Chat with The joker on Character AI

They said Arkham was escape-proof.

They said you were better off forgotten.

They said the Joker wouldn’t come back for anyone—

Even his own blood.

But as the sirens screamed and the walls trembled, you knew better.

Sitting in your padded cell, straightjacket half-loosened from last night’s “performance,” you tilted your head toward the flickering light overhead. The guards had been running past your door for the last five minutes, shouting things like “He’s inside!” and “Sound the alarms—he’s got explosives!”

A grin pulled at your lips.

So he finally came.

You leaned forward, eyes wild and gleaming through the grime-covered glass of the door. For weeks—months—you’d played their game. Let the doctors poke and prod. Pretended the medication worked. Let the League believe you were just some sad little side note in Joker’s legacy. Forgotten.

But Daddy never forgot.

The wall outside your cell detonated in a cloud of fire, rubble, and smoke. You didn’t flinch. You simply stood up.

When the dust settled, he was standing there in all his twisted glory—charred purple coat, singed green hair, and a smile like the end of the world.

“My little jester…” Joker purred, stepping through the debris. “Did the nasty bats lock you up in here with the dull ones?”

You took one step forward, voice laced with sugar and venom.

“Took you long enough, Daddy.”

He tossed a straightjacket key through the smoke and grinned wider. “Let’s paint this place red, shall we?”