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u.r.a fever
04 November 2011 @ 12:35 pm
The night had been like any other night. Now, before I start I want to ask you to pardon me, I’m not good with beginning in the slightest. But as I was saying, same as before, usual Gotham. Same night. Same shitty weather. For two days I had sat here waiting, watching from the beat up and old modeled car. By all circumstances it was probably hot, but that hadn’t bothered me. Nothing like that ever had an effect on me. I’d been running into trouble with the law since I was 15. I remember my old man used to beg and plead with me to make something of myself. Heh, if he could have seen me now. I had made something of myself, and I hadn’t needed any schooling or breaking the backs of others. I just broke other things.

I remember the first time I had heard about him. Joker was what they called him. Real tough son of a bitch, the first thing I had heard. The second was that he was about as sane as the sun in the middle of the night. Course, when someone’s slicing up the city you’re going to look away at some of those less honorable features. The first months had been real disturbing, like minds tended to attract each other you know? If ever there had been a motley crew it was the thugs and bruisers and rats he shifted out of the underbelly of Gotham and got to work for him. Some of them did it for money, some did it for the respect, and some I swear did it just for the killing. Me though? I don’t know why I got involved with this mess. Perhaps I was just looking to save my own neck seeing how Joker had literally pulled the head off my last employer and rolled it across the table. I guess you could call it survival mode. But yeah, he had all types. Psycho killers. Bruisers. And a couple of dames. In fact there was one in particular that had always stood out. That was probably on account she was attached to his hip. That little number was also the reason I had been sitting in this car for the past two days with Earl.

“He’s gonna be here soon. You better be sure on what you been seein’.”, Earl spoke with a slightly distracted tone in his voice. He smelled like someone who nobody cared about, and it was probably the case. Those dirty nails of his traced the splattering of the rain against the glass of the window. The shmuck didn’t even care to keep watch.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sure. Look keep down. If we blow this now Jokers’ kill us.” He didn’t react at all. Still staring at his damn window and still showing the apathy you’d expect a dead man to show. I grumbled and reached into my shirt pocket before drawing the crumbled package out and popping a cigarette between my lips. He had said my tobacco was some foul Indian shit and I needed to get the real deal. I kept smoking because I knew he hated it, and I was pretty sure I was well into hating him. My mind however took itself off to how this had all ended up to be, fumbling with the lighter and sparking the fire that would allow me to inhale the first cloud of foul gray smoke.

Harley Quinn. If you hadn’t been caught a episode of Gotham Nightly News, you’d haven’t a clue about who or what that was supposed to mean. Everyone had heard the stories, and the rumors consequentially had followed up in a befuddling manner. Cute, young, and smart, the doctor had taken Joker’s case after the whole incident with his first painting of the town red. What happened next was a whirlwind of media coverage and killing. Lots of killing. The way I heard it was Joker took her hostage and used her as a human shield to literally walk out of Gotham free as can be. Now why Harley had gone and decided to run off with a mad man was anyone’s guess, but I had my hunches. The way I saw it you couldn’t be around all those nut bags and not have it rub off on you. Lord knows I’d had some crazy thoughts since hanging with this carnival. Anyways, the two kept on killing right along as merry as can be. Most people weren’t even sure of how deep her involvement was and she kept happily latching herself back to his sick personality. It was some pretty whacked out business, seeing her moving about the thugs and creeps wearing that face paint and looking like she was at home. I had always thought it was a shame the way she ended up, blonde hair and blue eyed and a figure like that? She could have had any man. Pick of the litter as they’d say, and she shacked up with him.

Regardless of the situation, the two had been a regular Bonnie and Clyde, him taking whatever he saw fit to take in Gotham and working his mad power schemes from The Narrows to Uptown. But Harley started getting mopey, like something was wrong. Most of us noticed it, the ones who weren’t flying high on pills or hearing voices, but we kept it to ourselves. Saying the wrong thing around Joker got you a fast and poorly dug grave. And then one day, out of the blue, she split. No one saw her leave. No one knew where she went. We avoided the subject like the plague, on account of Joker’s temperament. Joker though? He was a rock. It was strange seeing him act like nothing had happened. Most people saw it as a slight against him. A mistake on Harley’s part that any day would be getting fixed once he got his ducks in order. But days turned into weeks, and weeks gave way to month. And still nothing was said about Harley or what had happened to her. She became a ghost, a memory with some of us. Maybe Joker had killed her himself, finally tiring of what she could give him? Maybe that Batman had gotten her, and she was getting worked over to sing a tune that’d have him brought down on all our heads. Whatever the case we didn’t know a god damn thing. It bothered a few of us, and when Marv had touched on the issue, I got the distinct pleasure of dragging his carcass to the pier and pushing his faceless body into the water’s depths. He’d always been an ugly son of a bitch anyways.

But like I said, mums was the word until one day I was sitting there minding my business when suddenly Joker came to me. He took a seat next to me and peeled one of his long arms around my shoulder before tucking me in real close and talking to me man to man. Now, don’t confuse things here, I was pretty damn important to his operations. The day he took me in he told me personally that I had a face he could trust. Of course he’d joke he could probably peel it off and put it on anyone else around him if the need arose, but I never rocked the boat. I busted heads. I shook down who I had to. I got things done. And I did it fast. In retrospective maybe that’s why he got in touch with me. Needless to say he was there on me, his clammy hands and his smell. Like a machinery, like my old man worked in. Metals and processing and blood. He always had that faint smell, like walking a hospital’s halls. You could detect it, but it wasn’t strong enough to set you off. He kept his voice down, as if the manner was taboo, and he told me in no uncertain words something I hadn’t expected to hear from him.

I think I found Harley. I hadn’t been sure if he had had more to say, as he seemed to sit there and bask in the revelation as news to him as well. The awkward moment persisted before he kept his pace in talking, his words were fast and hushed and he kept himself focused on his plan. It involved this car, and it involved me sitting outside this housing complex, in the dead of winter, watching and waiting. The first day had been uneventful. Nothing but Gotham’s busy city life rustling about me, passing me unknown as if I was but merely an ugly splotch. Sometimes I got out of the car, tucked my jacket tighter around me, and just leaned against the body of the car. Earl joined me later in the day, telling me in no uncertain words that Joker had told him to keep watch too and that we would now be sharing the car. We hadn’t talked much, and he himself wasn’t any help with the task at hand. I was starting to think Joker had sent me on a wild goose chase when my luck turned around.

Around six thirty that night a short little thing who’s height had certainly been in synch with Harley’s came shuffling down the block in the congested traffic of the mob. She had been bundled head to toe in layers of coat and sporting one of those thick rain coats, and like that she was up the stoop and entering into the house. From what I had seen on my stake out, some old broad was running some sort of bed and breakfast. My guess was that Harley had taken up here with some of Joker’s money, and was now living a quiet retirement on Joker’s fund. And against his wishes. It all became clear now, he had been looking for Harley to settle a debt. I found myself baffled at the daft nature she had chosen, but I kept my secrets to myself, opting to keep Earl out of my established thought process. Glad I was to figure out the scheme, I allowed Earl to take his leave to update the boss before getting some shut eye in that front seat.

The next morning I woke up to the sound of my door opening. Earl had come back, and I immediately fumbled to find the time. It was well past nine. Shit, I had thought, I must have missed her leaving it she had. The morning and afternoon had went uneventful, with Earl tailing the old lady when she left for errands and allowed me to scope the place without the threat of some old crone bugging eyes at me while I worked. It was then that I got the call. Joker was coming. And he was coming alone. I spent the remaining hours much as I did now. Fidgeting nervously and counting down the minutes as they scrolled down the digital clock that rested on the dash board.

The back door ripped open, tearing me from my thoughts. I choked a bit sucking on the cigarette that had idly burnt itself down to a fine layer of ash. Joker had walked up unannounced and entered the car without either of us showing any sign of knowing. We could have both been dead just like that, the thought didn’t do well to settle my nerves as he loomed between the front seats. His form allowing his ratty hair and ghoulish image to be visible from the corner of my eye.

“Gentlemen.” I hated when he put false heirs on. You could tell just from his look he didn’t think much of either of us currently for our lack of attention, but he masked it well. Joker masked a lot of things from behind that bone white complexion.

“Yeah boss, she’s in there. There’s one other girl and the land lady’s gotta be pushing sixty.” I felt proud, more so at Earl’s lack of information. The man whom had been dawdling now seemed to be feigning a sort of eagerness to work now. Joker’s mere presences had inspired him to greater heights. Abunch of bull shit if you asked me. “I don’t really know what we’re doing here, from the looks of it she’s staying up on the second floor. But I mean we can’t just walk in the-”

“Kill the old bag. Kill the other woman. Nothing’s going to stop me from going where I want. Remember, this is my city.”, he announced matter of fact, that speech pattern hitting certain letters harder than others. The callous nature in which he had verbally offed the two women sent a chill up my spine. I never had a problem killing no one, but this wasn’t like that. It was butchering for the sake of butchering. I kept my thoughts however to myself, since I wasn’t in wanting to end up on the wrong side of the man.

“Then what? We take care of the dumb broad, teach her to steal money from The Joker? Ain’t that right boss.” Earl spoke up with enthusiasm. Blind enthusiasm.

“Money?” Joker’s question sounded stricken, as if he was almost pained to say what he did next. “Harley stole something, but it’s not money. No. No.” As Joker said this the routine would revisit itself. It was almost as if he could spot her out of the crowd. I felt the cheap leather of the seat groan as his grip tightened and he stared ahead through the dead weather of Gotham’s evening. The same walk, the same meek and careful movement of a girl whom seemed to be in hiding. Those layers and layers of clothing doing it’s best to fight off the elements, as the wisps of jet black hair peeked from under the fleece hat. I did a double take at the color, gone was the bright and fun blonde. We all watched her, six eyes trained on her as she remained oblivious and followed the same routine of turning towards the stairs and taking them careful and timed. Into the house she would disappear and the sound of Earl’s buckle unclasping and door opening was cut off by the stiff grasp of Joker’s hand upon his shoulder.

“We wait. When I’m ready.”

All the time before in the car, coped up with no one to talk to, nothing to think about but Harley, had been insignificant to the minutes that passed with Joker in the car behind us. I showed him the lay out of the house and he listened with half interest as his wrinkled features would distort and scan different parts of the structure. Minutes dragged into hours, which began to lead me to believe we would be going in the dead of night. I breathed a sigh of relief at the thought that maybe we wouldn’t have to knock off the old bird or the other woman when he pushed the door open and stepped into the cold bitter night of Gotham. Leathered coat hung from him past his knees, as he wore his clothing in drab and earthen tones, a far cry from his battle garb he called that cheap purple suit. Earl and I followed suit stepping out and closing the door, while I watched the one light on in the house trained overhead. A silhouette of a woman through the blind showing her move to and fro busying herself within what I had guessed was the bathroom. The trio of us moved down the block and to the house before Joker gestured for Earl to go to work on the lock while I stood watch.

Gotham, for what it was worth lived up to it’s uncaring nature. If anyone had actually cared enough to bother stopping us, none of them had the guts to do anything about it. Joker’s usual tormented stare remained in uncaring solace as he watched the passing cars from that worn face. The diligent work finally paid off when the door gave way unlocked without a sound and allowed for the entry of us three into it’s inner sanctum. Stepping in I moved behind Joker to close the door behind us and noticed him withdraw from inside that coat a firearm. It was a silent message to the both of us, and we followed suit. Three men with loaded guns against a pair of unarmed women and a batty ex-hench wench. It turned my stomach.

It was if a long awaited seige had toppled, the shadow of death itself creeping through the comfy home that was oblivious to what had been on it's doorsteps and now settled itself in like a old wound. A trio of men, with foul intentions whether fully behind them or not, stared amongst each other with silent communication. The man whom was a ringleader amongst them, his own facade long since past leaving the chipped and flaking signs of white like a old house. Those eyes were the worst, as though something had left from them. A familar twinkle that had been snuffed out, and like that the men went about their work. Where once their had been stealth, Joker showed he no longer cared if she knew they were coming. The two lost souls attached to him breaking formation, each following the wordless commands. Earl would suddenly scream, a pelting visceral sound like a mad hound before he'd start to scramble up those stairs like a beast posessed, Joker however did not follow suit. He read people as it where, and though he himself was a muddled shell of himself, he sensed something incorrect in the chaos he had concocted. They moved towards the kitchen, those sounds of a meal that had been finished up and was being graciously supervised in it's end by the woman of elder years. A nod, that stained crown of hair shifting in his eyes briefly directing Charlie to act out his acquired task, and the man would by coming up behind the woman in total surprise, a gloved hand clamping across her mouth to keep her quiet and restrain her. What followed was silent murmurs to remain calm and that this would be one of those nights she'd look back on her remaining years as her closest call. Joker watched it all, a phantom at the portal to the room. But it swelled in him, a anger that had to be siphoned before he'd erupt. He had no paitences for this formality, he didn't need pleasantries, he needed bodies. The gun that had been drawn would be swung up, and Charlie would show a look of dumb surprise as he'd jerk away and watch the rich stain of red that dressed the wood finished cabinets, that last sign of life destroyed with a single bullet. The gun was lowered, he took no hint of amusement or satisfaction at the kill, only a stern warning to the man that was but a pair of arms to him on this operation. "We aren't here to make friends in this life, get on board or get back in the car." His gaze wandered to the prickled texture of the roof, before stalking back towards the foot of the stairs they had passed. He didn't care if she was warned, let her be ready. He was.

It had been what seemed like years since then, but it had only been months --- not even seven to be exact. It had been so long, so long ago since she came to Pamela, Poison Ivy to the masses, wondering what she should do. All sorts of opinions had been tossed around; but finally she begged Ivy to help her. And she did. She knew of this little boarding house, an old woman whom Ivy did not seem to hate, probably because she kept the most beautiful garden anyone had ever seen, located on the outskirts of Gotham. The woman did not ask questions when Harley Quinn showed up there, her hand locked with Ivy's for support. The old woman had set up a small apartment just for her special needs. And she was grateful, even if her heart was breaking. She had seen less and less of those people she trusted, Ivy and Eddie to name a few, and it made sense. Her last words to Ivy was, "He'll find me, he'll aways does." , and with that she was alone. And now she-wolf was hearing gun shots, it was too soon. No, she cursed to herself, her head peeking out of the window, she braced herself. Eyes snapping shut at the gun shot she knew who the victim was and she was responsible for the death of the woman downstairs, and she knew it. Rushing to the bathroom she moved as fast as she could. Her small gun in her hands, it'd been so long. Grimacing as pain overtook her stomach she whimpered to herself, cooing, "Hush. Hush little....", she made no more noise, those ocean blue eyes staring at her door. He was ready, and so was she.

The life of the woman was had been forfeit the moment she had set eyes on Harley. He prowled, Charlie stalked, together towards the steps like a pair of dejected men. Joker's hand found a railing, and using it he would begin to support and boost himself up the stairs, his eyes shooting past pictures of the dead woman's families that would never see her again, the memories that had in one swoop been permanently made just that, memories. He reached the top of those stairs and lingered briefly, hearing the sounds of ripping and fighting, a desperate struggle down the end of one hall. Those eyes drifted briefly to the man whom was tailing him before he'd start the almost tom-cat like walk, legs swishing to and fro and his hand taking to the gun like a familiar friend, as they rounded the corner, the scene that played out was typical for the pack he had surronding him. Ankles and feet, kicking to and fro against one another as muffled screams and disgusting coos from Earl who dared to present his bare ass to the world amongst the scuffle with the woman. He'd catch a glimpse, not seeing the familiar blonde coupled with the fact she was at this point weakly trying to fight him off through his pathetic pumps of his hips. The rape was as appalling as a passing cloud to that demented clown, and he'd react with a tired look before chiding the simple man and his simple desires. "Do be quick." This sort of gross negligence to what he expected would have normally been met with sharp reprisal, but he secretly wished for this woman whom was being traumatized meant something to Harley, and the fact that she was the catalyst for but one more horror in the world would scar her more than he had been. But it was a flight of fancy, as his eyes pinned on the last door and began his slow creep, his sense of smell sharp enough to take in those trace fragrances that informed him of it's occupants. Empty as it was, he'd find himself watching that last door whilst Charlie brought up the cautious rear, examining the contents of that room more thorough than the mastermind behind this debauchery.

The reward for the old woman's kindness was death, the old woman's kindness had given Harley a new home constented of a small loft apartment kicthenette, and a barely there living room. She did have a nice bedroom and bathroom. The kitchen, the first thing you saw when you walked in, was filled with clean bottles she'd boiled until she thought they where going to melt. The table full of bedding and clothes for a little person. The bathroom wall was right next to the other room and she could hear it all, she heard the man raping one of the other girls. She would fight not to scream out in rage when she heard it. Rape was always the worst offense to Harley. And well she was with Joker, the men rarely acted on their urges because they'd be face with death. Mostly from that little doll. But it made her hold out some hope, hope, that it was just some of the guys whom wanted to make names for themselves, or get on Joker's good side. What better way then to find his girl, his wife. Her own hand pounding against the wall, as she would crawl on hands and knees to the bathtub --- running the water. In hopes that maybe just maybe she could distract the men, so she had the upper hand. She knew that in a shoot out she'd be out gunned, out numbered and not abled body. But there was she knew one thing, no one was a better shot then Harley Quinn. She could hear the footfalls of the men starting to enter her apartment. So that meant there were three of them all together. She could kill three, she'd done it before, but she'd done it with Joker and his men behind her. And that's when panic would hit her heart. They were in her apartment, if they had half a brain cell they would see what was littered about the small apartment. Her secret the one that she'd fought so hard to keep, would be revealed.

Earl's deed was done, and if the girl was alive or dead was no longer of any of their concerns. The Joker's view of the room was something with a hint of disillusionment. If anything was truly registering with him, it was't apparent to either of the men. Earl's voice ripped through the uncomfortable silence that had taken over them. "YOU IN THERE SLUT? YOU BETTER BE READY BECAUSE WE'RE COMING AND IT'S GONNA BE A WORLD OF HURT FOR YOU." The yelling was piercing, wannabe rockstar trying to show off for his dumb friends. The man more timid and withdrawn from the situation was picking through the apartment with the grim realization already pricking away at his mind, the whole story falling into place like that last puzzle piece. And amongst it all was the solemn clown, whom was attempting to concentrate and understand what for all extensive purposes wasn't acceptable. And then there was a gunshot, the bloody sound of meat torn by bullet from close range, and with his arm slumping back down Joker paid no mind to the corpse of the zealous attempt to get the clown's ways. To understand Joker was to understand an alien language, and as he left the man to die from the gurgling shot that dared to seperate his throat into two neat pieces, Joker continued to watch the counter. The clothing, pushed aside with the muzzle of his gun, tossing things away and walking around the room till he stared at those bottles. And then his arm swept out, scooping at them in a angry swipe that littered the floor with them. A sound came from him, almost like the dying cry of a wounded man. There wasn't any excuse for what had happened, her departure was an insult, and his appearance remained grim as Charlie kept his silent vigil. The voice croaked out, a call to the woman whom he knew was hiding within the constricting and undefensive confines of her porcelain prison. "Come out.. come out.. where ever you are." A comotion, a gurgled and muted cry as Earl tried to grab at something to attempt to pull himself out of whatever chalk outline he'd be filling in the future, only to thrash back to the floor in pain and suffocation.

She remembered the days in the beginning when she tried to just handle a gun without shooting herself, Joker, the guys or in general the wrong target. She remembered that towards the end of her reign as Gotham's Clown Princess of Crime she could shoot a man right between the eyes without even looking up from her gossip rags. She wasn't scared of the men getting the jump on her, she knew better, she knew that they thought it was a sneak attack. She stood there gun relaxed in her hand, like it was second nature. Full plump lips curling into a snarl when the word slut was used. She hated that word. She didn't mind half the things people called her, because most of the time they were right. But slut? No, that wasn't right not at all. Since the moment she'd laid her eyes on that mad man dressed in orange at Arkham Asylum, to his true self in violent purple - she'd never been with another man. And never dreamed too. Gun was ready to be fired, ready to kill. But she could already hear the sounds of a dying man. Taken a back, she didn't want her brain to accept it, she refused to believe it. His voice, it ripped through her. At first she though that maybe just maybe it was just some men who'd found her, she could handle them. But him? She heard his voice, and she'd never forget his voice. It was him. Letting out a small cry of frustration --- or hormones, she moved forward, towards the door. Out towards the man who was destorying her nest. The door cracked open, with gun still in hand she decided it was now or never. Blonde hair had along since been covered up and allowed to grow natrually. Her hair was shorter then it had been, resting just over her shoulder. She seemed healthier then never too, the rich brown have her a glow. Her face was a little bit rounder, not as thin it had once been. She didn't look like a whore anymore, or her clown like self, she looked natural with no make up on her face. Dressed in large robe that for the most part kept herself hidden, she looked comfortable, she looked like she was going to settle in for the night. But if you looked harder you could see something else, everything about her was bigger, rounder, not just her face. Her breasts look bigger and swollen, straining in a white tank top. The pin up figure, much like the blonde hair was gone. Now she sported a rounder face, larger breasts and something else. With her head down she refused to look towards him, looking at him would only hurt her --- but both of them knew even if she wasn't looking at you she was still deadly. She had keep her hands on the robe to cover herself almost to hide it, she no longer could not with that gun in her hand. The overside housecoat began to fall away, her stomach was large, swollen, it was full of life. His little doll, Harley Quinn, she was pregnant.

When she entered into the room there was a sense of alertness to everything. The bleak situation all the more bleaker with her emergence, it became a true crime to everyone involved when it was born to witness the fruits of their coupling. A woman now stood before him, not a pole dancing, cartwheel twirling, giggle box with a fetish for murder and sex. It was all too realistic for him, and though he'd stare at her as if she entered the room sporting a second head, he said nothing to her. Grim was the only means to describe the look on his weathered face, sunken eyes and strained skin showing the exhaustion on his face that had this newest revelation daring to make him collapse from sheer pandemonium. From this point on, the quiet weeping in the hall, the last wake of the dying man, and the witness behind the counter, were all moot points. Harley was there before him with a child in her belly, and he'd respond typical of the creature of anarchy that he was. His arm jacking back up, and the gun wavering to face her square on, he'd tighten his lips before craning his head angrily to the side. Lungs were working overtime in anxiety that dared to burst from him before daring to raise his voice from the creepy crawly sound to something more hideous, a raging demon ripping through his voice box and announcing it's presences. "YOU. YOU? What do you think you're doing.. DID." He'd assert himself, trying to rest the calamity by attempting to pull on falsehoods and chime in darker, more venomous. "Well now we all see why Harley needed all my money. Which one of them put it in you." His mind raced to images of indecent acts with an assortment of men, The Batman even unable to stop from trickling in as he'd force out the most obivous answer from his mind. His fingers readjusted themselves on the trigger and his brain screamed shoot, but he'd wait. He wanted to hurt her after all, that's why he was here right?

