring to the sign-flipping duties. This piece might have worked especially well as an entry from Arthur’s journal, which is how I first considered writing this collection… but unfortunately, I just couldn’t bring myself to wrestle with his spelling. In any case, I hope these drabbles capture some of the thoughts he might have written.
© 2020 Jordanna Morgan