"Death is not the opposite of life, it is simply a part of it."
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"It's been 3 weeks since Arthur Fleck escaped Arkham Asylum and has been on the run, authorities are on the lookout for this dangerous individual. Alfred is 5 9", pale, long thin shoulder length hair. Beware of scarring on-..." Alex hummed along to a little tune to her head, absentminded and not listening to whatever the radio was saying. She could be classified as reckless in the moment, not completely listening to the most likely misinformation spreading. Gotham was known for lies.
She had gotten good at that since the death of the Commissioner, since all the radio and news was broadcasting about the supposed Joker running around killing people. Ridiculous they thought to give this man a name, because of course it has caused uproar.
The unstable citizens who honestly need to be locked away, take the craziness spread on the news and bring it to life in the streets. Anytime Alex goes patrolling, or going to and from the station, more and more individuals are roaming the streets, clown makeup painted on their faces. Lighting small fires, breaking shop windows, stealing, absolute tomfoolery. Always those people out in the world who take the worst kinds of people to idolize.
As Alex makes her way down the busy streets, she comes to a halt as some dumb clowns run through the street. She rolls the window down, yelling at them to move the hell outta the way.
...
Alex quite early to pull up in front of the church, the crowds slightly less than Mayor Mitchell's service, knowing what happened at his, I'm sure people are hesitant to show up. She parks quite far down the street. As she got out of her car, she smoothed down her simple black dress, deciding to dress formally but not too formal for the event. She had actually met Jonathon Pike once before. She wasn't as sad as those who knew the man well, but she felt low. As she generally does these days.
She makes her way towards the grand stairs leading up to the old church. Religion was not something that came into Alex's life often. She resented it since she was a preteen, as her parents always tried to teach it upon her, sent her to awful catholic schools, all that good stuff. The last time she was here was probably her mothers funeral when she was 16 years old. The memory didn't really bring awful, gut wrenching feelings, but a lingering sadness. She loved her mom of course, though she was never the nicest woman on earth. That seemed like such a long time ago, she's accustomed to being motherless.
Alex scans the crowd, trying to spot Gordon or Jensen. A lot of officers are walking into the building in their Sunday best. Some wave; kindly, some ignore her presence. She was used to it, the hot and cold. The business of the crowd was getting slightly overwhelming, and she tried her best to spot a familiar face. She pulls open the grand doors, hand wrapping around the large gold handle. It was so cold to the touch, even though it was nearing the end of summertime.