She had tried to remember what his face looked like when she saw him as she walked down the aisle, their stolen wedding. No one could have convinced her otherwise, he loved her that day. He loved his little bride in red. She wanted to remember that face, she wanted to be taken in and embraced by him. She wanted him to miss her, she wanted him to tell her she was stupid for leaving and just take her back to the hide out. When she looked up at him, she took away any doubt in any living soul that it was Harley Quinn. Those blue eyes stared at him, those eyes that had saved her life that first night she dared to push him. The gun was brought up and she half expected it, but she remained calm. Joker was right. She'd left him in the middle of those rare moments where he slept. She left with all the money he had in cash, it didn't mean that he didn't have it in other places. But it was close to ten million dollars she left with. She'd left, just her and that money, and the clothes on her back. She'd made it pretty obvious she was leaving him though. The joker card, a totem of their relationship was left under his favorite knife as was her stolen wedding ring. He would dare to question who put "it" in her, and she growled. She was very pregnant at this point, close to the end of her pregnancy and when he questioned her she'd fire back. Her own gun coming up to his head --- she made no hesitation, keeping her finger on the trigger. Even if both knew she wouldn't do it, but she was much more moody then normal. "My husband..." the response was simple, and obvious. Harley Quinn was pregnant with the Joker's baby.

He didn't care about the gun she was daring to aim at him, the twisted individual knew just how deep he had dug into her emotionally. The little marionette doll he bounced around like a good lap dog, the walking sex that all the boys nudged each other and had good yucks at. He thought as many nasty thoughts as he could while daring to push his skull back into the barrel of her gun and almost dare her to shoot him, lowering his gun and aligning his head up perfectly so that those brows knitted about them just so. Scarred visage would clap together and he'd dare to lavish his lips with that rough tongue, before boring down on her with his normal tenacity. That is until she dared to blame him for what was happening, and he'd flinch almost before becoming almost revolted at that idea. His head would pull away, and he'd hunch over whilst gnashing his teeth and spitting some foul curses, only to lurch back up and roll his neck before his hand came up. "Don't you dare blame that on me. I didn't ask for this, I don't want this and I don't need this. But if you think.. I'm going to just accept what you've done after all this, if you-" He had always talked up misleading, the act of surprise and bamboozling people, that was why when his advances was met with a swat and a disarming of that gun from the emotionally distraught woman, it was half bewilderment at how easy it had been. He was blinding himself to just what the situation was, trying to talk to her like she was just another board piece in the masterful game he played with Order and Chaos. "No. You're not having this. It wasn't the scheme, and I told you. I told you from the start. This isn't the way things are going to go and yet here we are.. I'm the one in control. I'm the one in control." He was tempremental as much as her, the gun coming up, the gun coming down, and for once the clown genuinely seemed to show a glimpse of emotion aside from pyromanic glee or murderous indigination. His mouth was working overtime, that habit daring to moisten his lips again. "We're ending this.. The gall of you, to sneak off like that and then this."

Of course he of all people would know how deep he'd just cut her, to think that she'd ever allow another man in her bed. Or allow another man to touch her. No one even dared try it, not with him. She would brace herself as the man pushed his head into the barrel, time and time again he'd done that to her but she never shoot, she'd never even thought of it, not until now. "How can I not blame this on you!? You're the one who when he wanted sex got it, ya think this wasn't gonna happen?!" She had a point, the pair fucked like rabbits, and never with protection on Joker's part, or much of any from Harley. The clowns having been together for what seemed like a decades now, had never experienced a scare much less a real pregnancy. By the end of it all she thought it would never happen. Until it did. Harley was showing her backbone, more so because she had a life to protect. "What shoulda I have done?! Tell me..." and well she was showing her backbone, that fragile heart of her was becoming more and more prevailant. More so now because she could see the emotion coming through him. She took her eyes off him well he began to remind her that he was the one in control, and that she'd known it. "I know...I know...but tell me what should I have done. What do I?" Gun slapped from her hand, she winced, she wasn't sure how that even happened. A miss timed kick from her baby, the baby was now strong enough and large enough to inflict some kind of pain on it's mother. But now she knew, she had nothing to protect herself with, not another gun, no baseball bat, and no loyal companion in Lou, or Joker for that matter. She could see him licking at his lips and she wanted to reach up and grab him. She just wanted him to touch her, or for her to be able to touch him, even if he was threatening her life.

The clown remained almost preoccupied with her, despite her pleas and demands for an answer on what exactly to do. Truth be told, The Joker didn't know what to do about it. He was now searching for an answer, this wasn't what he wanted from Harley. Week by week she had turned a playful little frolic, a distracting nothing, into something serious. Something very serous. And now the aftermath of all those endeavors was bubbling and brewing to life right there before him in her stomach. He knew how he wanted to proceed, but even that now seemed a distant ideal. The gun felt good in his hand, it's metal surface the warm call that indicated what to do. Shoot her. These problems, this whole ordeal was something that needed to be dealt with, and he knew just how. The arm was coiled up again, and he'd drive the gun's point into her head, pushing her back more and more with a silent rage before he'd release all that turbulent and uncomfortable emotion. He'd scream, a throaty, angry, almost desperate yell before yanking himself away from her if by some magic force. He had turned away, his entire stance one that sulked with sagging shoulders and down turned head. Joker was unable to take in what was his hold up, why he for that time couldn't pull the trigger. Feeling nails dig into his palms, he'd loosen his grasp while that body shook, a quiver of one last parting whatever. Staying abreast from her, he said nothing only watching the floor for signs of a map that would guide him through this abyss Harley had seen fit to drag him kicking and screaming into.

She was fighting to keep him away from her, keep him from killing her. And the reason being, not because she vauled her life, no one, she didn't care about her life. She stopped caring about her life the moment she killed that man in the water treatment center, the first kill she ever did for Joker. Her life was vaulable because Joker told her it was, because someone needed to be there to protect him. But this time, she was protecting herself to save that baby, to save something that was half him. She knew the stories by heart, and some of them might have been true. And that psychologist in her was reasoning his behavior for him to her. She saw his rage and his frustration, and she saw what no one else saw, it was not frustration and rage at her, but at himself. That scream was too much for the woman that stood before him. She felt her heart ache for him, and it was the first time during this entire exchange she'd felt emotion for him. She'd gotten so good at numbing herself to him that she forgot she cared about him. And well he'd tried earlier in the night to hurt her by killing those people who'd turned into her most trusted friends, the only time he'd hurt her was now. With his own pain, that was now he hurt her. And even if every part of her screamed 'get your gun and shoot him!', she refused to listen to the sane part of her. Instead she was walking forward to the mad man, her hand coming out to touch him, she was coming closer now. As close as she could that big belly getting in her way. And all she could say to him, the tears welling in her eyes was a simple and probably stupid, "I'm sorry Puddin'...."

He'd keep himself quiet as he stayed facing away from her, not a word was spoke. It was all just a numb feeling for him now, and as such he kept himself wary of any intrusion on his private thoughts. Everything sought to plague him, every sound a hammering in his skull, from the ticking of the swaying tail and shifting eyes of the cat clock on the wall, to the slow and rhythmic breathing of the bodies in the room. Bodies, he began to come back to Earth, the planet calling him with the intrusion of the woman so close to him. The round warmth of her intrusive stomach, the closeness that dared to make him accepting of it all. Joker reacted, not with violence, but with a simple dull and tired shift from her. Turning to face her, wisps of that hair shifting into gaze, he'd finally submit to looking her in the eye, those intrusive shades of blue drilling into him and reminding him of all the hijinks they had. The Joker realized then he didn't want to lose that, but refused to openly state why. Instead he'd shift the blame from her, the hand raising up to wedge the gun into the curve of her stomach before giving a click as he'd lock it for firing. "I can fix this.. let's go back Harley." He spoke dead harsh words, his own promise to what he assumed would wipe the slate clean for them. The gun remained poised to fire a single shot into the horrid little monster he imagined in her pouch.

She just wanted him to look at her, that little unbalanced body was now leaning to get him to look towards her --- her hand resting firmly on his arm well she tried to force him to look at her. That rather large stomach was now up against his back but only for a moment. He turned and she saw him staring at her, her own eyes locking with his almost instantly. She saw the man that'd saved her time and time again. She saw that person that she loved with all her heart, well there was still a trace of tears in her eyes, she couldn't help but smile at the man. At her husband. That was until he suggested a way to make everything right again. He'd fix it, she felt the gun make contact with her stomach. The baby was awake, and she wouldn't have expected anything else but that. She was going through so much that she knew the infant would feel it. The child was now at the point of survivability, and that's when she panicked. Yes, one of those options was to terminate her pregnancy. But she could not she couldn't do it. It wasn't that she was some kind right wing, pro-life girls who'd march outside planned parenthood. Oh no, the simple truth was this child, was half her and half him. She loved him so much she couldn't destroy that. "Puddin'..." her hand moved to his wrist, there was no pressure on it as of yet, but she was ready to move it. "...it doesn't work like that. I can't...I don't think...it's safe."

He kept the gun steadily where it was, the man's decision seeming to be final now more than ever. The wild look was steadily creeping it's way back from whatever dark recess of emotional destability he had. The idea was becoming more ready, more easier. He could see it now, a simple swing at the stomach and he'd solve all those problems. And then Joker read something.. defiance. A complete and total admission that she wasn't looking to do that at all, despite the fact he had promised the end of it. And that seemed to spur him on, that diabolic clown following up with it by shaking his head rapidly at her. "No no no Harley, I pull this trigger and I've solved it all. But I can tell.. you don't even have to say it. You've gone and fallen for IT hook, line, and sinker. Hopeless romantic as always. Well let me tell you something.. it's me or *it*." He spat out it in such a way that it was apparent he had distain for what their union had brought, that darken soul continued to try and reason with her. "And you can't have both, I told you how long ago you can't have both. So what? You run away, you don't think I'd find you? I told you, if you ever tried to leave, what did I tell you I'd do Harley? You're mine. You belong to ME. Not IT. NOT IT." He steeled himself now, his body pushing away for max range from her, the gun steady on that swelled belly and his arm wavering in complete frustration, at the absurd madness of it all. He wanted to laugh, despite all the misgivings. He had put the notion of killing Harley out of his head for so long, it was coming back to him like a familiar friend. That sprinkling of doubt had no place for the man whom was a free, if horribly unbalanced, spirit. The man would bead on her with those fierce eyes before he'd spit out those last words with a sense of dismay. He felt unclean where she had touched him with that back now, his stray hand moving to try and wipe at his back in a hapless and hopeless gesture of emotionally removing her sudden new found baggage.

She loved the man in front of her, there was no question about it. None what so ever. But there was one thing stronger then love, the old saying that true love knew no bounds wasn't true, and for the first time in her life she realized that. There was one thing stronger then her love for the Joker and it was their child. She'd protected that baby, she'd nurtured it inside of her womb, she'd made sure that no one hurt her for the three months she was pregnant well with the Joker. She had known when she was with him. But she kept it secret until she knew the child was healthy and before she began to show. She'd managed to avoid the Bat those three months, well nine months now. Her emotions, her chemistry was now geared towards that child. That love was so intense because it was Joker's, it was his child. "You'd ---- kill ----" her voice was cracking under the strain of it all, those big blue eyes of hers showing all the hate she had for him now. Deep down, yes she knew the answer and the truth. "---your own child and possibly your wife? For what? Ya own demons. Ya can have both J, I can have both....we could be a family. You could have heir to all of this chaos. All of it. Ya find me ya always do...but I thought maybe...ya'd understand. I know I belong to ya, but this baby, he's half you..."

The resentment stayed with him now as she'd dare to fire back at him, and attempt one last chance at some sort of salvation from this all other than a bloody massacre. A far reaching aspect of his mind tried to rationalize what she said, living like some sort of family unit and accepting everything without any sort of ulterior motive. It was ultimately a hollow request, and though he showed ever brief signs of cracking, he accepted nothing but her complete devotion. "You want to make plans? Plans are who needs to be where so that this person dies. Plans are this bomb needs to be here and go off when so that we make one big bang. What do we not plan Harley? Diaper runs. Sleep cycles. Pink or BLUE. I told you we're monsters, and you dare to bring something like that in this ugly.. awful world. I wear it on my face so that I'm the friendly smiling reminder of just what can happen to you on one bad day. And you want to subject this thing to our life. We're monsters, we aren't... weren't ever meant for this. I told you that from the start, and I never made any secret to what I expected. And suddenly you want to change the rules. You want compromises!? COMPROMISES!? Because you couldn't remember to take a pill." He spit out each word, syllable, letter with a spiel of venom, his own anger at her demands now coming forth from him like some sort of angry child. "I kill, and I destroy.. not because I hate the world, but because I get it. And all I'm getting from this is one more body for the pile. A waste. A joke. So no, he's not half mine because I don't accept it. I wasn't made for family life, I THOUGHT THE FACE PAINT AND KILLING MADE IT PRETTY CLEAR. But YOU. You've always pretended.. and for what!? You wear the face of someone who doesn't care but you've been crying all along. Do you get it now? No. I guess not." He gave a slight pause and tightened his arm now to show he was aiming more for the general body of that woman, and asked ever so sheepishly the last question. "Where do you want it, the head or the heart?"

There was something in his speech that hit home --- something that seemed to take away all the craziness this woman had accepted into her life, more so in the past nine months. And there was no stopping it now, she'd tried not to cry --- she'd tried not to be emotional she'd tried to be strong. Strong for him, strong for their son. But in the end she was so weak, she was weak and she was stupid. There was a wave of realization that took over her. He was right, how dare she bring a baby into this world? This worthless world, this hateful, stupid, awful, crazy world. How stupid was she? How dare she subject this baby to their life. A child, a child of two murderers, a child that would see killings, bombings, rape, abuse all of it. And the other truth was she knew once the Bat found out she was a mother, and Joker was a father, that man would stop at nothing to take their baby away from her. God she was so stupid and she knew it. It showed all over her pretty little face. "But...he is yours. He's ours. J, I'm sorry the world is awful, I'm sorry. But I thought for maybe all the years we were together, maybe the world wasn't so awful. I'm sorry the world's had it ways with you but..." she moved forward, it was obvious she didn't care, it was bloody obvious. Her hands dared to do something was suicide to anyone else but her. She touched his face --- "I thought maybe, it was just a little bit better with just the two of us. And I was crying...the entire time. I was crying for you. I loved ya so much that I couldn't stand what the worlds done to you..." her hands pulled away from his face, and now she accepted her fate. She knew that this was no place for her child, and she could not be without him. Or Joker, so her choice, it was simple. "Da Heart, it's already broken..."

She responded to his frazzled speech, and he said nothing at all for the extent of it only staring darkly from behind that mask of swelling anger. The man almost felt something, a distant and dark desire that needed to be quelled immediatly. And with it he took solace in the fact that this was what needed to happen. Even as she moved to touch his face, he did not flinch or react to it in kind. There was only an assurance, that despite her actions, that pretty little crying clown wasn't alone in her sentiments. But through it all, Joker saw no other way out of this. He kept his gun on her and found his nerve to do what needed to be done, the promise he had kept bubbling up and causing a twitch of laughter before he insisted he stare her straight in those misty eyes. And then he spoke. "I'll.. mourn you." Why lie? The Joker could accept he'd miss everything about her, and with that he took ready to make his shot.


Despite the trace amounts of residue from the gun blast, the third shot that rang out in the house was subdued. Almost as if it had been expected all along. Joker stood his ground. Harley stood her ground. And down would go his arm, as he felt himself becoming incredibly tired. His head bobbed down in confusion, and he'd look towards Harley with a half amazed, half amused expression. He knew she hadn't fired at him, and so his when his feet collapsed under him and he fell to a slump, there was a weak smile stretched across that marred and disfigured face. "Ha." A weak response, feeling his mortality as the wet stain began to stretch the expanse of directly in the middle of his chest. The Joker was now sporting a clean gunshot wound.

And she, in that little mentally strange sort of way would smile at he told her that he'd mourn her. "I love you..." --- she whispered to him, she'd go even as far as to grasp his gun to keep it right next to her chest so he couldn't back out of it. She was sick and twisted but devoted until the end of time. The words he spoke to her were all she needed, that was that she was accepting of it all --- she was accepting of the death that would be handed out to her. She braced herself waiting for the next shot the one that would kill her. And when it rang out, she didn't feel anything. She'd been shot before, and it hurt. It hurt bad, but she felt nothing. Maybe a kill shot wasn't meant to hurt, but his gun went down and she saw no blood on her. But when she shifted her eyes to his body, she saw it. She saw the gun shot wound on him. "Oh my god, Joker." And she watched him slump down, her entire body moving to help him get him to the floor, she followed down with him, which was amazing seeing as she was so pregnant. Her hands moved to the wound, it was instinct right now, her hands applied pressure. Trying to save him, even if she knew there was no use. "Puddin', it's ok. It's ok. Ya gonna be fine. I'm here..." she told him, more tears welling and falling down her face. Both of them knew the truth, the Joker was dying. But his ever loyal little clown was trying to save him.

The fact he was dying was a foreign concept, the man taking the wound with all the grace of a man whom had just been asked to sit out of this one. Sucking wind, he'd feel her coming to comfort him, and for a moment it almost felt fitting. He didn't pull away from her, too weak to offer any resistances as she drew close to him. With glossy eyes he'd look to her towards the man whom stood off to the side keeping the gun steady as if The Joker would rise up from his death kneel and gobble him up. Charlie. A hacking cough mixed with laughter came from him, and he'd ignore the sudden dabbing of blood that came from him. The Joker, killed by some frightened man. Pain ate away at his body, and he felt his system begining to close up shop. Head leaning back, he'd look to Harley before giving a hard swallow. A hand grasped at her, whatever he could find, and he'd give a imploring look towards the woman before pulling with all his strength to come to her and speak softly. Under his breath, afraid that his awful secret might escape to the outside world. What followed was a struggle to force his hand into his pocket, and rake at the innards of it before shoving something half angrily, half desperate, into her waiting palm. And then, a few more pants, a single blink of skepticism at what awaited him. And with all of that, the man whom had caused complete bedlam where he stepped, died there in the middle of that small living room apartment, in the middle of Gotham Nowhere.

The man was still unhinged even as he watched The Joker die. And then as if going through his own breakdown gave a exasperated look to the woman whom's life he had saved. Assuming shock, he'd go to her to explain himself. "I couldn't-- I just couldn't watch him do that. Not to a child, and not to you Mrs. Quinn." Trying to think quick on his feet, he'd look around the room knowing she had money and going into what looked like her bedroom. Her safety had become his concern now, as he'd draw up one of her bags and quickly return into the room while trying to be sympathetic and guide her along. "Look.. we ain't got a lot of time, he made this whole thing secret but I'm sure that dipshit Earl over there told somebody. People are gonna start suspecting. We can get you out of here.. maybe to Coast City or Metropolis. Look, we just get you outta here and I can lie low. You oughta know how wacko some of these people who've worked with him can be." He'd turn around with a imploring look, for once in his life showing a streak of deceny after everything he had seen here. It was too much. The world wasn't as bad as they made it out to be.

That man, she stood there watching him die, and even if their last moments together had been awful, she could not fault him. She remained there with him, she could not let him die thinking she hated him. Tears fill openly, and she no longer told him that he was going to be ok. She stood there, whispering how much she loved him, and it was true. She'd never love anyone else but him. She tried to hush him and save his strength, like she was still holding out hope that's he be ok. She took his secret and whatever he shoved into her palm and then she watched him die. She watched a man that she had always viewed as immortal die. The Joker wasn't meant to die, ever. And well it was a foreign concept to her, but she watched as the man she loved slip away from her. Leaning down she kissed his lips once more, hands going over his eyelids, making sure they remained closed. And in that moment she wanted to die right along with him, her eyes traveled towards the gun he'd been holding her hand grasping for it. Her plan was to shoot herself, that was until she felt the sudden kick of her son and then she saw the man that was with Joker and she heard his voice. Looking at that body of her husband --- both hands full, she would begin to speak, her voice shaky. "Ya know, when Joker and I first started our lives together, the one thing I refused to do was kill for him. I didn't want to take a life. Then one night, during one of his mad schemes, an old guard had pushed him down the stairs a gun pointed at him and me at the guard's side. They didn't know I had helped him escape and went willingly... and in that moment, I saw him. I saw that he could die, and I didn't want that. I took my gun out and placed it right up against the guard's throat. I was a pretty bad shot back then. But I killed the man. I killed for the Joker that night. And from that night I promised I'd always have his back. I've killed a lot a people in my day, most of them to protect Joker." and that's when her hand with the gun came up and fired...she delivered a shot to Charlie's knee. She didn't want him to die, no not yet. "Ya see...I'm not a bad shot anymore. And those wacko's that worked for him...I was the craziest one of all. This world is awful place, it'll have it's way with you. Ya killed my Puddin', and now I'm going to kill you." one more shot was fired right between Charlie's eyes. "But ya'll the last person I'll ever kill..", and now there was nothing. Her hand still clamped shut from Joker's dying act, opening it she saw and more tears began to well. It was her ring --- her wedding ring and his dying words --- to his Harlequin, his little doll, his wife, well, she known them all along. The Joker loved her.
u.r.a fever
07 July 2010 @ 01:12 am
The sounds of the sirens could still be heard, and even now as he remained stationary in the backseat of the van, and still he could taste the blood. It smeared about his mouth in a messy fashion, soaking into the scarred crevices of his maw while he remained in an almost jubilant fashion. The war paint as it was, not present. The hair however still unkept giving him an almost sickly look. And still bound around his arms was the tight wrapping of that medical jacket. He had long since given up and escaping it, but what was more important was he had escaped his hell. Arkham, now a good distance behind him, had did little to dull his senses. He rose in the back of that van, stooped and made his way to the passenger seat. A collapse into a seat, allowing the glow of the city lights to flood his vision as he did the most dangerous activity who could think of. Plot. Breaking his brief train, he would roll his tongue about and suddenly spit up a bit of flesh he had taken out of the orderly's cheek, neglecting the possibly panicky co-conspirator driving that car.

