The Joker's mind is a dirty, run-down city on a smallish island-and-a-half, bordered by water on every side.
"A city," says Rose, unable to come up with polite terms for the condition of said city. "On two islands, one smaller than the other."
"I've been to the Eyrie, and it's big, but it's not city-sized," says Shell Bell. "Does that mean anything?"
"There's no - sizes in mindscapes," says Rose. "They all go down to arbitrary levels of detail. The seeing-presence can always take in the whole thing as though it were tiny or the smallest piece as though it were enormous. The real city, if it's a real city, may well be larger than the Eyrie, but the dreamworlds that resemble them are not meaningfully larger or smaller than each other."
Queenie's mindscape is a lot like the Joker's, but worse. And some of the buildings are different, and some of the streets have a patchy look to them as though assembled from disparate pieces of city.
"It's - approximately the same city. It is - in poorer condition. If I didn't know better I'd think you'd been someone's unwilling channel and were damaged by it."
Rose attempts it. "I see a wall," she says. "A metal spherical wall, with bolts and rivets. There's - a door, but it doesn't open for me."
Aegis tilts her head. "That's Sue's door. Now it's yours too long as you're only gonna tell me what my head looks like."
"Stars," says Rose after a moment. "Inside the wall is a field of stars."
Rose laughs. "I suppose this is my party trick, is it?" And she looks at Alice's mindscape too.
Alice's mindscape is a small underground suite of rooms with a central staircase spiraling up out of the middle.
"Aww, it's your lair," says Stella. "My turn, my turn."
"An island. A very large island, insofar as that means anything - I mean that I need to get quite close to be able to make out anything like individual towns," says Rose.