I can't believe that this is finally happening. After all these months of planning I have finally gotten everything that I need in order to start doing what it is I love the most. I never thought I would be doing something like this, something that seems to suggest that I have a very strong death wish, but as soon as I had the idea inside of my head I just couldn't shake it. So, despite all protests from my friends, I am going ahead with my plan.

It will either be completely brilliant, or, it will go down in flames and me along with it.

Nothing can quite compare to the depressing qualities that a blank art canvas holds, it is an object that is meant to be filled with colour, shape and idea. To see one blank is almost like looking at a lobotomised human, you can see that it exists but it's just not all there. Yet, even though I want so badly to fill it and I have the idea to do so, I just sit here looking at it. It is almost as if my hand is too nervous to begin the work that my brain has already agreed to undertake.

I sigh, my breath gently fogging in front of me. It is a bitter autumn here in Gotham, and my studio is far from glamourous. How can I afford to rent an apartment and a good studio? It's quite simple. I can't. Which is why I'm trying to work in the middle of a glorified warehouse with a measly fan heater by my side to curb the frosty nip in the air.

What I need is motivation.

What better motivation than to think of the subject of my art?

One of the strangest men that I have ever heard of, appeared on the news a few months back and started to cause chaos all over Gotham. Who didn't notice someone causing that much anarchy in the streets, banks were robbed, monuments blown up and people killed on the streets. Even though not all the time the ring leader went out to commit the acts himself, she and everyone else in Gotham knew who was really behind these acts.

But it isn't just him who I find myself drawn to. There's Harvey Dent, the DA who was sprayed by acid while in the middle of the courtroom after which he went off the deep end and formed a criminal tag; Two Face. Not only that but there's The Mad Hatter, a man so obsessed with Alice in Wonderland and headwear that he truly believes himself to be the character from the fiction. Each and every one of the super villains currently residing around Gotham fascinate me, and I want to make a show of work purely inspired by them.

Most likely they are going to seek me out and murder me terribly for daring to do something like this but, I just have this feeling that even if that does happen, this needs to be done. There is just so much there, so much potential that nobody has thought to tap. At least not in the art scene. There is an underground band that cosplays as some of the villains for shows and such, they are very good, and the final push into following my heart in this. They haven't been hurt yet, so maybe the villains just don't care about what the citizens of Gotham do. Everyone is so obsessed with the Batman, they just can't see the mass of artistic inspiration that the villains themselves offer.

My first subject? I have a battle with my brain and my heart on this one, I don't want to seem predictable however as my fingers pick up the nearest sketch pencil I know the villain that I am going to recreate from the elongated curve of the jaw I begin absentmindedly.

Almost as if I descend into a trance, I close off my mind to the world around me and simply think about my subject. I can't just start without having a clear idea in my head as to who it is I'm drawing then it would be sure to turn out wrong. I don't want something like that to discourage me from continuing when there are more than enough external factors to do that on their own. Smiling softly to myself I allow my mind to drift away from everything important and to just think about one thing, and one thing only.

What would the Clown Prince of Crime smell like, if he were to have a smell? Would he smell of gasoline and gunpowder as so many other people thought that he would, or would he be smelling of something else entirely? Did he have a favourite scent from before, that he just cannot stop buying and wearing? No that didn't seem to fit him, too sentimental, too easily traceable. Nobody knew much about him, so perhaps he would have a non-descript scent, but on the other hand I cannot see him simply smelling of nothing.

I imagine a scene, I play out one of the robberies of one of the many banks in Gotham, as if he is right there in front of me. Right away I can catch the sheer nature of him, so focused on chaos and bringing disruption to the seemingly cushy world around him but yet, there is that element that seems to focus specifically on making people laugh. A hard feat given what most of his activities are. That must be why he invented that weapon, Smilex, to make every see the funny side of what he's doing that only he previously could fathom.

If I were to study him in this memory closely, like a paused film, and zoom in the things that I would pick out are completely different to an offhand glance. True the scars are still a major part of his appearance, and also his super villain name sake, but his eyes hold a much deeper story. There are crinkles around them, are they from laughter, or are they from a time where there was stress in his life? Not to mention the depth of emotions that could splay across those eyes, cold and hard one moment but holding a spark of laughter the next.

Unsure of how long this has taken, I find myself not caring two hoots. Now I know what this painting is going to be about, what the most important element is going to be. The complete air of unpredictability. It's pretty clear that I'm going out of my comfort zone for this one, but I have the feeling that it is going to be more than worth it in the end.

xXxXxXxXxXx

If it isn't for the sudden phone trill of my ring tone, breaking my concentration, I wouldn't have known how long it's been since I started working on the Joker portrait. Even now I am slightly irritated at the interruption, I am so close to finishing that I know that I can get the basic outline completely down by the end of the day. There's been so many times where I've wanted to rip out my hair in frustration, but, I kept at it. The only things left to do now are the inconsequential fillers, the detail on the background and such.

Picking up my phone I answer it as cheerfully as I can, you never know when it might be an art collector calling by to inquire about some work. I'm not holding out much hope on that front.

"Hello you've reached Meradith Astraphel of Nex art studios how may I help you?" I greet, twirling a strand of my wild auburn hair around my finger.

"Hey! This is Kaspar from Venom."