She grimaced and closed her eyes tightly when she watched the chunk of flesh exit his mouth. To say she was panicing would be an understatement, but there was a slight thrill as well. She didn't say anything she just took a deep breath and opened her eyes once again focusing on the road. The plan had worked, sneaking him out. That was until someone caught them and acting on what Dr. Quinzel could only think that he acted on what to be instinct when he bit the face of an orderly, he'd been straight jacketed for effect but he was able to launch himself forward and bite him. Even thinking about that left the good doctor biting her own lip. She thought of where she could take him, obviously her own home was off limits, the police would be looking there. Or was it, "Do you have any idea where we can go?"

Dark eyes had been rolling, rolling, rolling along with each flicker of the passing light. How good it was to see his city once more, now away from the stuffy cage they had stuck him in. That tongue dragged itself across once over bottom lip, smacking them together briefly before he'd regard her and her question. His entire body remaining nonchalant about the whole thing despite the fact he had kicked a man's head in with little regard, only minutes ago. That voice, rich with an almost sardonic sing song approval "Go? Mmmmm."  His mind raced with places, but only one of them seemed to fit the approval of what he needed right now. "That depends on how far.. you're willing to go. Now doesn't it." The only flaw in his plan, a necessary one despite her slip up in having them caught on the way out, far be it for he to blame himself, was the need for the straight jacket. Stare locked on her with a blank expression.

"You can't stay at my apartment, right?" She was asking him, in her heart of hearts she believed that Arkham was doing nothing but hurting him so of course she'd break him out, but he had not counted on this. She shifted and fidgeted in her seat, she could feel his stare on her, it was that same stare that brought interest in him. Not that he wasn't interesting already, the man who'd had Gotham in utter chaos. "I'm already in deep Joker, doing farther won't do anymore damage." She sighed her waving hair pinned back and held in place with a clip. She looked like this everyday, prim and proper in her designer jacket and skirt. The metal from her name tag flickering in the pass of street lights. "When it's safe to stop I'll take the straightjacket off." She could have been talking to herself, silence was unnerving to her.

"Harley." It had become the pet name he had given her of sorts, and the tone in which he spoke was mixed with soothing and possessive qualities all. An almost growl ended that word, and with it he would return to his tight lipped silence. He knew of a place, and it immediatly came to him. A sort of pseudo safe house, that sparkle in his eye immediatly kindling in him a destination. "Left." The good driver that she was would be called into check, as the dingy sleeve of that buckled jacket would be seen sweeping out and clasping the wheel with an elbow to shove it violently. Left the vehicle went, into incoming traffic and causing a blare of horns and cussing from the citizens of Gotham, barely missing getting clipped by a SUV, before arms returned to his laps. "I'll hold you to your word." A thick accent upon that D, watching the busy streets begin giving way to a darker, more dreary section of Gotham.

Her teeth still embedded at her lip she quivered, trained in the human mind his was unreadable. Harleen Quinzel that was her name by birth, the first time the Joker had called her taken to calling her Harley Quinn she hated it, but she was beginning to crave it. She didn't correct him, his original words forever embedded in her brain, a harlequin was a comic servant. She gasped and let out a small scream when he forced the car to turn left and into the blazing lights of on coming traffic. Once she was sure they weren't going to die or hadn't been followed, her finger went to her now bleeding lip; she must have bitten down on it when he turned the car. She shot him a quick glare, her mouth left open before looking back to the road. "Have I ever broken a promise to you?"

Neglecting to note the rise to anger, he would enjoy the brief brush with death privately to himself. Though after she had spoken those words to him, something of a light chuckle would rumble in that lean form of him. Shifting in his seat, he would adjust himself a moment before taking in the landmarks that passed. Girls, Girls, Girls. The sleazy corner store, and it was coming up, he knew it privately. Again talking to her as if he was feeding secrets to her and only her. He had taken to manipulating her and crafting this private world of theirs, but he was quite sure it just hadn't settled in to her yet what she had gotten mixed up. "Stop right up here, the alley way to the left. Turn into it. Lights off, wouldn't want to ruin our.. surprise." He was still debating on just what to do with her once he was truly free.

Eyes darting to those landmarks, not that she was trying to figure out where she was, but she was trying to understand the Joker himself. A little disappointed at the Girls, Girls, Girls sign, she sighed. She followed his word to the letter. The lights flickered off and she turned left into the alley way. Her lip was still bleeding but that was the least of her worries right now, she leaned against the wheel and strained to make out objects in the darkness. If he could see her in the dark he could see her shaking off the word 'our'. She couldn't allow herself to fall deeper in the trap of him. She waited for the next set of directions, or if they were getting close, her high heeled foot slowing the car down, unsure of what laid a head of her. She didn't trust the Joker completely, and she could barrelling forward into a wall for all she knew.

It was alot harder to make the world out around them, what with the offering of only the Gotham's moon overhead casting it's glow. But Joker, he seemed to know just where he was going. A snort, like drawling up some phelgm was heard, and the sound of that automatic window rolling down was heard. The chill air invading the innards of the car before a patoo was heard and he'd rise that voice again to direct her. Joker was ever so careful to spin his words in just a way to make it seem as if he was offering up advice however. After all, this was *their* plans, not his. "And.. stop. Now now.. Harley.. come come." He worked that door open, and out he would step. The jacket still being worn as a badge of honor, and he had little worry for anyone seeing him at this point. He was home amongst the disease, the very underbelly of where he resided for so long. "I need you to meet an acquaintinces." Off he sulked, almost abandoning that car as he moved to a building and barreled through the door leading them into a stair well.

She shivered again, Harley. Easing the car to a park, she turned off the engine before joining him at his side, she kept her hand close to one of the straps of the jacket as to not lose him and if anyone saw them she'd lie and say it was an Arkham outting. "Acquiantinces? What kind of acquaintinces would those be?" She whispered, as he lead the way; making a mental note to herself she wouldn't wear three inch heels next time she was breaking a mad man out of the nuthouse. She had to let go of him to hold onto the wall so she didn't fall over, a skilled gymnast she might be but she couldn't handspring down the steps. As the pair loomed closer to the desired place, she began to feel scared, she'd already loomed her career as a mental health specialist.

Up they went, stairs taken beneath them. Occasionally they were blessed with light, while all around them was the signs of urban decay. The building for all it's height and tower was dying, walls peeling, bulbs flickering at the slightest drop of a hat. But still he marched, a almost undying determination to reach his destination. And as they moved he would hit a top step and silently count aloud to himself. "1. 2." Finally at the magic number, ironically enough 13, he would move himself to the stair well door and enter into the hallway. Trooping along, and keeping his pet in tow, his gaze would shift from door to door, finding finally the one he saw. 7_3. Flooding memory coming back to him, his face contorted briefly before double fists beat upon the door. Those thumbs fiddling overtop one another, before regarding her and speaking dryly, keeping his voice down. "Who breaks someone out in heels." A mind reader, or atleast it would seem that way with the observation.

"What is this place?" She asked trying to keep her voice down and catch her breath all at once. She was beginning to notice Joker's physical state, he was impressive to say the least. When he asked about her shoes she sighed and gave him a look, her head cocked to the side before speaking "I was trying to fit in!" There was a small twang in her voice, normally she spoke calmly and with an authority as well. This time there was a hint of the crazies in her vocal cords. She was still in her work clothes, the skirt and blouse leaving much to the imagination, but her hair was starting to fall out of the perfectly built updo. Outside of the asylum she was looking more and more dishoveled.

In his own way he had broken her into her own truth. This wasn't for his own good. She wasn't helping him. She broke him out. He kept his point to himself before he heard the shuffling inside, and then the dull voice coming inside. It asked who was in there, and with it he'd lean into the door, that skull of his moving to blockade the peep hole out. "It's Jackie Boy." Once more with an inside joke, the confused voice would answer asking who the hell was calling on him this time of night. Listening to the click of the bolts, and the sudden crack of the door, it became an open invitation. Shoulder ram would burst the door back allowing access into that apartment, and the swing of his foot out as he stepped into the startled occupant. With it came a swift kick that sailed between the shadowy man's legs and into his nether region, sending him crumbling and causing Joker to move into the darken room, stepping over him with a small hum. "Come into my parlor said the spider to the fly.." He would call out to her, leaving her standing in the hallway with himself now no longer visible, only the occasional groan from the whimpering man on the floor left for her to hear.

She shook off the actions that had over taken her, and smoothed the wrinkles from her crimson blouse silk in material, rebuttoned her suit jacket and even smoothed her hair back. She was at war with herself, and he knew it, he had to have. "Jackie?" She whispered quietly to herself, she jumped starled at the force he could summon forth. She watched the man crumble to the ground and she jumped once more. How long could he stay there like that? The man, ignoring whatever oath she'd taken when she'd gone to med school she stepped over him. The man who'd been sent the ground grabbed at her leg and she let out a small squeak before she herself kicked him away from her. She closed the door behind her, assuming that was his wish. "Me being the fly would suggest that you wish to do me harm..." She said her arms wrapping around herself, she knew he'd ask for his jacket to be removed and she'd follow his request, he just had to ask. "Are you going to harm me?"

The door closing meant that no longer could they be intruded on, that for the most part the plan had played out all but flawlessly. Again the disease was starting to settle into it's surrondings, but first there needed to be a matter to attend to. Moving up briskly, he would quickly bring himself towards her in that dull room. A pugnent smell of stale cigarettes and body odor wafted about the air, but seemed to do little to damper his mood. He wanted his arms, he wanted his last piece of freedom. "Harm you, I'm wouldn't dream of harming you." He was close to her, invading her personal space, spilling out what seemed almost like a sweet lie. "If you honestly think I'd harm you, then you can keep me in the jacket." Another lie, as he was clearly dangerous regardless of being bound or not. That dried blood giving him a hint of that usual ruby smile. Around he would turn, back offered, and his head cast down. It was again, her choice to let him free of that jacket.

She knew that as well, he could kill her just easily in the jacket as he could out. Her breath hitched as he got closer to her. Her back was now up against the door, but instead of looking away from him she focused in on his eyes, her own baby blues studing him. Before she could even tell him to turn around his back was to her, what if she had a decided to crack him in the back of head, but he trusted her enough to expose himself and be open to an attack from her. Her fingers now fumbled with the belts and latches, her hand on his wrist to keep his arms in place well she freedom him, it'd make it easier for her. Releasing his wrist she spoke, "You're free." She said, pulling at the final back, the ripping noise of velcro. She gave him back his arms, the last piece.

Harley had become a Pandora of sort, as he heard each crack and snap of belts and such being unwrapped, he would become antsy. Each time feeling those bindings become looser and looser, until finally he was blessed with that recovery of himself. He was complete now, and as such he'd leave her against that door. His attention suddenly dipping off into something else. Moving briskly into the kitchen, he would click the single bulb hanging on overhead. Showing no disgust at the upkeep, dirty dishes, a opened box of whatever, and the creepy crawlies that scattered about at his arrival, he would open the drawers and fling item after item away. Finally he found whatever it was, and box was taken from up high and tossed upon the counter. His form hunched over that small space as he'd settle metallic objects around him before giving a joyful sound that escaped from him. "Harley.. Harley.. Harley.. now that you've been.. so gracious.. I need to let you in on a little bit of truth. You see..", his conversation pausing as he'd seem to be pulling item after item out. And now he was turning back to her and returning with something horrible in his hand. A gun.

She kept her back pushed up against the door, the jacket falling to the floor with a thud. The light from the kitchen allowed her to see but not with much, she even fished those thick framed glasses from the inner pocket of her jacket. The shiny metal that was now in his hand worried her and her face showed it, she tried to stay uneffected by it, but it wasn't her own life she'd cared so much it about. It was that he tricked her, he tricked her into freeing him. But butterflies in her stomach exploded when she heard that name, over and over and over again. Harley, this time she even mouthed the word. "And that truth is what?" She asked her teeth again settling into her lower lip, threating to open up the day's earlier excitement.

And yet it wasn't her he was advancing on, no. Soon he found his former associate, a no name nobody, still groveling on the floor, and uprooted him by his hair to a kneeling position. He was frantic, having almost worked himself up into that energetic know with all. Listening to the pleading, he would almost mock him a moment before tapping the gun's barrel against the man's head. Thumb would rock back the trigger as he'd speak directly to her. Again, he would focus on her and only on her. "I'm a man whom gets by on life with multiple choice. Who lives and who dies, can't be decided by just one person. And usually, it's the one who's got the gun in their hands." And he moved to her, taking that soft hand of hers into his sweaty palm. Pistol was turned inward, facing towards him as he took her fingers and placed them as they should be for holding the gun. "A." And he would move the pistol up, barrel placed against her chin. He didn't need to say a word, letting her know she was the first choice. "B." And the gun's cold muzzle was lowered from her, pushing her arms out towards the poor shmuck still catching his wind from the low blow. "Pop quiz time."

First do no harm. That was the oath she took when she became a doctor, in the field of psychoanalysis she never put too much thought into this, she never thought she could cause any harm or do any wrong. Until she met Joker, rereleasing that monster was the worst thing she could have done. Feeling the cold metal in her hand she shivered, weight shifting on her heels as he spoke, she'd never handled a gun before. Again he trusted her, or thats what her mind was telling her, she could have shot him right there. Her breaking stopped when he moved the barrel under her chin. The metal left a small imprint under the soft skin of the good doctor. Once again she felt the hands of Joker move her arms two the nameless croonie. Pop quiz, she whispered. First she turned the gun on her self, wanting to remain true to that oath, but then she looked around. To the man, with that angelic but scarred face and then to that unlucky man. She lowered the gun, her head turned away for a second, thinking about all the things that could come from this. Murder, jail, suicide, trust. Trust from him, the gun was now nestled and settled on the B choice. She looked back up and the Joker, she nodded ever so slightly before returning her gaze to the other man. Her finger started to squeeze and finally she added enough pressure to release a bullet that would be sent into the nameless no one's body.

You could drop a pin in the complete silence, the overbearing stillness of the room. Wetting those lips, his tongue dragged heavily across them as he'd take in each action she made. He read her self doubt, her insecurity, the sheer overwhelming of it all. And as the gun raised, the man's breathing went heavier and heavier. And then it came. Click. No shot was fired, nothing but a return to that still silence. Nothing but his chest shaking a moment, and then the glorious chortle that escaped from him. A dry laugh, evil and diabloic in it's nature. The joke had been on her, and he would remove the gun from her hand, turning to fashion a blunt weapon as he'd move behind the man and simply lob the pistol across the room carelessly. "The answer was C. Paint my brains on the wall." And like an artisan, he would butcher the man immediatly with the sudden retrivial of the knife. Taking his life with a single drag of the scapel he had dug out of the box. Letting him fall limply, he stepped over his body. No one had to know they had been here, and as he stepped over the fresh corpse in an almost dainty fashion he would chastise her. "The answers always C. You went to medical school." Moving to quickly fetch the entire box from where it had been left. He had come to get what he wanted from here.

She had no real hold on the gun he could have taken it without trying. She now worried about what he'd do, she'd failed him. The gun jammed or something, again she'd never handled a gun before so she couldn't have been able to tell if it was loaded or not, She sank to the floor, relieved it wasn't her he'd taken his wrath out on. Her knees curled under her well, she watched the Joker butcher the poor fool. His blood now coating the floor and the parts of her heels that it could reach. "You didn't me the opinion of C." She whispered, her hands now against her temples, not caring in the slightest that O Negative was now coating the bottoms of her pumps. "Explain to me how this is helping you? Please.She didn't cry, she didn't scream, it wasn't like she was upset that a life was taken infront of her, it was the fact that she couldn't get her mind around what was going on.

Cradling that box, the contents of which was very dear to him, he would ignore the weakness she showed settled on the floor like that. He had been getting to her, and it didn't seem to effect him one way or another if she wanted cry, cuss, or bawl. Everything was going according to the road he had set out for her, recalling all their long talks. The tests. She had tried to shrink him, and look was left looking worse for wear now. Clasping the crook of her elbow he'd haul her up to standing while he spoke again, as though he was keeping a secret from the poor bastard on the floor. "It's like I told you Day 1. You're not here to help me. I'm here to help you." And with that he nodded to the door for her to open it, ushering her back into the hallway and starting down the hall. Only to stop seconds later and clasp the knob of the door pulling it tightly shut. "Born in a barn." A methodical pace making his way back to her and opening the stair well door for her so she could lead the way back down to the car. "Oh.. and Harley dear," getting her attention, he gave that chesire grin, the scars giving his face a manical look as he spoke, "you need to smile more."

Agan he was greeted with no resistance from Harleen, she kept close him though, almost like she was forgetting he was the main reason for all of this. "Help me?" She whispered again that twang coming back, the sound of it unknown, almost like she'd grown up on the wrong side of the tracks, but she nodded agreeing with him. As the pair walked down the hall she turned to look at him, she'd responded instantly to the name Harley, nodding her lips would soon pull into a small smile, nothing to impressive. Possibly because her lip was sore from the abuse it suffered. Again in that same mannerism, "Anything you say, Mista J."
u.r.a fever
07 July 2010 @ 01:11 am
The instructions had been clear and precise. He didn't hesitate, and not a single word was marred by any sort of error. And so she had been forced to dump out the contents of her purse, and enough money had been pooled to purchase a small room for the night. The cover of midnight had been all but helpful in keeping him under wraps as word was surely getting out that the mad man such as himself had been sprung loose. Wanting to lay low for the moment before having to contend with a certain rodent, he had entered that room well before she had come back with a key. The dim lamp keeping everything illuminated as he sat upon the bed. Cardboard box settled upon his knees as flaps pulled apart and again he would be found rummaging once she entered.

She'd asked earlier why they couldn't just use one of her credit cards, a criminal master mind she was not, but she'd get there. They paid in cash, she'd been the one who rented the room, not the safest part of Gotham to rent a room but she made up an excuse she was travelling through on business. The man at the front desk did not question that, but he let out a low whistle for Harleen's troubles. Imagine his reaction if he'd seen the dried blood on her shoes. Entering the room she saw him sitting there, this wasn't a dream, she'd unleashed the Joker on Gotham once again, or she'd unleashed him on her. "You scared me." She said, her hand on her chest. She still had the thick framed glasses on, once again studying him. "What are you doing?"

He didn't even look up when she came in, it couldn't have been anyone else for obivous reason. To say he was fearless was incorrect, he was simply mad. The question rang in his ears, and finally he pulled forth an object from within the box. Round cannister, silver in color and compact in his hand, it was a rather pleasing change from the former item that had been taken earlier. Taking a moment of sentimental value, he persued that thumb across the platform of the surface before speaking. "Did he ask you any questions?" Disregarding the inquiry into his actions.

"Yeah, he asked what a pretty thing like me was doing in a place like this." She was still in a professional tone of speech. "I told him I was traveling through Gotham on business and I'd be gone by morning." Harleen had more then likely been an althete all her life but she excelled at gymnastics, to a trained eye it was obvious, she was small, petite would be the word, but she was still long in her legs and arms, the limbs still retained a toned firm. She watched him, watched how for the first time he seemed to care about something, another smile curving to her lips.

Fingers locked around the item, vice grip firming up around it and listening for the pop of that air tight seal. Clock wise turn of the wrist would disjar the object and finally spin it off and open, allowing it's lid to be placed to the side. That stark white mess almost seemed to beckon him, and his hand shook briefly before fingers dabbed into it. Abit scooped up, and was smudged against his thumb as he seemed to be in thought. Such an accomplished liar he was making out of her, again that nervous habit of tongue seeking lips before he took his sight to her. "Tell me Harley, how did it feel to watch him die." He paused, before that streak would come down his face. A patch of white working into the scarred features.

When he was brought to Arkham his face was painted, war paint, that's what Harleen called it, it sounded better that way. She felt the first ting of pain when they made him wash it off, she'd spoke to him for the first time before the paint had been washed away. She watched him awe has he transformed. She never got a straight answer about the scars or why he painted his face. Her mouth was left open as he asked her that question. "It felt different, I'd never seen someone die like that before. How did it make you feel?" She'd gone to medical school, she'd seen things that a normal person wouldn't see. She'd seen pictures of what the Joker himself had done, but she never saw it in action.

"Ah.. ah.. ah.." And a finger was wagged her way when she asked him that question. He was more than aware of her background, spending those long hours with her. Keeping his gaze locked on her, he would turn towards her to face more comfortably. Body would lean to the side as he shifted, causing that ratty hair that still held the tinge of green to shift abit in his face. Those fingers curled to beckon her away from the door and more into the room. As she approached he would reason with her as surely as she could have hoped. "Little Harley.. I can't tell you how it feels. You're going to find out in due time, now.. aren't you?" What a dark promise he had given her at that point.

Before coming when he called, she locked and latched all the pieces of the door. Not worried about someone breaking in, but it was more from keeping someone from stumbling onto him. Was she even thinking when he beckoned her? No of course not, she followed his very whim. She was now in arms reach of him, she knew he had no issues with personal space, but she didn't want to risk it, if he wanted her closer he could make her come closer. "I won't kill anyone for you, Joker. I'm sorry." Her arms crossed over her chest, trying to keep her head above water so to speak.

A face was made, heavily wincing as she said that and finding himself unable to accept that answer. Of course it worked out beautifully for him, as he'd suddenly find his hand coming up and clasping upon that face of hers. Fingers wrapped across those beautiful features and were used to pull her down into him. Crown of her skull clasped with the other as he'd shake his hand and keep a single finger across her lips, inadvertently dragging his finger across them as he'd shush before she could protest. "No.. no.. you don't see the big picture. You see Harley, deep down now.. you're what you've always tried to figure out, you've become. There's a lil sayin', it goes.." And he righted her head incase she'd try to look away, the focus would stay on him. "If you stare into the Abyss long enough, the Abyss stares back at you." His voice grew dark, dreary, taking out a low gluttaral tone. "And I've been staring at you for a very.. long.. time.."

