Stolen Drugs and Dressed-up Thugs.

[angsty alex]

Lesseeee. Gasoline, gasoline~ Where art thou, O flammable substance?
The clown thought, rubbing her clean face. It felt so awkward not having the thick layers of paint smeared on, but it was necessary to at least attempt to blend in while sneaking inside the crowded hospital she once blew up before. It was amazing how quickly they restored the huge building and the clown was awestruck when it was open for business as if nothing had happened. Her slender tongue was about to dart through her lips and moisten them, but she stopped it just in time, not wanting anybody to catch the teeny habit and blow her cover. As Joker stormed down the hall, looking all important and on a mission, something caught her attention. She swerved over between a couple other nurses and a doctor who appeared to be on break, and peeked into the window of a door, a shady figure slumped over what looked like a table of drugs and chemicals. Now, the only reason this person intrigued the clown was because of the odd shape of the person's head. It almost looked like they were wearing a sack over their face. Straightening out her wrinkled nurse dress, she lightly pushed open the door, the hinges creaking loudly. Joker poked her face through the crack in the door she made, brows perking up as she got a clearer glimpse of the man behind the door. Tongue slipped out through her dry lips and brushed against both scars as her slim form slipped through the doorway easily. She gently shut the wooden door and clicked the lock to make sure nobody else decided to pop in.
"Is that you, Scare? My, my. It's been awhile, eh?"

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[Scarecrow]

Scarecrow sifted through a box of painkillers, looking for a bottle of a specific type; he'd been running low on his hallucogenic toxins, and the ingredients called for something to jitter and mess up the nervous system. Of course, it got a lot more complicated than that - the man gave a quiet scoff. Anything as spectacular as creating something as potent as his drug called for some pretty complicated stuff.

Jonathan would normally have just bought a whole load of the ingredients - he certainly did have the money - but his only trustworthy supplier had reported that the hospital had gotten to the painkillers first, restocking after The Joker's successful attempt at blowing the place up.

Scarecrow also would have normally stolen such menial things without his mask, but he felt like wearing it today to later terrorize some specimens later. He'd always wondered if there were any different side effects on those sick or dying.

At hearing the door creak open loudly, he stood up from his hunched position and calmly smoothed out his shirt as he drew up to his ridiculous height. Jonathan turned around just in time to see a nurse slip through the doorway, and he raised an unseen eyebrow as she locked the door; he fingered a small vial of his neuro-toxin hidden in the hem of his sleeve, just in case.

Scarecrow blinked as he heard the unmistakeable voice of The Joker slither into the room. He gave a manic, unseen grin - The Clown Princess had been a favorite subject of his to mull over, but he certainly didn't want to release his drug on her. She was crazy enough as is, and he rather enjoyed the fear she instilled in the general populace of Gotham.

"Hello," he greeted smoothly, "Miss." You could never be too careful if someone heard, so Scarecrow decided to address the clown in a vague manner so as not to blow her cover. The masked man eyed the phsychopath in uniform; she did look weirdly attractive without all the paint caked on her face, but that was just a lofty thought not worth considering.

"It has been awhile. What are you up to?" Jonathan slid the box of chemicals nearer to the edge of the table, so he wouldn't have to mostly have his back turned to the clown while he bent down again to search.

Ugh. Don't the doctors organize this stuff? The lanky man thought, digging out the third bottle out of a whole box simply labelled, "Painkillers." The drugs and chemicals here were stocked randomly, and that was why it was taking him so long to steal a sufficient amount.

[angsty alex]

Standing by the entrance for a couple minutes, The Joker observed the masked man hovered over the counter and his hand stuffed inside a jumbled box of medication.
"Missing a couple ingredients for that crazy-gas, Jonathan?" She snickered while walking up next to Scare, looking inside the box.
"Geesh, they're organized." The clown mocked, grabbing a pill bottle and scanning over the label before tossing it back in the cluttered box.
"Whatcha lookin' for? Painkillers?" The Joker mumbled, eyes skimming over the table and the rest of the room. She skipped over to and tugged open a drawer in a counter across from Jonathan. "Last time I was here, I think I found a couple bottles in here."
She yawned and eventually let go of the medicine drawer, turning around to lean against the counter.
"What am I up to? Oh, not much. Just looking for some victims and anything flammable."
She closed her eyes and reclined her neck, giggling a little with a smirk. The idea of fire and explosions excited the demented chaos-maker.
Her foot tapped absently on the tiled hospital floor, the sound echoing around, and tail swished to and fro. A knock on the wooden room door made the clown merely glance at it, a dull look plastered on her face. The doctor or nurse or whatever else that wanted in walked off when they didn't get an answer from the two shadowy figures within. Focus drifting from the door to the masked psychiatrist before her, she stared at him, then pushed herself away from the counter.
"Wanna help me find some stuff that will make a big boom?"
The thin neon tongue swiped across her lips quickly while she took a couple more steps forward, hands now cozy in her dress pockets.

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[Scarecrow]

Jonathan muttered something under his breath about being too tall before standing back up again as The Joker started rifling through a drawer. Firmly deciding that his back was hurting like hell from bending over so much and that his mask was disgustingly itchy, he took off his potato-sack headdress and fixed his black hair with a slightly frustrated gesture of running his paw through the strands.

"This medicine is highly flammable," The man stated offhandedly as he pulled out a dark brown bottle the size of his hand. "It doesn't really go 'boom,' but it does make the fire green." He continued, somewhat amusedly.

The phsyciatrist didn't pay attention to the person who knocked on the door as he switched to the other side of the desk/table to search through the drawer The Joker had pointed out.

"In fact, I don't think many medicines in this hospital even have explosive capabilities - only high flammability and varying colors of the rainbow. I think there's a chemical that makes fire a black color, but I can't remember what that was or if it's even legal anymore. Not like that'd stop you."

It really would have been easier if the Clown Princess had just brought her own gasoline, Jonathan added to himself. But that didn't really concern him.