Of course I completely forget about the job that could be bringing me money in immediately in favour of working for my show, which is only a distant possibility at the minute. I almost slap myself I feel so idiotic for letting this chance potentially slip through my fingers.

"Oh hey, I'm sorry I know I was meant to give you a call but…"

"No worries, we were just wondering if you were still game to design those flyers and poster art for us? We've got a gig coming up in a few days and we'd like to see your stuff before then if, you know, you'd be ready in time?" He sounds slightly peeved that I have forgotten but then again, most professional people won't touch their band with a ten foot barge pole. Kaspar is the front of Venom, the band that like me uses the villains of Gotham as their inspiration for song and stage costume.

"I'll have them ready in two days, three days at the most, will that be enough time for your guys?" I ask, doodling down the date I needed to have these finished by, and what I remember of the specifications from last time beside it.

"Yeah that's okay, so will you come down to the club Wednesday, around nine and I'll see what you've cooked up." He states, although I can sense the enthusiasm rising in his tone and I can't help but match it in my own voice. Seeing someone like my work so much, always makes me feel happier in myself.

"Definitely, I'll be there with time to spare."

"Alright see you there. Bye."

As swiftly as the phone call had begun it ended, and I rub my eyes tiredly, the weight of the work that I've been doing swiftly crashing down on top of me. There is so much work to be done but to do it now, when I'm so tired would mean it would come out completely rubbish. I don't want to ruin what could be a long term chance with Venom. A career like mine doesn't inspire regular income often, to ruin a chance like this would be insane, literally insane.

Deciding that I should head back to my apartment, I check the canvas I've been working on one last time, unable to stop my wide grin. It's amazing, even if I do say so myself, and when I add colour then it is only going to get better. No watercolour, no pastels but bright colours. In fact, I'm planning on using nail varnish on a gloss background to make the shining quality of the varnish stand out. The scent of the acetone in the liquid seems to fit with the Joker, maybe it reminds me of the incident at Ace chemicals that gave his skin that signature white colouration?

With a cheerful sigh I place the canvas under a protective covering and leave it on the easel. I pick up my bag and shrug on my hoody before leaving the studio locking it securely behind me. Stepping out onto the wet Gotham streets, I glance around swiftly, even though it isn't one of the worst neighbourhoods, crime is literally everywhere and I don't want to be walking out into something I could have avoided if I'd just looked. The street is deserted though, and there are no sounds of fighting or explosions nearby, so I step out, ready to begin my way home.

I only live two blocks away, but the cold fresh air does me the world of good even in the short time it takes me to get to and from the studio. Taking in a deep lungful I tilt my head to one side, regarding a tree which has one side charred by a bad fire that had taken place in the liquor store across the road a few months ago. I remember that night vividly, and am still thankful that the robbers came nowhere near my apartment complex.

Not minding the puddles on the cracked sidewalk, I almost bounce across the street to my apartment block the walk having significantly lifted my mood along with the offer of getting paid still being on the table.

As I enter the building I give a nod to the guard on the desk and head up the stairs, wanting a little bit more time to think as I wander along. I've never really dreamed of being famous but, if my little show were to make me famous in the future it would be amazing. I would never have to struggle for money again or live off instant noodles, and my art would always be in demand. Running my hand through my hair I cannot contain my grin at the thought of mingling with the higher society, still dressed in my Doc Martens and ripped jeans. Now that, that is a wondrous thought right there.

I live on the fourth floor of the building and as I approach my flat I see one of my neighbours exiting. He seems pleasant enough whenever I see him but, this area is popular with members of criminal gangs. The higher up members anyway who get paid slightly more. I'm not really familiar with how the pay scale works though.

"Hey." I smile softly, nodding in his direction.

"Hey yourself." He replies with a crooked sort of grin, which doesn't contain any malevolence, merely a hint of playfulness.

"I haven't seen you in a while, everything okay?" I inquire, not wanting to end the conversation there, it's been a while since I've talked with another human being as I've been locked away working and it feels good to have a conversation.

"Oh yeah, yeah just…you know work stuff. You look dead on your feet Meradith."

"Yeah well you don't look like a model yourself Zane." I tease, placing my hands on my hips, and eyeing the bruise over his left eye "If you must know I've been working on pieces for a new show."

The vacant expression on his face makes me grin a little bit and I shake my head. Since we have not really talked much I cannot blame him for not knowing what I do for a living, I only know what he does because I got nosy and asked the neighbour in the middle of us what she knew about him. As an elderly woman she was around most of the time and often got most of the gossip.

"I'm an artist." I explain, and a light clicks on behind his eyes.

"Well that's cool, I had a cousin who did an art class in college I think."

"I don't expect you to know everything about art just because I do you know." I smile softly "But hey if you would like to come to see the show when I've finished please do, I'll put an invite through your door."

I turn and slip my keys into my door, unlocking it with a quiet click, before turning back to Zane with a friendly smile.

"Yeah, uhm, sure." He states, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly "I'll see you around then."

"Yes I'll see you soon I'm sure." I grin, giving him a little wave before entering my apartment.

Sighing blissfully at being back in my small, but cosy apartment I lock my door again and swiftly kick off my oversized boots to get comfortable. There's just something about getting home that's severely relaxing. I glance at the time and even though it's only five in the evening, I know that I've been working for three days at the studio with only small naps serving as my sleep. What I want right now, is my bed, and when I get there I'm not going to leave until lunch time tomorrow.