That face, the disapproving one forced a frown onto the blondes features, but she couldn't just abandon basic human law because he told her to? She tried to jump away from him when he reached out for her, he'd never been allowed to touch her. She however had placed a hand on his during their sessions and give him a reassuring smile as she tried to coax things from him. He was strong, she was learning that, now in an awkard position her, she tried to go coil herself upward so that he could not feel that much of the doctor, she liked his touch, but that would break all the patient and doctor rules. She winced as he touched her lips, not because of his touch himself but because they were sore. She tried to fight because it seemed like the right thing to do, her little fist balled up and moved to pound his chest but she couldn't bring herself to hurt him.  "So you're my abyss..." She whispered back at him. "What should I learned to expect from my abyss?"

Keeping her subdued in his grasp, he would remain stoic in his grasp of her. That face remained in his grasp, and he would note the ever so slight smear of that brief contact to her upper lip. Saying nothing of it, but fixating on it as she spoke, Joker took about his word play with her. "That in the end everything around you is a joke." Relaxing his grip on her, he would instead smooth that hand upon her skull and go to brushing over her hair. Other hand sliding away from her face as she had been forced to kneel when he tugged her down to that eye level. "It's up to us to pick our punch line." Palming that small canister into her hand, he would take her hands and place her fingers into the paint, letting go of her wrists and relaxing himself as he instructed her. "You know what I want." Again, making her once more symbolic for the bringing about of The Joker, she was given that paint to do.

The thudding in her chest was ringing in her ears. "But you're around me, are you going to be the greatest joke yet?" It wasn't comfortable for her to kneel, in fact she hated it, spreading her legs ever so slightly it took the pressure off her knee joints and allowed a small amount of weight to rest on his lap. Still she was careful, she didn't want to upset him to the point that she was forced off him. Finger tips now covered in paint she looked at him and then to the canister. "You want me to make you...you again. Paint your face right?" She was quiet about it, not wanting to do the wrong thing.

Almost detecting a hint of something else, he would keep it to himself. Tucked away into his memory, the madman would keep her attention on him by guiding her hand. Using her fingers as a brush, they would be guided across his forehead in a messy smear. Unable to see for himself his actions, he'd release the hand. Those sleepless eyes simply stared back into hers, again with the deadlock. "Make me me." The crinkle of the bridge of his nose, before he found that hand moving to rest on the bed to support himself.

Once again an electric jolt went down her spine forcing her to quiver as he requested her help in turning him back. Her fingers dipped into the silver object again and brought up new paint, taking a deep breath she touched him of her own free will. Fingers touching his forehead first, fixing the lines he'd done with her hand. Her fingers careful not to get any in his hair. She did choose his forehead first because he'd started it and she had hoped to build up an immunity to him. She moved downwards as she went, refreshing the paint as need be, she caressed his temples, and was careful around his nose. She had his chin, fingers trembling as she got closer to his lips. There was one thing left, his cheeks, those included his scars. She'd wondered about the scars, but she moved gingerly around them, as not to cause him any pain if there was any from the old wounds.  "I...think I'll need the black and red for the rest."

He had told her atleast twice how he had gotten his scars. The first time having been in a sympathetic light, the second openly mocking the first time and showing he had probably been lying to her the entire time. But she had stopped asking about it, and now as he felt her fingers trace over his face, he would remain silent save for the occasional murr. If he liked her touching his face, he never made a sound of approval. He knew he wouldn't ever need to tell her how to do this, and as she asked for the other colors, he would find himself gathering the last 2 shades she required. Cannisters forced into her hands, closing his eyes to prepare for the black. Finally a moment of piece from that judging stare he had been giving her.

Wiping off any excess white paint from her fingers on her leg before starting with the black, her fingers dipped in the black and she started. The first gentle stroke over his eyeline, she was gentle with this entire process but the parts were she was painting over his eyes, she made sure to be extra gentle. It was almost like a feather touch until she got to the outter parts, under his brow bone and right under his eye socket. "Why did you start, doing this?" She asked trying to make conversation, as she finished one eye and moved the other. "Painting your face like this. As a way to hide you were before?" There was no record on him, all they knew him by was Joker. Finishing up his other eye she'd ready herself to do the red.

More and more the real him actually came to the surface, getting patted down and smeared around those eyes. They began to look more and more sunken, giving him that much more of a depraved look to himself. The charcoal rings finished, he'd snap his eyes open before taking in the scene he was given now. The hand was observed returning once more with the red, and so it gave him limited time to actually respond. He again turned in the certain quality to his voice, as though he was being hushed incase others were listening. "Why did you wake up every morning and go about with your life. Driving to work in traffic. Showing flash cards to all the crazies. More of your innane how do you feel about your mother. Think about how.. boring.. it all was. See, unlike you, I've realized that the face I wear is something I can choose. The face you wear? You've worn it forever. But something tells me, you're getting reeeeeeeal tired of it."

Greeting his eyes with a smile, and a hushed girlish giggle. She was following his que, hoping no one was listening. He had been the only one who'd been able to make fun of Harley's job, but the joke was the truth. She'd grown bored with flashing cards at crazies asking them what they saw and the Joker had been the only interesting thing that entered her life in a few years. "So you chose this face, but why?" Again she followed the same pattern she'd done before her fingers wiping the black off on her leg. Her finger tips going into the red, and starting with his scars, "if it hurts, let me know." She mumbled as she covered one then the other. "My face..." she said in the same hushed tone, she didn't continue because she was focused on much more then her own face. Fingers still tembling moved over his lips painting them as well, smearing where things needed to be smeared. She needed to get off him, she thought, she couldn't think like this, easing herself off him she announced still quiet, "I've made you you again. Go look in the mirror and see."

He could tell before he even got up, the feeling was just there. Her fingers moving about worked across him, and as he had done it time and time again, it became apparent that the masterpiece had been complete. As she slid away from him, he would take to pulling himself up. Just now it was dawning on him how long it had been since he slept, but he willed himself on. Moving across the cheap carpet, he would bring himself up to the waiting mirror. Light casating it's bright glow, he saw the hauntingly familiar features. The streaks of white, those black rings, and the messy smile. Crimson sliding across his mouth and giving him that evil grin. Supporting himself on the sink, he would stare at that look he had neglected for oh so long. The very last piece of the puzzle had been finished, and he would settle to admiring her handy work.
u.r.a fever
07 July 2010 @ 01:10 am
Their entrances had been less than grand. A flare for the dramatics was usual his case, but this time he seemed to stalk, after all he was mad, but he wasn't a fool. There was no need to come in guns blazing and cackling like a royal ass, even though the image playing out in his mind would cause a small laugh to come from him. Aside from the greasy indivual settled at the bar area of the diner, the place was theres. No doubt *he* hadn't been spotted yet, making a shifty bee line as he hunched his head and seemed to sink into the far corner's booth. A roll of his arm and he'd settle that sleeve upon the table. Tap tap went his fingers, always with the nervous fidgetting if he wasn't doing something that required precision from his hands. Like carving.

Harley followed afew steps behind him. She herself keeping her own head down, but who was looking at her face, the quiet smack of her heels on the floor was the only sound she'd make. She knew the geasy indiviual had spotted the doctor in the short skirt and heels. Blazer as well. She followed Joker like a little puppy, sliding into the booth with him, she was on the opposite side. He fidgetted, he also did, but even she was starting to as well. They sat there for a few moments not being bothered. Soon an older woman, middle age came up to them placing the menus on the table with an uncaring thud, Harley jumped, the woman wasn't even looking at them as she rattled off the specials.

A single finger would stab into the dirty menu, dragging it along and giving a once over of it before realizing most of the things on here had a 20% chance to kill him. The nagging hunger would present itself, and he seemed to be weighing his options. In all honesty, he didn't want to eat. And as he'd tick his mouth to the left abit he'd notice she was directing her question at him. Calling him Bud, there was a faint glimmer in his eyes before he'd mumble something, his voice playing down low as he settled. "I don't want anything." Funny, considering he was the one who wanted to stop. Flip flopping once again before he'd clasp his hands together and stare across at Harley expecting her to order something now, tongue doing it's usual thing.

She gave him this look, it screamed are you serious?! She shook her head and sighed, she figured half way if she ordered something made he'd try to eat. There was a small part of her that was getting worried about him. "The special is fine." It was some kind of burger, whatever. At this point she didn't care, as the woman walked away and Harley knew no one was looking at him them or listening to them. "You're not hungry? Not at all?" Her own hands still on her lap, she leaned closer to him, so it was a little more private. She wondered about his habits in Arkham if he ate or slept regualry.

Thumbs would criss cross up and over each other, keeping his hands from being idle again and focusing on those thumbs as she ordered. When the woman would walk away he'd act as though she was pulling him away from something important when she talked. A single caked brow arching up briefly as he'd act as if he had just heard about this hunger thing. Even looking over his shoulder a second before giving in and speaking up again, playing with the pitch of his voice. "W-Who me? Why would I be hungry? You're enough of a feast for the eyes." Little lines like that had been what set this whole thing in motion, yet they had always seemed to be just that. Lines. "I had an idea... and I really think I need to share it with you if we're going to keep.. working together."

She was still amazed that the woman hadn't noticed that she was waiting on the Joker. Harley watched him and studied his movements sometimes there was a shift though, between her studying him as a doctor and just admiring him. "You're a real charmer." She said biting at her lip to keep herself from smile, Harley herself didn't think of them as lines, not anymore. Harleen had known he was trying to seduce her but she ignore it, you couldn't seduce someone who'd gotten so far in life on that. She'd forgotten why she'd allowed herself helped him expect from Arkham. She narrowed her eyes and cocked her head as she listened to him, "Work together? Like I'd be one of your hunchmen?" She noticed the other man in the diner, his eyes on her, she leaned in a bit more her hand coming up to Joker's face and shielding him a bit.

Trying not to look like he was attempting to avoid the shield, and allowing it to just exist. Letting that goon find out who he was might be bring abit of chaos to the meal, what with the endless possibilities that could come about because of them. Head shifting to the side, matching her exact same display as he continued speaking, hands flattening against the table as he talked. He kept his voice low as usual so it sounded like he was focused directly on her. "Something like that.. you see Harley, madness is a funny thing. I'm not going to.. mince words.. I've realized one thing while locked up in that cell. We're all alil crazy, it just seems some of us are more afraid to show it than others." And he'd give way to small laugh, amused at this situation. "Me? I stopped trying to figure out why I am the way I am and just rolled up my sleeves and started working with what I've got. I'm a bundle of energy, a entrepuener if you will. But while I was running around turning everything upside down in my own little world I got abit lonely." And he'd give way to a pouty face while he kept talking. "But then.. I found you.. or you found me. The fact of the matter is dear Harley, what's the fun in alil anarchy and craziness if you've got no one to share it with." And he'd pause, allowing everything he said to sink it. A very penetrating stare remaining on her.

She forgot about the shield she was making and allowed him to exposed to whoever happened to see him, she even moved back, away from his very presence. Her back pushed up against the padding or lack there of on the booth. Logically she knew that she couldn't join him, she'd seen what he did to those who worked under him. She remembered one of the first time Joker surfaced and he robbed that bank, his henchmen killed themselves off for him, or he did the killing. When his own face pouted, the hard stare she was giving him stopped and her face softened. He was getting to her, she wanted him to need her, it'd been that way. At first she wanted to be the doctor that got into the end of the Joker, but she'd later learn that no one could. Then she just wanted to be around him, and learn about him from him. Figure out why he did what he did. And why he was so good at it. Crossing her arms over her chest, she wasn't looking at him this entire time, but she could feel him looking at her. Offering up a small smile, before she even knew what she was doing her eyes shifted upward to look at him and smile came over her own lips. "Alright, we'll work together."

"Good because I'm.. we're going to.. ah.. poison Gotham's Water Supply." Adding that as soon as she said what she did, he was still unconvienced of her killer nature. That was why he had just roped her into killing thousands like he had just said they were going to a really graphic gory movie. Throw in something sweet and tempting and bring on the ugly and the death. It was clear he had timed all of this perfect, for as he said that, the white apron of the waiter would come into view. The plate of food had been settled infront of her and the woman had started yammering about if they needed anything else, staring directly at Harley as if he wasn't even there. Fortune favored the foolish, and he'd slip fingers out around her water and immediatly drag it across to himself. He hadn't said he wasn't thirsty, infact he was down right parched.

"What! We can't do that!" She squealled, remembering that they were in public, she glared at him. "I still am completely serious, I won't kill for you." She watched him drag her glass of water across the table and to himself. Blue eyes focusing on his actions, shaking her head to, to stop herself from focusing on that mouth. The same mouth that had just convinced her to throw away her whole life. "You have just killed yourself if we'd done what you said." And that sentence made her sick. Much like the plate of food that was dropped down in front of her. She nibbled at whatever passed as food. There was something else about that, why would he commit a random act without taunting some winged creature first or the city itself.

"Oh Harley." There was such sympathy in his voice, mixed with a heavy bit of disappointment. He had known she hadn't been broken completely yet, and as he'd click his teeth together, he would begin sniping things from her for himself. A fry that didn't look burnt being devoured with the eagerness of a pack animal. Trying not to cringe at the mix of grease and whatever else was in that, he'd give a stark laugh at her finishing line. "What good do you think you can be if you're going to sit out on all the fun stuff? You know what it's like to hold a gun to someone's head, the only problem is I pulled out." Clasping the knife, he'd turn the dull edge down and begin whittling into the table as he talked. "Look at me.. look. Now I need you to understand, if I can't.. have you comitted.." Scratching into the table more, he seemed to be working on some sort of masterpiece. "..then perhaps I.. can just drop you off right infront the police station. I'm sure they still think you're just innocent little Harleen in all this.." And a sudden rough scratch into the table, marring it abit but talking with a digusted tone. "Boring.. little.. Harleen.."

Pushing her food aside, against the wall so it was out of their sight. Those blue eyes of hers drilled into him, when he told her to look at him. She didn't want to go home, she didn't want to leave his side. Thinking about it, she knew she would have killed the tailor had he tried to harm Joker. And she would have killed the man in the apartment if the gun hadn't been loaded. There was a visible wince when he called he said that word, the word, "Harleen" as it came from his mouth, it sounded like a dirty word. He'd called her Harley for so, it felt good when he called her Harley. "It's not Harleen. It's Harley!" She growled, she actually growled at Joker. "Fine, let's go. Right now." Digging in her purse she held the keys wiggling them infront of him, forcing them to make a chiming kind of sound.

He liked seeing her get worked up, as that thick grin would place upon his face while watching her start becoming agitated by his words. Oh her lovely buttons and just how to push them, it was a thrill to him now. Watching the jingle of the keys, he'd take his hand out and clasp them securely in his own, voice still dripping with mock. "Alright, I'll drive Harleen." Pestering her with that, he'd scoop up the napkin holder in his hand and slide from the booth easily. Knowing she was hot on his trail more than likely, he'd immediatly chuck the metallic object at the later when she started to speak to them about paying for the food. "Put it on our tab!" Giving a rather devious laugh before door was shoved up and back into night fall they went. A stooping bow and arm gestured to the car for her to go first.
"Harley." She snarled once more. She was really in an uproar about two little letters. But she still took delight in seeing him smile, even well she was in that uproar. She was so furious with him that she allowed him to drive. She caught it out of the corner of her eye that he had taken the napkin holder, she figured it would be used as a weapon, she thought nothing of it when he killed. "It tasted horrible anyways." Harley replied to the waitress, as Joker chucked the napkin holder at her head. She had different kind of smile on her face when she heard him laugh, and his laugh. She was beaming well he offered up that gentleman like gesture. Sprinting to the car in those heels, she force herself into the passager seat, waiting eagerly for her newest boss.

Moving after her in a rather calm manner, he had looped his finger into the keychain's ring and spun it nonchalantly. Around the back of the car he went, before door was opened and he'd settle himself in that front seat. Car immediatly roared to life, and then was sent hurdling forward. He would cut a sharp back turn and bang into the diner with one more final f u, only to begin speeding into the traffic. But the entire time he wasn't watching the road, he was looking at the people. "I almost forgot..", and with that he reached behind him and began hauling something out. "While I was rummaging through the spaghetti's things I found a souveneir." And for perhaps the second time in Harley's life she was within five feet of a gun. Thrown on the dashboard, and as luck would have it, not instantly firing off and killing someone, he would clasp the radio knob and turn the volume up, hearing the full effect of Gotham News. "Someone's been listening.." A dreary look at her before waiting to hear anything intresting, maybe about them.

She let out a little giggle as he back into the diner, a pissed off looking cook coming to the front to try and flip them off or worst, but he didn't have a shot gun so there was no need to panic. She got a little uncomfortable around the gun, for fear that it would fire off in the first few moments of it being exposed to her. Thankfully Harley was kind of lucky." Looks like no one was watching the road because Harley was focusing in on him, no longer concerned with Joker's Helter Skelter driving. watching him turn the radio on she shurgged at him. He left her in the car a lot. If he was playing attention he'd also noticed that fingernails were perfectly manicured, he left her in the car a lot.  From the radio echoed the same thing that they had been saying, on the hour almost every hour. "The Joker escaped from Arkham Asylum, killing one guard in the process. With him is a hosage, Dr. Harleen Quinzel. If you see the Joker please, call Gotham Police."

Taking a turn, he would whip the car and cause the sound of tires to screech through that street corner. Driving faster and faster, he'd occasionally whip his view up to the signs, trying to keep with the road and go. Hearing that report, he'd finally be given due course, only to create an immense scowl. Clearly not happy with that, he'd bark at the radio as though the man in that box could hear him. "Killed one guard? I've killed atleast three at this point. You just can't trust the news these days." And another bad joke, for only him to chuckle at of course. Then joy filled his eyes, as he would see that place he had been looking for. The water plant was up ahead, and he'd give a rather loud order. "Harley.. I'd advise to follow the law once and buckle up..", haivng already snapped his own in, and giving her at most 5 seconds, he would go crashing into that gate. The industrial area not going to cause too much notice, but as sparks flew from metal meeting metal he'd whip the car into a turn and a rather sloppy halt. First wall was down, flinging door open and admiring the smokey trail he had made.
She shook her head at his bad joke, but offered him a little smile and a small chuckle. She'd had her own little fit of anger when she heard her supposed weight. "I don't think they've found the lackey yet." She commented, his joy was compliented with Harley's fear, he was going to actually do it? She thought it'd been a joke. There was no interterrmoil in herself now. Biting at her lip she quickly grab the seat belt and click it into place. She held onto the dash board trying to protect herself. The gun went flying through all of this, and she quickly made sure to grab it so it didn't fire off at either of them. Even she had to stop and look at his handy work. "Do you have the poison for the water supply? Or what?"

Leaving the door open, having sprung from the car, he'd make a sweeping motion going around the hood of the car and waving her own. The nice thing about Batman's presence was that.. peace of mind.. he had given. Nobody expected a psychopatic clown to come busting down the fence, nor did they really know what to do when he'd enter that building for the first time. A confused man walking up and immediatly getting a strike of the palm into his mouth sending him down in a pool of blood. "I think I broke his nose." Sounding more disappointed than anything, he had completely neglected to answer her question, either had something in mind or he was flying at the hip at this point. Through the building they'd move, giving a hrm as he stopped and admired the irony of the sign next to him, complete with the Fire Extinguisher and.. axe. Elbow moving to crack glass before taking it out and swinging it over his shoulder. The metal stairs leading them into the world of grinding loud machines and the cackle of his utter glee.

Gotham was just starting to trust Batman again, they'd forgiven him for not aiding their beloved Harvey Dent, he was no longer really the bad guy. Harley exited the car, the gun still in her hand she kept a good hold on it. Tucking the weapon in the waist line of her skirt, she followed the killer clown and former patient of hers. She watched the man who just had his nose caved in by the Joker fall to the ground and scream in pain, Harley shot him a look but it wasn't of sympathy, but of pity. He should have just remained idle then none of this would have happened to him. Protecting herself from any strain glass could come from his elbow, she stopped as he gathered up the axe. She was alittle slower then him still, again the heels becoming a bit of a damper on this plan.

Moving up the stairs in a steady pace, he would hold the banister and allow himself to pace himself. For Joker he had all the time in the world at this point, and it showed with the nonchalant way he took things. Briefly wondering if there was an alarm, but deciding not to be too worried about it, he'd look back at her, facing in her direction while talking. "How's a guy supposed to think with all thi-" And then came the sudden attack, going around a corner and having been lax on his defense, he would eat the incoming blow with complete surprise. Taken off balance he'd stagger across and fall to the floor axe and all. Feet scrambling, he'd right himself against the wall and laugh at the rent-a-cop. How sloppy he had seemingly been, head propped against the wall. "Well.. I guess that's that.." The man immediatly indentifying Harley and shouting out if she was ok, gun trained on Joker who was still smiling.

She followed behind him, beginning to skip steps just to keep up with him. She was almost caught up to him when she saw Joker stop and start to go off balance. Her mouth was left open and she wanted to call out for him to make sure he was ok. her body was positioned to aid him, but she looked over to the man who'd called her name. She couldn't speak her mouth was open but no words would come out. Her eyes still locked on the madman, she wanted to move to help him, but she was frozen in place. Slowly she turned her neck and saw the man who'd landed a punch on her puddin', she nodded at the rent a cop, and something odd happening, tears well in her pretty blue eyes. Was it because someone had rescued her or was it because he had a gun pointed at Joker?

Joker would beg off, although it didn't seem he was actually scared at this point. He was a man whom didn't even have fear register in him, and as those ringed eyes would look between the two, he'd seem to continue to play the defeated criminal. For a second he could catch a glimpse of Harley crying, but he didn't settle on it instead staring directly at the hollow tube of that gun where death loomed. Tongue slashed across his lips, and he'd give a slight giggle at the perdicament. Suddenly he'd start speaking up very loudly, to try and talk over the machine. "So there's this woman.. she's a wife, and her husbands been gone a rrrreal long time at war. One day she gets a call from man in the army, says her husband is on route home, well she's so happy she hangs up and tells allll her friends..." There was probably confusion on the man's voice, and he continues to tell him to shut up, but ol Joker kept telling his story. "The day comes and she gets a knock on the door. Wearing her Sunday best and all.. well.. she opens the door and she's given an urn. Turns out her husbands dead, and she's was too excited about the news that the officer couldn't tell her he was shot in the head from friendly fire." And then a quirky look crossed his face, noticing the man wasn't laughing, he'd speak matter of factly. "That's the punch line."

