[Hey,] she tells all the Jokers and all the Bells. [There's a Joker in world number twelve who wasn't there before I crashed. Can't find him online at all, though.]
"All right," says the Joker. "So what have we got, exactly? Template sweep turned up a Joker and there's nobody on the grid with, mm, the wrong name?"
"Innnnteresting," muses Queenie. "And how many wrong names are there to go around, here? Without naming any."
"Four. I haven't been told and have no wherewithal to find on an Internet whatever Nona, Beast, and Aianon started with."
"Mm," says Ghosty, out of thin air as usual; her intangible presence hovers around Queenie. "What kind of a world is twelve, anyway?"
"Earth. Has a Gotham. No magic or aliens or anything else that I've been able to detect. Currently June, 1988. No Bell, and a standard Earth one would be born by now," Jane adds.
"Assuming Harley wants to recommend me as a foster-parent for Jokers," says Elspeth, "I'll go talk to this one."
Corona is shaking his head. "Twelve, though, oh man. Do you really know what you're signing up for?"
"Elsie's awesome," Harley assures him.
"Yeah, I'm getting that, but you" (Corona freecasts across the room to give Harley a hug) "are a special case - unless I'm the special case? Back me up here, guys, are twelve-year-old Jokers mostly incredible little shits or what?"
"Harley was lovely when he was twelve, but of course we shouldn't expect him to be typical. What may I be signing up for?"
"Maybe not the wolf village house, then," muses Elspeth. "Wolves are easier to piss off than vampires."