During this story, the officer had pulled Harley close to him. He kept her at his side, and that alone felt odd to her, it made her want to vomit. He wasn't the Joker, that beautiful man. He was the only person she wanted to touch her. She wanted to push him away from her, she wanted to go throw herself in front of the gun. However the other man's grip on her was so tight. Little Harley couldn't pull away, she wanted to scream at Joker, tell him to get up and fight quit telling stories! Tears still in her eyes she looked over towards Joker. Looking at him for a sign, wanting to find one. As he pulled her closer to him, she felt something cold and hard against her stomach. It was the gun from the car, a smile crept over Harley's face. Pulling at the waist of her skirt, she kept her finger on the trigger and her palm on the handle. Ready to act if he wouldn't.

He kept hearing don't move, and the tense stare down would escalate more and more as Joker placed his hands against the back of the wall. His shoulder blades digging in, he was neglecting to respond to the man's cry for him to stay where he was. Let him shoot him, he didn't think he had the balls, but he kept that to himself. Using himself to climb up, he was breathing heavier just from the drama of the entire situation. And Harley, how she wept and how it drove him into an almost giddy laugh, Joker was laughing now. His own joke still ringing out, he would erupt into that fit of laughter. The rumbling of the water pressurers, the machines that pumped gallons and gallons of liquid all over Gotham being drowned out by the Clown Prince's own maniac like cackle. Chelsea grin more pronounced than ever at this point now.

The officer screamed at Joker to shut up and quit his god damn laughing or he would shoot him. What Harley could see that Joker couldn't was his finger start to squeeze at the tigger, this other arm grabbing Harley tighter. His knuckles were white, and they were threatening to leave bruises on the soft side of the young doctor. One soft tear drop fell from her eye and down her cheek, she had to make a decision now, did she break whatever mortal code she had left and shoot the man in the head, ending his life? Or did she let him kill Joker. His man could have had a wife and children, but she didn't care. Anger, that's what she felt, as she saw him squeeze at that trigger, she knew what she was doing, she was doing it all for him.  Grabbing the gun and pulling it out from her skirt's waist, for her sake and the Joker's had better have been loaded. She didn't even look at the deadly weapon in her hand, she pushed the barrel of the gun into the man's jawline, she jabbed it in there. Against the soft flesh, against the jagular vein. "You were helping him the entire time? You crazy bitch!" He screamed, those were his last words because Harley squeezed the trigger, and then there was a muffled bang. She'd killed. Killed for Joker. "I thought your joke was funny." She said standing at the corpse of her would be savior.

Laughter. Violence. The gun's shot rang through, and registered immediatly. He felt the spray of blood briefly as it shot in an arch and flew across the room. A wife and kids would matter now for the corpse, as he watched him splat to the ground and remain dead. His laughter having stopped at the exact point of death, allowing himself to gather himself with a happy sigh. Her comedic timing was so perfect, even for an amature, and now there was nothing but the two of them. Standing there, he'd look from the dead body, back to her standing there. Maybe mortified. Maybe content with her choice. Regardless she earned what was coming, his voice rumbling low despite the racket about them. "Harley." He had such a precise way in how he said it, showing that she had done good. Damn good. He didn't want to move, he wanted to bask in this.. triumphant. His little play thing, her beautiful mind, was becoming minute by minute more like him. "..Hmmm." Looking back to the body with an idea.

She would hear that the others would say when they saw this, and they would see it. The entire plant was up to the gills in cameras, "Dr. Harleen Quinzel, she was a promising doctor at Arkham Asylum, until the Joker twisted her mind", but none of that mattered now. She'd done what she had to do to save her beloved Joker. His laughter brought that smile to her face, this lopsided kind of smile. She quivered when he said her name, that name she'd love so much, Harley. Harley stood there, again in a pool of blood, this time she was the one who made the pool. She was unsure what how to feel, she knew it had to be wrong, but she felt she did what was right! The gun was no longer in her hand but she didn't drop it, no it was back in it's home.  She looked to her Clown Prince of Crime, there was so much adoration in her eyes towards him; relishing in the fact that'd done well by him.

He stepped towards her slowly, very cautious in her actions since he didn't want to disrupt the current situation or take her off of her possible high. Moving in slowly, he would pause a few inches from her, that intense stare locked directly into hers. His very aura he had, chilling, was probably a warming feeling about her. Moving, he'd clasp that gun's but and adjust it properly so that it wouldn't fire or anything later with her simple moving around. "I hate to ruin your glow Harley.. but I think we need to leave a message.." As he spoke.. he was unraveling his tie and wrapping it up tightly. Moving to the still oozing juggler he'd stoop down and move towards the wall where her art had splattered abit. His hand moving to sweep the blood across as he painted a message on the wall. Arm pumping and swishing before it was clear.


And he'd stop, stepping back to admire his work before his arm eased it out to the side. His grip loosened on the blood stained tie and he waited, not needing to look back, knowing she'd take his lead at this point.

Her finger tip rolled over his arm as he adjusted the gun so it wouldn't shoot and wound her later. The look in her eyes screamed that she would do anything for him, now. And she would. Harleen was dead with the nameless fuck up on the ground and now all that remained was Harley Quinn. Deep down this was who Harley always wanted to be, she didn't want to be flashing cards to crazies all day and asking them what they saw. No she wanted, something so much different something were she'd be respected. Harleen was the mask, the mask Joker said she was getting sick of. Taking the blood stained tie she finished the message to Gotham's Savior;

Harley Quinn

dropping the tie on the ground she'd follow Joker. Taking her rightful place right behind him.
u.r.a fever
07 July 2010 @ 01:09 am
 It had finally happened. She probably had thought at this point he was incapable of such an act, but he did succumb to that one thing we all were pressured into giving into. But the matter in which he did would give indication to how unexpected it had been. In a single chair, having again claimed a hotel to whole up in, his body would remain. Not rigid, but not at all appearing relaxed either. That jacket having been put off to the side, and his sleeves rolled up as he'd spent a good portion of that afternoon busy with *arts & crafts*, IE: clearly working on something that was going to be of heinous use later. He hadn't talked much of her kill, only having given her praise for her actions and welcoming her into as he called it, the adult world. But as his mouth twitched now, he made nary a sound. Clearly his sleep was far from peaceful, as his painted features, rapidly fading from their former perfection she had bestowed on them, would spasm as if he was reacting to something in his minds eye. Curtains drawn, and only a single light cast his form in shadows and gave his entire appearance aloof.

She hadn't said much about the killing, but much to her own shock and the possibly his delight she didn't regret it. How could she? She did what she needed to do and that was protect him, she'd do it again too. The gun hadn't left her side since the incident, she liked it. She liked the cold metal and like the hard feeling against her stomach. It was tricky getting back into the hotel since she was covered in blood, shooting someone point blank in the neck would do that to her. She washed her face off the best she could before she got into the hotel, but everything was stained and borderlined ruined. When she noticed that he was sleeping she stuck off, there was a place she could do laundry in the hotel and well she was doing that she showered, finally getting the chance to wash away whatever matted blood was left in her hair and what not. She unlike him wasn't sleepy, something about murder made you not need sleep. So there just she sat on the hotel bed, looking up at the clock.

Atleast him being able to doze off indicated a level of trust, after all she was in as deep as him now. No doubt Bats would be combing the scene after the police had left looking for some sort of clues. Better still, for fear of what he might have done the water supply for half the city had been systematically shut off for hours to insure he hadn't done anything to poison it. Amusing to say the least, as all he had done was relieve himself properly in the tank before heading out with her. As though he was coming to, his hand moved to the table briefly. Sturdying himself in his sleep or realizing he had dozed off? Regardless, his eyes remained shut and his breathing steady. The ragged clown gathering his senses under the veil of mock sleep now.

She signed her name in the bloody tie, just like he had. The evening news had taken to showing the message over and over again, and Harley watched with keen interest. She wondered how long it'd be until the murder was put out for all to see. Legs crossed on the bed well she turned the TV on, the terry cloth of her towel hugged at her. She had time to kill before her clothes were done. Her eyes shifted over towards him, she'd never seen him sleep before, but knew well that this proved that he trusted her. The news was saying that the water was safe, but it was a classic move on his part to do something like that, even she let out a little giggle before turning on her heels as to give him privacy when her relieved himself in the tank.

Slits appeared, his eyes settling on her as she remained watching the television. It had probably been what stirred him from his sleep, how long had he been out? And then he cast the thought away, time was irrelevant. If you watched the clock you were simply waiting to die. And so he came to full awake, remaining in his chair and ignoring the massive crink he now sported in his neck. He didn't even plan to sleep, but as his palm clasped the side of his chin, he'd turn his head and give a sickening pop. Relief was given in that action, and he'd follow it up with a hoarse cough. Mouth twisted and mushed together before he'd openly spit on the carpeted floor, not wanting to get up he remained seated. And silent.

The pop of his neck was loud enough that she heard it and jumped, the sound made her stomach flip. She'd tried to keep the volume down as low as she could, in fact had she figured it out she would have muted the TV and kept the captions on. "Did I wake you?" She asked, it seemed like a stupid question but who knew. She turned off the television completely then, even if they had been planning to show an interview with the murdered guard's family. Not that she didn't want to see something like that it was just her attention was back on him now that was awake. However she was ready to disappear back into the bathroom if he said something about her current attire.

Why would have had said anything about that attire, heh. Though he was still gathering himself, he had said nothing. Instead he was simply staring a hole through her. It could have been unnerving for anyone else, but with her he couldn't guess anymore. She was becoming a peculiar piece in all of his plans, and as he'd remained leaned in the chair, he'd make some sort of noise. Not much of a people person when he woke up, keeping his vision directed entirely on her in that current state.

Her own head tilted to the side as he looked at her. The blonde's hair not pinned back, it was down and kept out of her face the best she could, there was no comb. Her roots were beginning to show now, she wasn't a natural blonde. She offered him a small half smile, she was happy to have him awake now it got lonely without him. She was about to say something, but she was saved by the bell so to speak. A knock on the door, she knew the old attire she had been wearing was finished now and would be left on the hook outside.

The knock on the door wasn't the best thing to happen right now, as he reacted one would expect not knowing the entire scene going on now. His body stiffened, he was no longer relaxed, and already he was searching for a weapon. That violent streak still apparent even in his sluggish state. Unfortunately the first thing he found was the thin cyclinder object he had been working on. Apparently he was content to blow them all to hell before giving up, or maybe he would be using the prospect of so much death as a means to get away. He was glaring a hole through the door and already working out an escape.

"No dont!" Harley squeaked, but it was too late, she was showing the beginnings of being insane but she wasn't stupid. She wasn't going to stand up and stop him. "It's just the clothes, mine I had to get them washed. The blood." She looked at the situtation that was placed in front of her and she acted, against her better judgement. She walked towards the door, still towel clad, she peek out of the hole, no one was there. She was beginning to believe that Gotham was full of idiots. No one even questioned what kind of stain was on her blouse, skirt and jacket. He made her paranoid though, gun in her hand she opened the door and sure enough found the old clothes with a bill stapled to them. Shutting the door, she pushed her back against it, now worried about how to handle him.

That arm kept out aloft, his rolled up sleeve exposing that arm that led right to a fiery death for both. He didn't take a single second to look away from anything but her and the door. Waiting for her to withdraw the pile of clothes, his gaze steadfast but still uneasy when she closed that door. The lick of those lips, his body tense and uneasy, that man was ready for anything that come barreling through the door. And there seemed to be a sign of.. disapproval at the lack of confrontation. Denied it, the arm would start lowering, before rolling the pipe bomb back onto the table. With that he'd turn stooped shoulder and move to begin rolling his sleeve back down dejected.

"What was that?" She asked, she knew better though, she didn't expect an answer from him, she never got a straight answer from him. She didn't know what it was but she knew it was serious. There was a little bit of emotion showed in her eyes, disappointment. "I'm going to go get dressed." She was used to showing off her body, that's how Harleen got what she wanted in life. From the fancy sportscar she drove, until the Joker used it as a weapon of mass destruction to half the things in her apartment. She even used her body to get herself placed on Joker's case. Little did she know Arkham himself knew that she'd fail at 'curing' him. However to be that exposed in front him didn't seem right, she shouldn't just be throwing herself out there.

The Joker would of course not respond, seeming to shake himself loose abit, he'd allow her to pass but not so easily. When she went to move past him to the bathroom, he'd seem to almost burden himself with her presences. Making her have to brush up against him, being pesky for his own amusement in both personal and physical. Moving towards the door, as though doubting her, he himself double checked. Eye rolling around the peep hole, before retracing her steps exactly. Reaching the door, he made no qualms about pushing it open and staring in at her while she was in the middle of her changing. No shame really, and why would he ever have any at this point? Starting as low as possible and dragging his gaze up that body to take any every bit he could get.

She bit at her lip instead of snapping at him when he got in her way. He was tripping her up, hand placed on the breast of his suit she was able to get through and shut the door to get some privacy. Privacy was a luxury that was she was giving up quickly because of him, she knew he was staring at her well she slept, but to be fair she was doing the same thing to him. He caught her right in the middle of unwrapping the towel from her body, back turn towards the door as if she knew he'd do something like that. There were small bruises on her side left from the dead guard but she warn them like a badge of honor. Skirt slowing crawling back up her waist as she zipped in place, it wasn't until she got to her blouse that she noticed or felt someone staring at her. Turning around she saw him staring at her. "...Wh..what...are you doing?" It wasn't a normal reaction, the normal reaction would be screaming and throwing things at him until he left, more calm then anything.

He didn't even act like he shouldn't have been peeking, he almost expected her to notice. Watching the skirt ride up her, he wouldn't be able to hide his approval in the slightest. When she turned, he would move towards her boldly. Clasping the two sides of the blouse, folding it closed he began doing up the buttons for her as he started talking in a very quiet voice. His fingers worked abit roughly, but he didn't seem to note he lacked the feminine gentleness of the whole art. Ivory button put through over and over. "Harley. You should know as well as I what I was just doing." The final button done in place, and tugging the garment down so that it looked ok, but only half guessing at how she wanted it. He then clasped her face with one hand, folding cheeks up to make her lips pout. "After all.. I read Arkham's file." A stroke was guided softly down her cheek before he'd exit the bathroom, going to find his jacket and let her dwell on that.

The approval of his, it shocked her to hear it. It wasn't something that ever crossed her mind, he always seem to care less about what she looked like durning their sessions. Not expecting to have him stalk her, she made it easy for him she just stood there. She tried to stop him, her hands grasping onto his wrists. She wanted him to relax or at least not be so rough with her or the only shirt she owned, that was going to be a problem sooner rather then later. Fire burned in her eyes that his little comment, he was so good at setting that fire off in her. She was following him in hot pursuit, "What do you mean you read Arkham's file?" She was right behind him now getting his way, something about this didn't sit well with Harley.

That jacket swooped up into his hand, moving to adjust the coat so that he had it hookeda round the color. Tossing it nonchalantly over a shoulder with a easy roll, his arm being stabbed into that sleeve easily as he spun to turn her noticing she was coming after him. Now he was moving towards her just for the sake of making her back up, as he'd begin to read aloud. "November 4th, today Doctor Harleen came into my officer and began expressing a desire to begin persuing the Joker case. She was very persistant and I told her I'd think about it." Now the other sleeve was being pulled up, and he was adjusting his head to give her a single squint of one of those eyes. His voice coming out with a tinge of amusement as he recalled every single thing word for word. "November 19th. Dr. Harleen visited me again today. I still feel she's much too new to take on the weight of a case of this level, she certainly showed me just how persuasive she could be. A body like that is just wasting away in here." And wall stopped her now as he'd slam a hand straight into it, palm supporting his weight as he leaned into her and seeing if she'd jump. That tongue rolled around inside of that mouth working abit. "I guess I did the good doctor a favor getting you out of there? Dragging you out into the Aslyum. Did you figure I was blind? I've seen how you get your way." And black lids would flutter daintly. "A bat of those lashes? You might say I'm bad a foreplay. So while you can sit there and get me to chase you with those peeks of you in the towel, I feel the need to ground you to reality." Other hand came up and he effectively cut her off from any escape, doubting she would but he was proving a point. "You can sit in your towel all night waiting for me to wake up, sitting right infront of where I open my eyes. Play your waiting game. But Harley.. Harley.. Harley. If I wanted something, I'd.." So insidious was those next words, as he'd speak with a sort of sick glee. "take it.." Pausing before lifting himself free of the wall and going back to that rather common speech pattern. "Do we understand one another?"

"How did you even get into Arkham's office?" She grumbled, there was an angry look on her face. Realizing that he didn't need her to get out Arkham, he could have done it all on his own. Right now she had to drown out the overpowering thought of shooting Arkham right between the eyes, she didn't even care that she developed a bloodlust. As he spoke the words Arkham had written and she knew that it was true, because she'd done just that to get his case. She wanted Joker's case, there was something about him that attracted Harley to him. And obviously, there could have been some fame in working on his case. She could have even cured him and made him a productive member of the city. Using her body was something she never shyed away from, it was an amazing body. Or so she'd been told.  She was the type of girl that would be seen on the arm of some old, fat, rich and age billionaire. The young ones held tightly onto their money. But unlike those girls who wanted diamonds and furs, Harley used it to get ahead, she was only twenty-seven but all her schooling had been paid off by her last boyfriend. Harley never enjoyed any of those men, in fact she used them for their money, she hated them she had to touch them. Pushing her back up against the wall, she jumped at the noise his hand made her jump. Blue eyes kept down well he spoke not wanting to see him that angry, biting at her lip well he spoke. He was different, she accepted that fact just recently, Harley never chased, she got chased. As he returned to his normal speech pattern, she lookd back up at him, nodding and replying with a simple. "I understand."

He felt her pouting, and there wasn't much he could do then but give a slight sigh at her reaction. He wasn't sure if she had gotten what he was saying, but she acted pitiful, and he gave in at that. Moving to scratch at his hip, he'd act like he was going to say something else to her, before deciding against it and moving away from her. Wiping his jaw against the sleeve of his jacket, he went to the table and begin pocketing knife after knife into his pocket. "Don't touch anything. Stay." And with that Joker went to the door and would quickly open it, stepping out after and closing the door behind him in a rapid motion.

She'd gotten what he said, but in her mind as clouded as it was as clouded as he made it, she thought he would have already taken it. She wasn't pouting she was slunking, it was like watching clowns exit a clown car watching him back knife after knife. How did he get all those anyways? Letting out a little squeak she tucked her hands behind her back, locking them together she even stood up a little taller. She still obeyed, like a puppy; even after all that. Hating that she got curious about the things he did, she wanted to learn from him, it was always a struggle to keep herself from following him. Even when he told her stay.

Hours gave way, melting time into meaningless waste as he took his little sojourn. What he needed to do, he needed to do fast. And though everything he did, he did so in the most extreme cases. A small spree taking place as he gathered what he liked to call, supplies. Eventually she'd heard that single door shut, and eventually a single groan coming from him outside. Suddenly the door would thud, and the sound of a body sliding up, before he screamed out violently, half in pain, half in desperation. "OPEN UP!"

She finally stopped waiting in the exact spot he left her in. She'd moved back to the bed, she figured that was safe. She heard the groan first and her heart started thuding against chest, her first thought went to Batman. Harley knew that deep down he was looking for them but she never let on that she was nervous about it. The thud at the door made her jump and then the tone of his voice scared her, was it a trick? She couldn't risk it, with her newest companion of the gun at her side, she ran to the door and opened it. Already cringing at what she might have seen.

And in he spilled, a duffle bag above his shoulder, and more importantly his arm wrapped around his stomach. He'd fall to his stomach in a rough heap and give a painful groan. Kicking and crawling himself he'd finally slump himself upon the floor keeping his body pinned down. That black bag having been dropped, the weight apparently too much for him as he heaved and seemed to gasp for air. Joker writhed in pain at whatever ailed him, and would briefly curl his body as though the wound had sent a jolt through his entire body.

She didn't need to be told what to do, she quickly helped him clear the door way. There was fear in her eyes, she stuck her head outside. No one had followed him or so it'd seemed. Locking the door, she stunk down to her knees with him, looking him over she tried to see what had happened. She didn't care about the duffle bag, she was concerned about him. "What happened to you?" Hands now resting one behind his head, trying to soothe him and the other hand his arm that was holding his stomach, trying to see if there was any blood or anything happened. He wasn't laughing and he wasn't his normal, or close to normal self.

Gathering himself up as he forced a grimace, he would scoot his body up and settle back on his knees quickly. Looking as calm and peaceful as he could suddenly become, gone was the wretching and gasping for air. Instead he shoved a handful of his hair back getting it out of his face and looking at her. "Nothing.. nothing at all." A quirky look took over him before he'd stand up fully and go to the bag snatching it up. He seemed to not be trying to laugh. Apparently it had become pick on Harley Day, but he moved towards the table and threw the back upon it, neglecting to remember some of things in it as he pulled at the zipper opening it. "I got you something.. but you've got to promise me.. you've been good." Settling a red plastic container of gas upon the table first and out of the way.

Her fists balled up, she wanted to hit him for doing that to her! The fear was gone, "You son of a bitch! I was scared something really bad happened to you...!" It wasn't like her to yell at him or even say something his antics but she felt like she wanted to throw up after that. She took a few seconds to get up and follow him, she didn't want to at first; she wanted to be stubborn. But when he told her he got a present like most girls she quickly forgave him. "You got something for me?" The happy tone in her voice was back and she soon stood up and raced over to him. "I've been good, I promise. I didn't touch anything." She eyed the gas hoping that wasn't for her.

Giving a couple of dark chuckles when she yelled at him, he couldn't fault her for getting angry with him. Even if it was just a joke, he would neglect to lecture her on that and instead allow her to come bouncing over giddy as she was. Searching for it, he'd talk to her as he was moving different items about. "I was.." , and he'd pause a second and go to place a rolled up amount of rope to the side, "..thinking about what he talked about. You.. erm.. being abit of a tease and all..", funnily enough he didn't say it with abit of malice, "And I asked myself.. what do I like?" That tongue awash upon those lips as he paused and turned to place his hip to the table and face her. "I like killing. And at first, I thought about killing you. But you're better off to me alive.. so I remembered my childhood. And I remembered how much I liked the circus. We talked about that right? My dad? Anyways." Aggitation took over him, as he'd simply dump the duffle bag out allowing assorted items fall out before finding the one thing he was looking for. "If you're going to come play with me, you're going to have to look the part." And with that a crown was grasped and stuffed upon her head, clasping the dangling thorns of the item and pulling it snuggly down atop her head. Too far infact, covering up her eyes. "Happy Halloween." Mind you it was April.

Harley had considered it a good sign when he laughed at her for yelling at him. She'd noticed his previous doctor's yelled and screamed, in her mind that's why she thought she had lasted as his doctor. She wanted to know what he planned on using all of those things for, but knew she'd found out soon enough. Her arms crossed over her chest a bit displeased with being reminded she was a tease. She didn't argue with it, and she didn't even flinch when he said the thought about killing her. She stopped looking displeased when he brought up not killing her, and then even softened when he spoke about his father. The father had been in a couple of his stories. She placed her hand up, like she needed to, but it was signal that he could skip over the parts about his father. Then the circus, he didn't really go into detail with her about it. She didn't get a good look at the object in his hand, just the colors red and black. Two of her favorite colors. Getting it stuff on her head, she left out an mhmfpt sound, and quickly went to fix it so she could see in it. She motioned to the bathroom to let him know she was going to get a better look at in the mirror. Almost skipping she went to examine it, she adjusted it so it laid nicely on her head and fixed her hair as well. There was a loud, happy kind of squeal that came from her. She was a harlequin now, that was one of the first things that had made him take an interest in her, her name. Skipping back out to the main room, she was bold as to wrap her arms around him, hugging him around the shoulders.
u.r.a fever
07 July 2010 @ 01:04 am
How many stairs had they climbed? It seemed impossible to count after the 20th floor, but still they marched up the stairs, him with his almost aggitated walk as that hunched form would walk leather hand locked on the guard rail using it to pull himself up more and more. Slung over his shoulder was the heavy ropes that bound around his wrist keeping it maintained as it swung across his back. Filthy lips marked in the bloody red were pursed causing him to whistle a rather jovial tune. He didn't need to look back, he never did did he? She was always there, the loyal puppet eager to follow and please Joker's every whim. A rather sick little laugh would break way in the tune before he'd stop and find himself looking up the next line of stairs that would elevate him up to those heavens. But then out of the corner of his eye he realized she was lagging behind. This was of course probably because she was having to lug a sizable more amount of weight than him, having handed her off the duffel bag and immediatly zipping off into the building. He'd flick his arm out, causing a glimpse at that bare pale skin and the lack of a watch. Making a slight face, he'd immediatly slap his lips together as his scars began to dry and cause a mild bit of discomfort. Leaning down to stare at her as she struggled he'd give a rather sing song voice. "We're going to be laaaaate." A grumble escaping him before he shook his head as this was her fault, knowing full well who was really to blame but enjoying so much playing with her mind almost as much as other parts of her. A heavy crash of those black lids and he'd roll his blood shot eyes before giving another brisk jog up those stairs ahead of her towards the top floor and ultimately their destination.

Two hundred and sixty or so. Harley had kept track, at least she wasn't worried about exercise today, that was if she ever thought about it, which she didn't. Keeping up with him was enough of a work out. Occasional little noises escaped from her perfectly painted black lips, the noises were simple ones, gasping sighs trying to drive air back into her lungs and fuel her to keep going, the others where when the duffle back was slipping from her shoulders and threathening to make her tumble down those flights the two climbed. Harley never once asked why they were doing this or complained about having to carry the bigger load when he was obviously stronger then her, knowing that from experience. Her own face painted up like the Harlequin her name came from she sighed up at him apologically, those big blue eyes of her lined and circled in black focusing in on her beloved Joker - because she was making them late. "Sorry Mr.J." She didn't dare use Puddin' not in public, not yet. Seeing him sprint towards the finish line Harley willed herself to follow him. Closing in the gap between the two of them, she was by his side moments later fingers still holding tightly onto the bag, never once letting it hit the floor. Floppy crown head down for a moment well trying to catch her breath without making to much a scene.

The foot was raised and reared back, before slamming into a steel door that blocked them from their destination. The creak would snap the door swinging it open and exposing the roof and the heavens to the couple. The light misting of rain coming down, luckily not heavy, would greet them. Ratty green and brown hair shifting as he'd walk out and hear the crunch of the rough surface of the roof. Tongue rapidly swishing out to wipe at his lips as he'd immediatly drop the long roll of plastic sheet down upon the roof. A roll of his shoulders shifted the long jacket slightly upon his shoulders, that maniac carrying himself to the edge of the roof and casting his wary gaze down. Stuffing his head down into his pocket, he'd fish a round in his pocket and pull a coin free from it. Thumbing the penny he'd look to her as she caught up and ask nonchalantly. "How high up do you think we are Harley?" But his look would shift from her towards the building across the way, that target. He'd stare hard at the sheets of glass that refused to show the occupants in them. Twinkle of stars and Gotham's pale moon blessing them with a low light.

She blinked and jumped from the sound that pierced through the only noise that was being made at the time, her breathing. Following behind him and past the thrashhold she caught a brief glance of the stars before baby blues focused back on him. Feeling the light bit of rain tapping at her shoulders she'd remain unnoticing to the climates, or how beautiful this scene was, she just cared about him. Nothing out of the norm there, still clutching that duffle bag until he called for it, she found herself slowly walking towards him, careful not to step on anything or anywhere that was important. Close to him now she could looked over the side of the building, the best she could. Not wanting to get too close, staring at the ground below her brow wrinkled in thought. "Least ah couple hundred feet." She didn't know the exact number, even if she searched for it. She didn't need it, the only thing that mattered is a fall from that height would killl. She didn't know what was going on, but when his eyes moved from her to the building she would get a brief idea, not that she banked on it too much, because after all, her Puddin' was unreadable.

Going to once again look down at the floor below he'd hold the coin up a moment and look at it with as though he was examining. And then down again he'd look, a brief flash back of his brush with death before Batman showed his weakness and hauled him back up. To think all that could have been avoided, if not for a sense of compassion. "You know the old saying about a coin and Wanye Tower? Curious..." He would move to step up on the ledge, trying to find a good spot and balancing himself despite the almost sure fall he could sustain with one mistep. Then he saw what he was looking for, some woman down below walking amongst the rabble. One arm swung up and literally tried to throw the penny down that way. A small and unsteady lunge, and he was quick to fight balancing himself. Arms shaking before he'd stiffen up straight and catch himself from falling before watching the coin rip through the air down at the ground. And then it was out of sight, and he waited with that chesire grin. And waited. And waited. And waited some more! There was no reaction, and he would lose his smile stepping back off the ledge and giving her a defeated look. Joker filled up with a brief feeling of remorse at not getting the reaction he wanted, but that remorse quickly subsided. Reaching into his jacket, he'd quickly unholster a pistol and step back over the ledge before firing a few rounds down at the side walk. A laugh coming out, no more his usual cackle, as NOW people were scurrying and fleeing in the confusion. Sadly at this elevation it wouldn't kill people, but that one chump that was eating the side walk probably hurt like hell. He could so easily be distracted from his original purpose it was almost laughable.

"That ifa coin is dropped from the very top it could kill someone? You know I am." She said this with a small little hint of a smirk on her painted face but it was plain as day in her voice that she wanted to see if the legends where true or not. Following behind him, there were little gasps and whispers of complaints when he jumped onto the ledge. "be careful!" She whispered wasting her breath. She followed right next to him, ready to grab onto his hand or jacket if he did start to lose his footing. When as a gymnast Harley wouldn't be up on that ledge, Harley's hand reaching for his after he threw the coin, the only time she was really scared. Harley relieved that he was off the ledge gave the same kind of defeated look that he had at the debunked Urban legend. She'd grown used to his bloodlust, so she didn't think twice when he pulled the gun and fired, now the little Harlequin cranked her neck to see the damage he'd done. Which she'd gotten her fill of the chaos and panic, she turned her neck to look at him. Crown hid some of her features, depending on how she tilted her head, but the look on face almost screamed focus, but she'd never tell him that to his face, with words. Oh no.

That gun would lose it's clip, and he'd mutter abit fighting the urge to spit off the edge. Shoving it's way back, missing, and having to reapply the object back into his holster, he'd try to shove his hair back across his scalp. Feeling better now, that man would again return his attention once more to that target. Going to take the bag from her finally, he'd haul it and dump it down across that ground and unzip the object to shove hands into the bag. "Harley, people aren't taking us seriously yet. So.. I think.. we need to spark some things up. Have you ever fired a RPG?" Expecting her to say yes, he'd quickly pull the barreled object up, holding onto it by the mouth of the object and setting it straight up only to hand to her. Next came out that small cyclinder rocket, which he held by the neck, swinging it about almost aimlessly as he walked to the edge again and began trying to count the floors of Gotham PD. He'd whisper to himself, seeming to run numbers through his head while returning to look at her. Finally a snap back to reality for the man as he addressed her again. "It's really easy, you just aim on your shoulder and push the little trigger. Yes. That one." Placing that projectile on the edge he'd wander over to the sheet and clasp it roughly, hauling it over to the edge of the buildling as well.

Once the cannon like gun was revealed. The blonde offered him a was a shocked stare, it didn't last long because she was soon chuckling quietly to herself that she had carried that massive thing. Nodding her head in agreement, no one was taking them serious yet, she realized this after the bank robbery and how after a few days the city had forgotten it ever happened. The Water Plant was taken more seriously. Harley was quickly becoming a lover of guns, he had his knives, Harley enjoyed gunfire, but she'd never fired a gun that big before. Her smile was undenible when he handed it to her, finger finding the trigger within seconds she beamed when she got it right. And even let out her happy squee when it seemed clear that she'd be the one firing the gun. She watched him, trying to figure out what the two would be shooting at. Baby blues following his every moment no matter how small waiting for his next command.

He would stoop down and begin working on latching that sheet to the side of the building. Fingers working quickly as he'd try to not notice how giddy she had been about getting to use the big cannon. Drawing and tightening one side, he'd raise up and continue his rather enticing stride across and begin repeating the process all over again. Once he was sure that the tarp would be bound securely, he'd move towards the rocket and quickly pick it back up. Stooped head, he moved along the building while drawing that cell phone free from it's confines of the heavy jacket. A flip top springing open, he'd begin mashing buttons along the phone going through the process to get it dialing. "Now when I say so, I need you to fire.. riiiight... there..." Using the narrowed tip of that rocket to point it out, phone was placed against his ear as he'd wait. A simple hum coming out as he heard the ring start, lurid darken eyes wandering over at her as he'd take in just how she looked with that fine mist slowly coming and leaving a layer over her body. A flight of fancing wandering through his mind as he'd clench his teeth and await the damn man to answer his call already.

He didn't have to try hard to make her happy or get her to make that "eeeee!" noise, she was beginning to love the same things he did. Her trigger finger wouldn't get itchy until he was out of the line of gun fire. Once the plastic sheet, which Harley could only assume was a banner was fastened to the building her anticipation started to raise. Eager to fire the big cannon and even more eager to please him. Focused she followed the tip of the rocket with her eyes locking onto the newest target, she was so focused and so locked onto the spot that she didn't even notice his eyes focusing in on her. That was probably a good thing too, because if she had, her target would have been lost. Obviously he was the only thing that could distract her from her task at hand. No she didn't even notice now the mist had now started to collect on her from standing still for so long. The wisps of blonde that peeked out where now soaked, just like her skin and suit but that offered a much more provocative appearance, making her almost glisten under the moon and starlight. Lower ebony lip being bitten down on well her eyes narrowed bringing the target into better focus.

And finally he'd perk up when he heard that familiar voice. A smile curving on his lips as he'd move to stand behind her now so as to not distract her. He gave a pause, letting a sort of suspense build up before his voice spoke. "Fine weather we're having this evening, isn't that right comissioner? Cloudy with a chance of.. napalm." He'd listen to that man's silence, knowing that he'd probably sent the man scrambling for something or anything. "I need you to give a message to our mutual friend. See. I'm going to keep it simple. Tell Batman, for the next five days, I'm going to be.. well.. let's just say.. having alot of fun. Each night Harley and I are going to be performing magic tricks for awwwlll of Gotham. And tonight is our first trick. I know you're probably expecting me to tell you how you can stop me, but I don't really see why I should this time." And with a grunt, he'd haul the rocket up and quickly stuff it into the back end, a nice shove to put it into place and move to the side to avoid the backfire. "Gordon, I don't suppose you're working late tonight? That's a shame, this first one is a real.. bang." And she was given the go with a sharp pat on her backside, just so she knew she was given the go ahead. His laughter starting up as he'd wait for the impeding launch, that was aimed right at Gordon's office.

Had she thought talking wouldn't distract her she would have thanked him for not doing so, that if she was allowed to thank him. She'd get better with aim as time went on. His voice ringing in her ears, scared she'd miss the signal if she wasn't listening. Her finger ached and started to add pressure ready to fire when signalled. There he was taunting Gordan, Harley and I will be performing magic tricks on Gotham, she fought the smile off well with her teeth embedded in her lip for the time being. Still focusing she felt his now extremely familiar hand give a light pat, which probably was loud enough for both of them to hear, thanks to the mist that coded her leather bound backside. That was the sign. Finger pulled the trigger back the projectile when flying, sending the petite Harley back a few feet thanks to the backfire. She watched with great interest as it crashed into the office that was Gordan's, she gasped and broke into a smile almost as big as his as glass broke and a glimpse of what was going on in the office was given.

The explosion would rip through the night of Gotham, already in arms with the gunfire. They were going to keep it random, knowing they could't be predictable else they'd have a shadow falling on them that neither were well equipped to handle. Right now though it was all about showing Harley a good time. He would give a few more hoos and ha's into the phone before hanging up and throwing it down on the floor. Raising his fine shoe up to stamp it into the ground, he'd break the plastic and send chips scattering across the phone. One phone down, four more to go. Watching the smoldering wreckage that was blazing out of the side of the building, he'd haul her up by her hand to her feet with a quick tug, so she could stand and get a good look. Slowly the weather would worsen, as that rain became abit heavier now. Terrible forecast, but not enough to put out the little bonfire they had created. "You have the aim of Cupid, Harley. I'd love to watch this burn.. but.."

The two had the most interesting kind of date nights. Making a small noise when she hit the ground she didn't know the gun would have that much kick to it as her bottom introduced itself to the roof's floor. Gathered by his hand that's all it ever took to bring her up from a lounging position. There she feasted her eyes on the so called bonfire they'd made, her black lined and feathered eyes now dancing with the flames. This was all practice to Harley, almost like lessions on how to be a criminal master mind, she was learning from the best. If she was learning anything at all, it wasn't like he was explaining all of his actions, she just had to catch on. Phone smashed, she blushed hidden behind that white gease paint, but she was pleased with her own work and his charming words because she tinted her head and hid the girlish giddy smile that was on her face. "but...we must be leaving" She almost knew the answer before she asked the question, they couldn't just stand there. People would figure where the blast came from and try to catch them. That rodent sooner then others.

He would go to the door, and make his way out, before stopping half down the first flight of steps and giving a rather dumb founded look. Turning to go back up, he'd move back towards her quickly causing her to have to scramble backwards. Moving and squeezing past her at the door to get by her, with that he'd rush to the banner and quickly clasp the edge. Hauling it up and going to launch it off the building, that parchment scrolling down to reveal the giant "HA!" and that typical Batman emblem with broken wings. He had made Harley draw it of course, being horrible at it for the most part using Harley to do the things so far that required more.. of a steady mind. Returning back to her, he was rushing behind her to make her go faster down the stairs. He didn't care about gathering their belongings, what were they going to do? Trace prints? Alot of good that had ever done. "C'mon. Go go go go." Hurrying up behind her mostly because he wanted to watch her from behind again. He secretly loved that woman's backside, but never was going to openly tell her. Down, and down that spiral they went, nose scrunching as he'd look back up to ensure no one was following them yet, doing so as well looking down that well before hitting the ground floor and slamming his shoulder to push open the fire exit into the alley way and the waiting vehicle. A hand moving to snatch the back of the Ice Cream Truck's door and yanking it open, he'd swing it open so she could climb in first. Again with that curious, almost nonchalant look around. Noticing a bum now in the collection of trash and cans, he'd give an almost sleepy nod his way, ignoring the gawking look at the man.

Studying him and his dumbfounded look from the steps she quietly winced to herself, thinking that he was going to make them take the guns with them. Now that might have been a problem, she wouldn't be able to move as quickly, even if she'd formed a slight attachment to the gun, she knew there where others, all in need a good home. Doing the banner had caused a slight shift between the two of them, for once she was the one without the sleep well he was dozing off somewhere well she had been working on it. She did a good job or so she thought, he hadn't hated it so it was good enough for her. They already knew who Harley was and they never figured out Joker so it didn't matter, Harley herself had cut off all ties to her old life once she was given her new face. There was more of a hurried movement thanks to his words. Going down without anything to carry was a lot easier then going up with items. Her cute little backside jiggled and bounced as she quickly jogged down those stairs. Unknowingly giving him quite a show, following quickly behind him as he slammed the door open she went out after him, never more then two steps behind him. Gracefully she leaped into the back of the icecream truck avoiding the freezers. Turning she was walking backwards to the passager's or driver's seat depending on his mood but she was watching to make sure he was now right behind her.

When she was in, he'd pause before moving to step around the door and climb in after her. Reaching out, the door's handle was clasped and yanked shut behind them. And then he'd swing around and stare at her. Nothing was said, nothing was done, he'd only give abit of a cough before going to the freezer. Going to pull it up and open he'd reach in and pull out a frozen treat. Scurrying her off into the passenger seat he'd flop down quickly while biting down on the still wrapped treat. The engine roaring as much as it could for such a automobile, he'd put it in reverse and immediatly turn the vehicle in reverse towards the bum. Hearing a slight crunch he'd act surprised at what had happened. Window rolling down and looking out, he'd peer back giving a auspicious look, only to draw himself back in and return it to drive and take off into the now hectic traffic. Unclenching his teeth, he'd bite down again and tear the package off of the red, white, and blue frozen popcicle. Cramming the end in his mouth he'd drive haphazardly, acting as if they hadn't just blown a large hole into the side of a building.

She was fighting, trying to not show her smile. Not until he spoke. Cocking her head to side when he pulled the treat from the freezer, she was unaware there was actually ice cream in the truck, maybe they could keep it until it was empty or ran out of gas. Not like she could grab one with him ushering her into the passenger seat. There was an audible "ow" sound that came from Harley's lips when she heard the crunch, displeasure or discomfort, probably the latter. It made her stomach flip and her body shudder very visible in fact. It wasn't like she felt bad the man, no more or less for her own stomach. Her facial features still didn't show anger or annoyance to him. If anything the only thing she was slightly annoyed about was he had a bomb pop, which she couldn't help but think was so fitting for him and she didn't. As for the hole, it was simply an after thought in her mind as she saw the Gotham Fire Department race to the scene.

Making a few unnecessary swerves, he'd make a rather loud and obnoxious slurping noise as he sucked upon that object abit before peering across at his accomplice. He would ignore as the large fire truck passed by, probably for the best since he'd have thought of trying to side swipe it in it's passing just to let their fire burn just abit longer. Clasping the stick end, he'd finally withdraw the object and smear that tongue against his lips. Clothes abit damp currently, he'd lightly flap his jacket open leaving the steering wheel unattended before clenching his leathered hands across the wheel again with a tight squeeze. Almost on a dare he found his eyes looking to the road and that pop swaying and weaving in his hand, a wide birth out to the side at Harley's direction. For the time being he ignored his snack as he focused on the traffic. Mind running through the mayhem and his already formulated plan for tomorrow. Cog's spinning in thought and giving a rather tense look out up into the sky. He did that alot, always secretly fretting over the possibility of a winged rodent landing ontop of them at any moment. That multicolored object being left out there as bait almost, half knowing she had wanted one and realizing by denying her it, he'd see what lengths she'd go to try and claim a bite of his.

Growing used to his driving skills or lack there of, she didn't even notice the swerves. They were just in the background now, but she'd feel really foolish they day they crashed because she wasn't paying attention to the road. She wondered momentarily who would win in a crash, Ice Cream truck or Fire Truck. She was betting on the big red one. Harley noticed his looks up towards the sky, she never knew why he was doing that. Unaware he was looking for the same thing she was looking for when she went back to back with Joker. Always worried, just like him, that Batman would make an appearance. She was focusing on him instead of the road, no suprise there, but her focus wondered back to the bomb pop in his hand. Flat, shapely stomach started to rumble as she eyed him and treat. Realizing it'd been at least in entire day since she had eatten anything she grumbled. That treat was getting closer and closer to her. She couldn't take it anymore now was her first attempt at stealing a bite; she'd lean towards him and side the popsicle was on, lips trying to clasp around the treat and steal a bite.
u.r.a fever
07 July 2010 @ 01:02 am

Reports were raging now about the attack upon Gotham PD. Words like unprovoked, mad man, and terrorist were being bounced around like the thoughts in that man's head. The ice cream truck now sitting idle at the fence of Arkham, pulling up very slowly and coming to a stop as the guard's booth would begin to show signs of activity. Man wandering up to the truck with a look of confusion before a single hot flash. The bang sounding off but not getting a single reaction from the aslum sitting upon that hill. Out he swung from that open door, hooking his hand upon the door as he offered a glance down to the blistering hole that once was that putz head. No pity, not even abit of remorse was shown on Joker's freshly painted face. That white streak perfectly crafted with his usual rings and big red smile. Moving around the front of the truck he'd reach in and mash the button to begin winding the gate open. No one had ever tried to break *into* the asylum, so already they had their biggest advantage, but Joker's mind had already worked out a number of tricks. Moving back to the truck, he'd pause to remove the man's cap and settle it upon the crown of his head. Wearing the faux police hat, he'd pull up to the mansion humming to himself seeing his former home coming up into view. They were here on business, Joker had promised to liven Gotham up and show Harley a good time. Tonight he had been very precise, having her go and clean her old outfit which she was now being forced to wear. The face however, he had insisted on her keeping. He wanted to show her off probably somewhere in that sick head. As the engine dulled to a dead roar he'd again climb down out of the vehicle and immediatly wrap his knuckle along the side of the vehicle's tall wall. A hoot, clearly giddy about this whole ordeal, but now waiting for the lady of the evening. Both hands slid up along his lower back as he scanned the gloomy and depressing scene, a quick gaze shooting from the curved main entrance to the parking lot to the side and it's speckling of cars. One in particular leaving a devious smile on that clown's face.

The order of get your old clothes cleaned left Harley confused, but it was followed to the letter and the old skirt and blouse no longer was riddled and addled with stains, some blood, some dirt and other things. She'd worn them only a few times since she had offically became Harley Quinn, mostly when she was doing foot work for him, since spandex and a corset would get her noticed. Back in the old heels that corrected what genes couldn't in making her taller, but still she remained much shorter then Joker. She looked different then she had the night the two had broken out of Arkham. It wasn't even the face that he insisted she wear, which she was more then happy to keep, it was how she wore the clothes. Skirt seemed to cling in all the right places now, hugging those hips she how embraced and stopped right at mid thigh level and the blouse left just the right amounts of flesh to the imagination. Blonde hair pinned back and up, but it was ready to fall into her own wild style. The nights, the five nights, Harley had no clue what they would doing or what would happen after they where over, Harley still convinced this was a learning experience for her. Out she came from the ice cream truck, careful but not as she jumped from the truck. Smoothing out her skirt and blouse, she took a deep breath as she stared at the surrondings he'd not so much dropped her in, she knew that parking lot so well. She knew the spot that used to be hers, for her old car before it was destroyed. She stayed close to him, the devious smile on his face was caught but she said nothing. She was more or less taking in all of the surroundings, eyes now narrowing on the building with contempt.

Jawing abit, he'd look around briefly before he'd give a heavy sigh and start up those stairs in a brisk pace. He moved fluidly, almost seeming to stride two stairs at once before the brief incline reached the top. With that he'd turn to look at her as she came up, and realized he needed to focus on what he was currently doing. A leathered hand moving out to reach for her hand as she made her way up, and that should have been the first hint that something was amiss. When she came in range, he'd clasp that delicate hand in his and help her finish reaching the top, before turning to the door and moving to slam his foot into the item and send it flying open. That wasn't the only quick motion either, for she was jerked over quickly and moved to stand infront of him. A quick snatch of that messy hair that seemed to sink claws into her scalp, before she was being hauled into the main room for the asylum. The orderly and attendee at the desk would react in complete shock behind the thick glass wall and door, blocking entry into the deeper recesses of the mental ward. Harley felt a heavy shove that sent her to the floor infront of him, and he moved to stand over her while reaching into his belt loop. Gun was again unholstered, the same gun that minutes ago had taken a life seemingly at random. Digging it into the back of that blonde hair with complete maliciousness, he'd almost snarl as he stared at the men behind the safety of the glass. "Evening gentlemen. I'm here to see some old friends, I know it's late but I trust you'll understand if I insist on you opening that door." And a click was heard, the trigger being winded back by his thumb as he'd offer what could be considered a charming smile, emotions running from anger to complete cool. "That or you're going to need to get the janitor down here for a spill."

Always a few steps behind him, she was thinking to herself about how Arkham Asylum shouldn't have been on the list of places to visit. Loathing the place wasn't the right word, no. She didn't hate it, it brought her her new life, her Puddin', but it also housed her old one and her past misdeeds. She didn't notice or even think about why he was offering her his hand, maybe because she was back in the heels and couldn't move as fast as she did in the flats that came when her old outfit. Reaching for his gloved one, her tiny hand wrapping around his making it to the top much faster then she would have unassissted. She gasped as he grabbed her, curves and thickness pushing up against his lanky build she cried out in shock and pain when he tugged at her hair.  She couldn't even ask why he was doing this, she was speechless, but the emotions where real. Balance lost she fell to the floor and she couldn't stand the sight of him. She felt the muzzle of the gun against her skull and her eyes snapped shut, body even trembling, visibly when she heard the click. The Guards stood in shock, it took them a few seconds to realize that was Dr. Quinzel with them. The guards where cowards, she knew this, afraid of Joker they'd always rough him up, almost like a circus animal, beat them and maybe they'll be weak. Or maybe, they'll snap and rampage. He was rampage and Harley looked up at them through painted face, blue eyes pledging and black lips trembling. "Just, open. the door." She said close to tears.

"5" Began the count, as he'd stare dead set at the men. He remained poised to shoot as he waited again, tongue lashing at his lips violently. "4" And she was nudged with the gun, moving around so that he stood directly overtop of her now, his hand moving to slid under her chin and give a rather soothing stroke of that chin, a single filtering of that leather hand running up the side of her head and softly petting her hair. To them, it probably was as disturbing as his shove of her, but his gentle stroke was given as a silent sign to her. Before that next number could be heard, the buzz of the door was heard, and one of the guards moved to jar the door open and quickly back away. Using that hair again as a leash, Harley was forced to rise up and pin close to him. His arm going around that thin waist as he'd attempt to almost meld with her in that closeness. Gun's tip dragging down to the side of that pretty head. And so they marched, him keeping her infront of him like some shield, as he'd move into the main room that housed the many monitors and the next door that led on into the cells and office area. His jaw rested in her hair before he'd bring his head down and openly speak now, his facade melting away as he spoke in a voice rich with attention back to his clown girl. "Harley. Dead or alive. Tonight, you're filling up Death's coffers. But I'm keeping the main prize. The circus is in town boys. And she's picking who walks out of here and who's getting carted out on a gurney in the morning.." Gun's aim fell to them instead of her, aimed directly, and he spoke again, as though she was the only one in the room. "Play God, tonight.. it's your night.."

Harley still trembled, she had learned over the months being with him that he was unpredictable, and didn't doubt that he'd shoot her if they didn't let him in. Suddenly she was calm, soothed and brought down from that state of panic as he stroked at her chin, blue eyes focusing in on him the panic and fear was soon replace with her normal look of adoration and love. No hint of anger at him, no she knew he had to do it, he had to not tell her because she couldn't act that well. She couldn't play on the emotions of good men, good men that she soon realized didn't exist. He used to her hair as a leash in other situations, so she was used to it, body pushed into him and feeling him, contact still making her racing heart. The arm that was wrapped around her waist was soon met with her delicate little fingers stroking at the avaiable skin  she could get it, but it was made to look like she was scratching at him. She felt his jaw and had to fight not to turn into him. Voice echoing in her brain, the guards stared at her as he spoke. She was going to be death incarnate tonight. Those blue blues of hers staring out at them, speaking without words that Dr. Quinzel the doctor they made their catcalls to was dead. As the gun's aim moved to them she could tell they where stared, and they should have been. Her own devious grin move acrossed delicate little features it mirrored his almost perfectly. She pointed almost like she was picking colors to paint the wall. Moving her hand from his arm she outstretched the thin limb and started to speak, it was almost haunting the way she did this. "Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead." Blood red manicured nail point to the guards who did nothing, who would have allowed Harley to die. But she pointed to the one who had moved and opened the door. "He lives."

And Harley might as well have pulled the trigger herself, only his finger was the one squeezing. The click of metal triggering against the point of impact fired home the first bullet. Now people would be aware something was wrong. Now there would be panic. Now there would be.. chaos. The first red splashing against the wall would cause the others to lose their minds, funny considering the surrondings. One began to cry, the other begging, but each of them received a bullet for their efforts. The bodies slumped and fell where they were, and at last the man whom had shown a sense of compassion was left. Joker would move away from her, slipping reluctantly from and giving a swift brush of the back of his hand to her cheek. He moved to the door, opening it and swinging it wide. A single stare, and the man would seem to balk at this. Untrusting, and he had all the reason to, he would slowly move forward. Joker did little to move out of the way, causing them to brush against one another before the clown stopped him. "You didn't say thank you.." A anger in his voice, before the man stammered quickly and praised the young doctor, Joker would let him go, keeping his word to her again and moving to step amongst the puddles of blood filling the floor as if they were acidic. A dainty leap in a open stain of white amongst all the red, and he'd stoop to pick up the ring of keys. To the door he went, locking it behind them before he spun the key on his fingers. A turn towards her, not giving any apology for what he had done but finding the small mic that patched them into the PA System. A clearing of his voice and a slight whine of feed back, before he sunk into a chair and watched the cameras. "Attention.. ladies and gentlemen.. we regret to inform you that the building is under new adminstration, one Doctor Harley Quinn. All employees are ordered to remain calm and await further instructions. We're going to be shuffling up the activities for the evening.. so rise and shine to all you crazies sitting in your little cells. We're about to have Group.. Therapy.." And that haunting laugh would come out, finding his little joke funny in regards to what he planned. Moving to come back to her, he'd open the door and move into the main halls of the aslyum. Towards the paitents cell.

She would have, she didn't have an issue with killing or shooting anyone.His aim was still better then hers, he knew how to kill better then she did. However the fact that he did this for her sent a jolt and a tingle down her spine and into her stomach forcing her body to shift and squirm a bit. It made her feel her role now, it made her feel like she was someone important. Once the first shot was fired, you could have heard a pin drop. Harley glared almost uncaring of their begging, they didn't help her when she needed it so why should she? She herself didn't even know if she could stop him from killing them once the orders where indeed given. She was unblinking as he fired at the other three. She had to fight herself to keep from making an audible noise when he slipped away from her, the soft pet had kept her whines quiet. The scared guard who had just been spared but forgot his manners thanked her and smiled like nothing was wrong and responsed with, "Welcome!" bubbly and perky, Jersey accent once again making itself known. Now again alone with him, she didn't expect or what an apology from him, she'd ask him later about why he did that, just to make sure the thinking was the same. Leaning forward Harley would watch the reaction to this statement, the doctors in the lounge began to panic. They knew the voice, they knew his voice, and Harley Quinn, they knew it was Dr. Quinzel in the Asylum with her Darling Patient. Stepping over corpses and blood she'd soon follow right behind him, her heels clicking and clacking on the floor that wasn't now painted a sticky red.

He'd move to the first door, clasping the clip board and yanking it up as he caught it. Reading outloud as he spoke. "Thomas Matthews. Skitzophrenic. Apparently killed his mother and buried her in the backyard." A fling of the clipboard, and he'd shove keys into the slot unlocking and tearing the door open before he'd scream into the cell. "Everyone here is aliens! FIGURE OUT WHICH ARE THE BAD ONES!" A moving to the next, he'd allow Harley to hand this one to him. Coughing into his fist, he'd hold the board up and again read. "Anita Moore. Arsonist. Burnt down seven schools." He'd fumble with the keys again absently unlocking the occupant and coyly smiling in at the jittery woman. "I'm almost positive I saw a box of matches back in the main office, why don't you go start something." And he'd again slip away with Harley in tow, forgoeing the reading and mindlessly going from door to door opening and slithering away as he would pry open the dirty mouth of madness and unleash it's hell upon the hospital. A larger door was approached and a familiar smile came across his face. Peering in the hole, he'd peek in and gesture towards Harley, having dug her brain abit about this. "Craaaaane." He'd give pause as though weighing his options, besides refusing to allow any sort of judgment in his current carnival. That door was again opened, and he'd leave to allow the fellow super criminal alone to his own devices. Joker's eyes lit up, and he'd give an affectionate almost ahhh at the last door. This would be the second time he'd found this door giving way to his demands. A clasp of the clipboard before he'd read outloud. "Waylon Jones. Epidermolytic hyperkeratosis. Filed his teeth down at a early age and has a fondness for human flesh." He would rip that small panal open and scream in as though they were old friends. "CROC! Croc!? You look absolutely peckish. How about a bed time snack?" A sound of utter glee coming from Joker as he'd wrangle those keys excited and tear open the door for the giant of a man to allow itself free. Quick to sweep his arm around Harley and move her behind him to safety. Honor among psychos it would seem, was only as far as the big man could reach.

She knew these people some of them where her patients before Joker's case took almost all of her attention, she smiled at each one as they slipped out of their cages, almost reminding her of wild animals free to do as they wish. One by one, the mentally distrubed and criminally insane where freed, no one was here because they suffered a nervous breakdown or exhaustion. They'd be fine mixed in with each other. Harley was from a different school of thought and Arkham's ideals where almost older then Sigmond himself. This in a twisted way was how Harley wanted to treat patients, but with her beloved Joker evolved it was becoming a circus, she loved it. Peaking into the panel she saw the man had tried to bring Gotham down, not as well as her Puddin' had but still. She had a bit of a fear and hatred for him because his toxin had effected the children Harley treated at Gotham General but that was her old life, she didn't care if he was out or not. Crane's eyes settled on Harley for a second, she looked normal, well not super villian like with the skirt and blouse but the face gave it away. "It's a cursed position." She said seemingly reading his mind, since she had at one time his office and his pay check. Then came Croc and Harley got a little closer to Joker, he was the one with the gun. Waylon, she remembered that name when she was told that Joker's first act of escapism had been aided by him. She thought the guards that handled Joker where huge, Croc made them seem positivity tiny. Harley quickly moved behind Joker her hands at his shoulders as she pushed herself closer to him. Almost like she was trying to hide in him as opposited to behind him. Now the pyschos where out, the worst of the worst where now out mingling. The atmosphere was changing the doctors, nurses and guards who where still roaming the halls where now screaming and Harley could smell smoke and even fresh blood. The immates where running the Asylum.

"Now, Croc. I know you're simply itching to run around and make a grand ol day of all this. I need to borrow your... muscle for a minute. I mean, you owe it to me and all. Come.. with me.." He'd turn, moving to scoot Harley infront of him and start off down the hall. What they passed could come out of people's nightmares. Random scenes of violence and confusion scattered about those halls now. One man was simply shaking, convulsions rocking him as he splayed out on the floor with a lack of knowing where he was. Seeing Ms. Moore had found a lighter, he would give a slight pat on her head as they passed, her sitting indian style and rocking while staring at the flame. "Good kid." A shift, as they found the elevator and he mashed his finger against the up button. Waiting as though the entire scene playing out around them wasn't happening, Joker would allow Harley to go first, before following in after her and making room for the beast of a man second. Scanning the weight limit briefly, he'd try to add it up as the door groaned and he'd again press the button to go up. When that door finally submitted to them, he'd see that already some of the excitement had trickled up, as a nurse screamed in horror when Croc moved off first. He would lead his merry band down the halls, stealing a glance at the third floor bathroom as they passed and giving a knowing smile at Harley. Down, down they went, and it became abundantly clear they were traveling towards the heart of this nut house, to the former adminstrators office.

Harley offered her best smile to Croc, hoping that he'd realize she wasn't one of "them", meaning the topical doctor in Arkham. And at this moment Harley didn't even know if she had her medical licenses or not. Moving in front of Joker made her nervous, she only let on she was nervous with the little sneak peak of her pearly white teeth. Scared someone would come up from behind and attack him. But Croc seemed to ....like Joker, fears soon eased up. The utter chaos never once fazed or raddled Harley, it rarely ever, but that was probably because she knew who was at the helm of it all. Harley nodded in agreement with Joker, Anita was the classic case of kids can be so cruel. In the elevator first Harley did the same math problem as Joker did. "He sure knows how to clear a room." She said smiling up to Croc yet again, before exiting the elevator. Harley's gaze shifted to the bathroom as well, this time the grease paint on her face didn't hide the blood that rushed to her cheeks. Walking close enough to Joker, her hand found his gloved one for a second as her pinky finger hooked onto his showing a small amount of affection. Other hand to her neck, at the exact spot the mark he had given her had been, showing that she did indeed remember. Slipping both hands back to her own sides, Harley hadn't put two and two together yet, she hadn't realized until they were almost there that they were heading towards an office she'd been a guest quite a bit. Showing her nerves, almost because she didn't like to admit that past she had, teeth again embedding in her lip.

He'd reach that door and slip his hand around the handle. A quick tug down and a push revealed he was right. A stroke of power would shove his shoulder into it and he'd find no ground given. That sigh that escaped him was over dramatic, as he'd step away and shake his head whimsically. "You're only going to make this worst for yourself. Croc. Door." That large man saw what he had to do, and would move up in a lumbering pace. There wasn't any sort of sizing up or judging, he'd simply place thick hands against it and push. A scratch, and the door jarred and filing cabinet and couch were soon being pushed away. The sounds inside could only show that the man wasn't at all expecting them to break in so easy. When Joker saw enough room was given, he'd deliver a stiff nod to the man before staring him down. Those two criminals seemed to share a silent agreement, before Joker broke into a devious smile at him. "You doubted me.." A toothy grin from the monster of a man was given back, and wordlessly they parted, Joker acting as if what he said had no meaning to Harley, but he always had his hands in several pots. Regarding her, he'd push the door fully open and step into that office, making a face. "It smells like old man in here. Hello Doctor Arkham. I know I don't have an appointment, but.. well.. a former employee of yours has a list of.. complaints." He'd look around, before moving to sit upon the edge of the desk and give the stage to Harley now (a rarity that she would do well to savor), idly pulling out a knife from somewhere and clicking it open.

It had to register in Harley's brain that he was talking to Arkham when he couldn't get the door to move. She knew how strong he was and knew that if he couldn't move the door then Arkham had to have barricaged himself in the office. The door couldn't have been that heavy, but she almost wondered if Croc would have to struggle to open the large door, her question was soon answered when he lumbered forward once again Harley found herself closer then normal to Joker. Brows wrinkled in disbelief and amazement, but hands clapped together as she cheered for Croc and his strength, smiling overflowing. Harley looked over to Joker now, when he said you doubted me. She didn't think twice about it, no she was trying to sneak a peak at Arkham but no, she waited until he'd stepped in all the way. She could see the fear that was on his face, Joker in his war paint that she had done for him so perfectly again was different when the man without it. Of course the female doctor that he tried to seduce and make the other woman wearing the same face Joker did had to be a little scary as well. He tried to puff up infront of Harley, now that Joker had taken to stage left. She moved forward leaning on the desk now, almost laying on it, legs now swinging upright idly. Giving Puddin a view of her bare calf and thigh. Getting closer to Arkham who started to back peddle away from her as the clown girl started to speak. "First off, if ya didn't get my interestin' kind of notice. I quit. You see, my Puddin' has made me see the light. Made me see that the world is 'rigid' and I ain't gotta be someone because some man in a white coat tells me to be. This is who I am, this is who I'm going to be. And Dr. Arkham, if you dont like. I might just have ta kill ya." Closer she got to him, like she would have  if she would have kissed him. She could tell his body was moving forward but she pulled back sitting up with a laughing like of cackle. "That's never going to happen either."

As she let off her steam, he would remain idle. Shifting his hair abit into his face, he'd cast his gaze down and begin to bite at the finger tip of his glove. Tugging at it, he slipped his pale hand free and spat the leather object into his lap. His nails examined, he began to rigidly slide that blade up under and pry away smudges of black clump from under his dirty nails. When she offered a peek, he was obligied to take it, giving a look over to her and listening with keen intrest despite the lying face of indifference he made. He already knew how this was going to end, his body tensed up incase he had to stop Harley. Joker had schemes he needed to carry out. A message that simply had to be told, and Arkham was going to be Gotham's first Martyr. A brief angry jab, and he'd hold the blade up before wiping the edge down the incline of Arkham's desk, only to return to his busy work. A wisp of his tongue sneaking out, before he'd make a small face and crack a faint grin at Harley's bossy words. Recalling the file, the indecent proposal, and how it had all led to him playing his pretty little violin's strings perfect. And this was her reward for loyalty, a chance to realize she didn't have to be societies puppet. Joker was much more fun at pulling the strings than anyone else ever could have been with her.

Both Arkham and Harley turned when they heard the angry stab at the table. She listened to Arkham fire back at her, he told her she was weak minded, called her a whore, and called her mental unstable for being that close to the Joker and even painting her face like him. Harley just shook her head because she knew that wasn't true, a weak mind wouldn't lasted this long with Joker, much less love him like she did. She wanted to kill him when he called her a whore and said the only reason she ever got the Joker case was she happened to be the loosest doctor in the Ayslum. That's when Harley leaped forward, trying for his throat, trying for anything that woud kill him. Unaware that Joker had tensed ready for this situation had it occured and at this point it was bound too. Tiny little hands balled up into fists as she tried to land a blow on him, she'd much rather shoot him. Right now it was more of a release of all that anger she had him any other person who thought that about It was just messy punches that probably didn't even land.

He'd wait for abit, letting her get her pounding in before he'd twirl the blade in his hand and finally wedge it securely in the table. Rising from his seat he'd stand fully and clasp that leather glove only to dive his hand back in and squeeze it tightly over those spidery digits. Turning to walk around the table, he'd move to wedge his hand up and into his jaw, a tilt of his head to pop it. Moving to open his arms out, he'd finally clamp them around Harley and haul her off the man, pulling the fighting little doctor up kicking and such before spinning and setting her down behind him. It was abit comical, the whole unraveling of her from him, but he kept his completely serious face as he'd stalk the man. Leaning over and slowly going to clasp that knife, unwedging it from the desk and following after him. "Shhh.. shh..." And Joker would immediatly secure a foot on his ankle, this stopped the escape. A quick haul, and he would begin to precision stomp the heel of those tailor made shoes, soles crunching down over and over into the man's ankle before he'd quickly sink down. And the knife sunk, stabbing right into the meaty portion above the that foot and hoping that would dissuade him from trying to walk away. With that, Joker sank into a sitting position next to the man, dusting himself off and watching the ichor of blood start to pump from the wound. "I want you to understand something. Everything that's happening in here is because of people like you. You all.. want to control.. everything around you. You build.. walls.. to keep people like me away from people like you. But see, I tear down these walls, and this is the results. You've damned.. each and every one of those.. sane people in there.. to this fate. And for what? Alil bit of safety and job security. You're just like Batman. And you're going to learn just like he is, you can't lock up and control the world's problems. You just really make it angry. We're meant to kill, rape, and take what we want.. when we want it. I'm not crazy. I'm just an extremist. Don't bleed to death in the middle of the night, we're going on a field trip tomorrow Arkham. Just the four of us. You, Harley, Croc, and I. One big.. happy.. family."

Hand moved searching for her faithful friend but remembered it was on the belt of her suit and she groaned out in frustration as she kept pounded her tiny little fists down on him. The nose, the nose, Joker always goes for the nose, just as soon as she got her wits about her and saw that Arkham wasn't even cowarding under her. Moving to strike his nose she may or may not have gotten it when she felt his arms wrap around her waist and haul her up. "Mista J let me go! I ain't done yet! He's still breathing!" She kicked screamed and trying to use her momentum to escape from his grasp. She was trembling with rage when he set her down but the urge to kill him had stopped once Joker started to stalk Arkham. He looked horrorified, Arkham. He deserved to, the why he treated his patients. Harley's arms crossing over her chest as she watch her man do what he did best. She didn't even wince when he started stomping on the bone and she giggle with delight when Arkham as screamed out in pain and his blood stained the very expensive carpetting. Arkham pleaded and begged, he didn't want to go anywhere with Joker. He had a wife and kids and Harley snorted at that, "You don't even care about them, that excuse won't work!" Harley fired back, walking once again closer but very cautionous of Joker much like he had been with her when she killed, she studied the wound, no it didn't look like he'd bleed to death from it. Arkham was helpless though, even if he tried to run Harley in heels would catch him. One of her last routations in med school was surgery, she was still familiar with anotomy and stabbings. Her head cocked to the side when he said field trip, none of this was told to Harley.
u.r.a fever
07 July 2010 @ 12:58 am
Stalking through the halls, having agreed to leave Arkham for his one last night in his office before tomorrow.  He was moving through those halls in an almost stalking motion, steps rigid and precise.  Moving into a side room, he'd immediatly shoot to the window and fold a finger between the folds to peek out and look out into the winding path and it's end.  No cops yet, the lock down having worked to his advantage, suspicious wouldn't be arroused until people didn't start coming home, or phones didn't start getting answered.  He was reminded of one of those paitents with the entire receiver of a phone in his mouth sucking drunkenly on the plastic.  It had been charming to Joker.  Insanity walked the halls of the insane, free of it's shackles, and Joker relished in all walks of madness.  From the harmless man rocking back and forth yelling at his voices to the ravenous Croc whom had set up an almost lair of sorts, Joker turning a blind eye to the fact he was no doubt enjoying a long over due meal.  Harley and him moving through their temporary kingdom, he'd clasp that cap and discard it absently on the floor.  A shift of his head, and he quickened his pace, lips mushing up and giving a quizical look at the familiar site.  He'd pause slowly, coming to a halt and staring at that door again.  The hazy glass opening up the portal to that basic white room with the table and two chairs, fingers looping about the handle and lightly shoving it open.  Nothing bein g said, just looking in the room as memories of the first encounter scratched at the surface of remeberances.

This was their Kingdom, Harley made sure the patients seemed alright, they seemed to be doing better out of their shackles then they did in. Or her own maddness clouded her judgement. Beginning to notice the lack officals, doctors, nurses what have you, she could only figure that it was because they had either taken to hiding themselves in rooms hoping that no one would find them, or people did find them. Harley knew the type who worked at Arkham, a bunch workaholics so someone working late into the evening wasn't unheard of or uncommon. Throughout this entire thing she remained close to her Puddin', seperated from him for minutes at most. Her old life almost seemed like a blurry memory at this point, as he quickened his movements the best she could given the current footwear. Reaching that same door, it struck her were they where. She pushed herself closer to the door and him, slender body snaking through brushing up against him for a moment. Was it really the room? She leaned back and away from him to check the number on the door, numbers matched the ones in her memory. She gasped before grinning, memories slowly flooding back to her. Harley was the first one to cross the thrush hold, sneaking past him she was now in that same room they first meet in. Looking almost the same expect for the clown face and messy hair.

He'd give a slight shift in his step when she moved to press against him, allowing her room and giving a brief amount of contact.  Mind was racing, and those eyes shifted wildly around, until he finally he stepped across next.  Going to follow her in, his eyes scanned to the camera briefly before he'd move around it towards that same chair.  Gripping it's back carefully, he'd give a look to her and immediatly drag it across that surface and give himself room to move and sit down in that familiar spot.  There he was again, but gone was the clean face, the hair either ruffled and messy or neatly done, now he sat there as who he really was.  Broad lavender shoulders, accentuated by the suit jacket, green vest, that wild and dry hair hair crinkled with that tint of green.  He'd lean back in the chair giving his arms free reign to dangle outside of himself before his face distorted into that dangerous smile.  "Good evening Doctor Harley.",  voice dripping with that almost sarcastic tone, seeming amused that they found themselves back where it had all started.

She gave a little jump and spinning twirl before meeting to face him. She noticed the camera, it must have been newly installed since the pairs escape or it had been there the entire time and Harley hadn't noticed. Regardless thumbs pushed to either side of her temples wiggling the other digits around as that pretty pink tongue of hers stuck out neener, neener, neener, to whomever was watching but shouldn't have been. Attention brought back to him, she no longer saw the pale faced gentlemen, who'd made her double take when she saw him, she saw his real self, that she'd helped unleash on Gotham again. Smile growing on her face, as she mimicked him and grabbed the chair had been hers for all those sessions and meetings. Crossed from him now, his war paint brought much needed color to the room. She herself probably didn't look as stuffy as she once had, doctor garb still in check she went to sit, pushing her own chair closer to the table as her legs crossed lazyily over one another. Willing to play along with him, her own smile was offered to him, "Hello, Mista J, and how is my darlin' patient this evening?"

Looking across at her, he'd move to slowly settle his jacket, making sure the folds didn't hang under him.  Situation himself down, he'd clasp the sides of the chair and drag it up to the very edge so he looked more professional.  Staring directly at her, his thumb hooking in to unclasp latch of his glove before sliding it down tighter on his strong hands.  "Well, all things considered, I could say tonight has been a ball.  I thing everything here has so far been in order.  What did you think of Croc?  Did you know he can play piano too?"  Gloves fabric stretched as he tightened then down to the very corners of his fingers.  With that, he'd give a rather insightful look when he reached into his pocket.  Fishing around, tongue peaking out, he'd give a murmur and realize he didn't have it.  Deciding to place that pistol upon the table, he'd settle it down upon that cold metal of that flate surface.  "Just kidding, his fingers are too fat."  Suddenly he knew where it had been misplaced, hand tilting to the side and curling that finger as he beckoned her to come here to him, privately taking in that face and just how much different she now looked thanks to his special touch.

She never took her eyes off him expect for when the gun came out, the same one that earlier that night had been pushed up against her temple earlier that night. She didn't flinch anymore when guns where brought near her person, she was used to them now. A far cry from that night in the apartment. Had he done that now, handed her a gun she would have known if it was even loaded or not. "Croc seems like a sweetie pie." Blue eyes light up in amazement when he told her that Croc was musically inclined but then brows wrinkled and she let out a silent and maybe even disappointed 'oh...' when he lied to her, well fibbed, lying is a harsh word. Her own head tilted and wondered what he had been looking for ready to asked her question was cut short, it wasn't even formulated in her brain when he beckoned her over. Obeying him, her heels dug into the floor as she pushed the chair out so she could stand. Making the short walk towards him, just barely taller then him as he sat and she stood, she was now in arms reach of him.

He'd bide his time while she came over, fingers fidgetting on the table lightly.  He was hoping his guess was right but of course one could never be sure with her.  Once that lil Harley was within grabbing range, he'd fight the urge to grope or snatch at curvier things and instead opt to cinch the front of that skirt as a leash.  Chair again being pushed out, he'd open his legs abit so she could move to the very edge for him, pulling her into the space with a tug here and there before he became bold.  A feel of leather tipped fingers rode up her leg, and that skirt quickly along the outside of her thigh before pressing down and sifting abit.  Of course this hiked that material up, and he conversely could have went over the top to get what he wanted, but where's the fun in that.  Staring up directly at her the entire time, he'd find what he was looking for and drag that aged thin line down her leg.  The card was again withdrawn, turning it over to reveal the two sinister jokers that hugged their corners respectively.  "Sentimental much hmm?  I can't say I'm surprised though, I mean you're always wanting a part of me close right?  Tell me something Har'.  You remember when you first came in this door, with wild ambitions of taming me?"  He was folding that card in a slow turn over his hands now, again admiring the gold and red colors that flare d to light on it.

She so wished she could have just skipped the grabbing part and landed straight into his lap, but she couldn't never be too sure with him. The only time she knew she was welcomed there was when she painted his face. The first sensation of leather gloves on her bare skinned legs, her lips parted and teeth came down to bite on them to hide the more then obvious effect his touch had on her. It wasn't like he wasn't fully aware of this effect. She felt him grab at something between the hip of her panties and she could feel her cheeks get hot with embarassment, the card. Ever since that moment she hadn't been without that card, the first time he grabbed her and his hands moved onto her delicate little features that was the beginning of her obsession, addiction to him. Eyes fought to unlock themselves from his as he spoke to her. Even now, even if they were together almost every moment she was never without the card - even now with the new outfit that she wore. The cards new home was closer to her breasts, because she couldn't size the card between the corset and herself with it getting crushed or bent. It smelt like her now, like her sweat and perfume, a kind of strawberry bubblegum smell, but still was him more. She nodded her head quietly, offering him up another smile, she always wanted him near her, on her. In the room she remembered the first time she saw him, spoke to him. In hindsight she knew she never stood a chance of taming him. "Tamin', is a strong word Puddin'." She said that now, but Harleen was sure she could have done it, "seems like the roles got flopped around somewhere..."

He rose from his chair now, careful in his climb so as not to disturb her or push her away.  Joker's form was naturally taller than her, and it showed when he rose up now, that body still somewhat rigid despite the odd feelings that tickled at his brain.  When he found himself resolute, he would position himself so that he stayed solidly infront of her.  Now she was backed against the table, trapped.  Trapped.  A familiar theme for the two, his two encounters with her before playing into his mind now, that man's painted features causing those blacken sockets to roam down her in that doctor get up that he had always imagined her in more than the stuffy one she insisted on presenting herself in.  Padding at his jacket again, he'd leer over her in such a way that she was herded into sitting up on the table to escape getting squished, closing his face in as he talked to her.  A pout suddenly crackling his seemingly constant satisfied smile as he spoke.  "I didn't tame nothing Harley.  And I never would want to.  No no.. what I did was what every guy has ever wanted to do to you since they first met you.  They wanted the girl who's wild and has no inhibitions.  Harley,"  As he was speaking, he had drawn out another of his favorite little things, aside from her.  Black handle that would click and cause that sharpen blade to come out in a wickedly fast release.  He ignored it for the time, though that hand's knuckles now rested at the front of her shoulder.  ",all I did was make you the bad girl you were screaming to be.  I saw it, from the very first time I looked in your big blue eyes.  You hate the way of the world, just like me."

The shift in height made things right again, her neck craned upward ever so slightly and on it's own she could look into his eyes. Not like she could ever read what was going on with him when his face was painted. As he moved forward, her hands came back behind her to brace herself as her back curved backward to make room for him, but she couldn't do that much longer, no. Feet would push against the floor again and she'd give herself a little boost into the table, legs parting slightly to allow him more room, whatever kind of room she could offer him. Her breathing quickened as his face got closer to hers and she leaned to him seeing just how close she could get before he pulled back. She thought he tamed her, no the word she was looking for was claimed her. She'd be that wild and uninhibited girl, but she'd be his, she never doubted that. Infact that never thought about another man, just him. The image of him looming over her after her face was painted was like a photograph in her mind. Knife came out and she gasped, eyes shifting to the razor sharp blade. After her brief look of the knife she focused back, he wasn't worried about the blade and neither was she; atleast he didn't give reason to be worried about it. She offered him a smirk when he said he made her the bad girl she was just screaming to be, he was right of course and she didn't deny it. Being bad, being like him came almost too easy. The effort was when she had to be good in front of him. "How did ya even know?" She thought of herself as a master of manipulation, at least that was before she met him. She could manipulate those around her to believe that she was just perfect, well now she was just perfect.

He was locked on her now, as he spoke to her openly about what he thought of this whole situation.  That knife however was quickly becoming the center of everything going on.  His hand brushing along the shoulder would find itself raising up now.  His other hand was moving now to go behind and unclasp that messy bun, being so bold as to untangle her hair and start pulling it down and free.  The blade moving to quickly sweep some of that blonde back behind a ear and expose her neck.  That neck.  "Call it a hunch.  Hell, call it luck."  She could feel it now probably, that knife having found itself placing the cold edge against that spot he had marked so long ago.  He remembered the quiet shame she held for it until she came through those doors.  He looked past her now, towards that same door, and how whenever she went through that stuffy nonsense she had worn all along had been cast off from her.  Her mask.  Admiring his sloppy handiwork across her face, he'd smudge his thumb against her ghostly jaw giving a slight stroke.  Still going to carefuly graze that flesh with his eager blade.  "I just know my squeeze is always going to be there, isn't that right?  And she'd do anything for Mr. J?  Anything I ever asked, no questions on her end?  Hmmm?"  A light tap now against her cheek, that wandering weapon slightly smearing some of that paint on it's keen edge.

The blade drew heavy and shallow breaths from her now, but her heart told her to be calm that he'd never hurt her or kill her. It still didn't stop her mind focused on the sharp blade, it made her not move a muscle besides her ribcage and thudding heart. The freshly dyed blonde locks fell and casaded down her back and past her neck. Hiding it momentarily from the knife. Blade against that spot brought those eyes to a lulled close, she could still feel that mouth of his against her throat, sucking and biting with he kept her pinned up against the sink well he explored her. Now he gave her the first taste of being who she really was in Harley that night. She was Harley for him from that point on, even when she tried hard to be Harleen, and for a few hours it would work. But when he really needed her to be who she should have been, she was. First question was asked, would she always be there, "Always." She'd do anything for Joker, that went without saying, she kill for him, steal for him, but she answered just to let him know the answer to the last two questions, "Anything." Feeling the blade against her cheek she forgot to breath, to remembered how to speak. "No Questions."  but how she answered the questions was with almost a whimpering kind of moan that came from her. It happened only when he riled her up.

Worship.  It was the only word for it.  It was something more than love she had for him, and knowing that he had his devoted little clown waiting on his beckoning, his calling, was the closest he could ever come to loving her back.  A sad state, but in the end it was the best the two could manage.  That sharp edge tickled down her throat, forcing her to not give a single gulp when she spoke.  That hand moving to lightly grip the top of that low buttoned blouse, taking care to tickle that tip down her midriff.  His head was coming in closer, that hot breath more aparent as he'd find himself desiring her strongly, and he took what he wanted, a noted fact.  The first button was cut through, that man a expert with a knife, plucking it off and opening that shirt more.  Blade pushed against the tight frabic to the next one, again a single flick of his wrist would send it lopped off and rolling down her body to the floor.  One more to go, his hand locking into her shirt and pulling it towards himself, causing her to slide as close as she could on that table before he severed the last coil that blouse had to staying closed.  Up that edge went along her stomach, traveling in a dangerous curve up before finding that breast and sliding to lightly scratch along the top of that still bound chest.  He liked mixing up her signals, instilling a morbid fear coupled with a no doubt lustful fantasy that ate away at her brain.  His voice again spoke, thick with a smokey sound in it's whisper.  "The things I can do to you.. even I'd blush at saying.  You be a good girl, Mr. J's going to have some fun with his doll."
u.r.a fever
07 July 2010 @ 12:54 am
The headlines in the paper spelled it out. "Blood Bath at Arkham", the news sweeping out quickly of how Joker had performed a one man assault on the lightly guarded establishment and torn it a sunder. News was leaking out and photo shots of different arrays of eye in the sky clips. The eighty or so inmates flying out in a wild panic all with their faces painted in the most perfect of glee. Joker's plan had worked, sending the ice cream truck barreling into the waiting line of police before causing it to erupt in a fiery explosion, that would signal an army of the damned and insane to simply run at the police. Some were gunned down, both they weren't prepared to fire on those whom came charging, and Joker was able to slip away in the panic with a large sack and a few new friends. They had laid low, him now taking his twisted carnival to it's next stop. The sound of creatures groaning and chriping was heard everywhere for the distressed man currently with his head bound and being shoved forward to the waiting scene. He stood before the display pit, leaning back against the safety bar with a coy look that showed he was lost in thought, brows clearly furrowed and extreme concentration etched upon the soiled and now smeared makeup. He hadn't had a touch up since he had for all extensive purposes turned Harley inside out. Long flowing lavender jacket hung from him loosely now, exposing a shoulder, and the chilly air of Gotham's night wisped at his hair causing him to lose focus and push up seeing two that he had nicknamed Bruce and Pryor. "Ahh, our guest of honor has finally arrived!" , the misfortune of using like minded people such as him as they tended to lose focus, briefly lamenting the loss of true hard nosed criminals but taking what he could get, he'd clap his hands together, that leather crinkling as he rubbed them together, "I trust we've all gotten everything? Where's Harley!? I know she wouldn't want to miss the big joke." A scowl at the absences of his prized posession, though figuring her mental state as of late she was sight seeing in the after hours of the zoo.

She was perfect again, or so it would seem, at least in her twisted little head. Little smears of red where visible from the couples visit in the old session room. No longer in the doctor garb if it still even existed or if it was given a proper burial she was back in her namesake's suit, Harlequin. The black and red hugging at her body, squeezing, shaping and revealing it perfectly. Corset now pushing those mounts of flesh together. If you looked close enough and if Joker would allow you could still see smears of red and white on the little clown girl's skin. It was grease paint and it did take a long time for it to wash off on it's own. Crown still placed perfectly on that pretty little head of hers, messy blonde locks tied tightly at either side of her head forming messy kind of pigtails that blended perfectly with the red and black of her hat. The zoo was different at night, animals where awake now and more willing to be on display, maybe it was because some just prefered the night, well others would much rather be active when no one was around. She wondered about the zoo after being shoo'd away or giving him space to breathe. Leaning close to the cage that held the lions, which she scoffed at, because they where the natural enemies or competition of her favorite animal. She thought about how the managed to escape twice without as much as a winged creature or a overly willing cop snagging them. Deciding it was time to head back to Mr. J, she started her walk, stepping and spinning as she reached her destintation. Not even thinking twice she went right back to her normal spot, at Joker's side. Neck craning to look at the much taller Joker, she smile, "Hiya Puddin." She wasn't worried about who heard the pet name Puddin', not with the loaded gun on her hip. It was obvious how that her mental state was quickly going down hill, but it happened everytime Joker touched her, she got worst.

He could hear her coming, that was never a problem. That red and black little sprite moving about and coming up to rest right at his side. That bubbly girl whom was full of spitfire since getting ahold of Arkham would be regarded with a rather tight smile, stretching at his face and giving an almost loving look her way before ruffling her crown. "Hi kiddo." Humorous in the sense that she wasn't much younger than him, but when they got around each other, it was apparent they regressed in age. Taking a moment to lock those chaotic eyes of his into her placid blues, he'd find a brief center before remembering the original reason as to why they were here.


is jaw tensed briefly as those feet made a soft clack on the cement floor. He could tell immediatly the man was already panicing. He had stopped moving, and was now being held in place perfectly where Joker had originally spoke. He was looking to terrify the man, and as he made his way up his fingers clasped into the black sheet that had been bound around his head. With a violent tug, that cowl was pulled from the man leaving him exposed now fully. His diginity had been stripped with his belongings, standing there now in all his naked glory. And the first sight would be Joker's mug, with Harley just off in the background. "Rise and shine Double A. It's time for your big performance. You're gonna be my personal favorite punch line. You remember all of us don't you? Of course you do. All your own little crazies.." And Joker would leer at him, shifting abit in his stance as he seemed to advance on him, before sheepishly looking down and asking with a rather pathetic sound in his voice, noticing the lacking of  any sort of manhood. "Oh Addie. It's NOT that cold out here is it?" And Joker launched into that callous laugh, expecting whole heartedly everyone else to laugh. Except for Croc, whom was conspicious in his absences, but a after thought. Perhaps he was busy swimming with his scaley relatives.

It was the bells that where sewn into her crown, she could never sneak up on him or anyone for that matter, but she didn't have the heart to cut them out. Those big baby blue eyes stared up at him, again complete with the look of love and adoration towards her man. Around him she became a teenager again, finger nails painted some random and obscene color. She'd grown tired of the blood red that seemed oh so fitting considering last nights events, now they were a candy apple kind of green, delicate little fingers sticking out of her fingerless red and black gloves that went with her outfit. Finger prints again not mattering to her, or him. Everyone already knew who she was. She even smelt like a teenager, a cotton candy kind of smell settled into her skin, she even tasted like it too. It went well with the circus theme Joker had been toying with. She smacked softly on her blue bubblegum as Mr. J woke Arkham up. Harley's painted face couldn't hide the expression or disappoint that she had when she realized Arkham was still alive, she hated that man. But it went without saying. She'd begun to lighten up about the fact that he was still breathing when she realized he'd been stripped of that expensive suit and his diginity. Harley smacking quietly on her gum as she realized that with his money and power he was trying to make up for something lacking in a very important department. She picked the winner on that one when it came to Joker, but she'd keep that to herself, the other crazies didn't need to know the Mad Lovers business. Still smacking on that bubblegum she shook her head at Arkham, "How was I even supposa feel that?" She said pointing and trying not to laugh him. Making humor that her own self, since she was a tease or a whore depending on who you asked. Harley's head turned scanning the crowd for the massive Killa Croc as she called him with her accent, when she realized he wasn't there, she made it so that if she had to she'd be only seconds away from Joker.

That man got the reaction he wanted, and even sent a rather snide look at Arkham. That man started looking around frantically, but he would move to clasp the man's jaw and keep him focused right on Joker's scarred visage. That closeness to the man was revolting to everyone but his personal pet, but now Joker was talking in that manner he adopted when he felt every word he was saying was drastically important. A solemn look keeping steady on Arkham as he spoke. "I can tell you're scared. Is it that you know what I can do? What I've.. done? You read my file. You checked me into the madhouse in the first place didn't you? And what did I tell you? Do you remember? I said.." He'd pause, and his gaze drifted to the starry sky above, basking in the truthful bliss of him still being a man of his word. Everyone always thought his comments were empty threats. But he always made good on them. "If you don't wipe that frown off your face, I'm going to give you something to smile about. Yes. That was it. And what did you do? You.. kept.. FROWNING. With your ugly face and it's ugly wrinkles. I had that burned in my head, and then I hated you. But I stopped hating you, and started pitying you. Sad old Arkham in his little playpen and his stuffy little nuthouse. So I shook things up, and I'll be honest. The more I got to know you, the more I appreciated just what you had to offer. I mean.. it's obivous we have similar tastes in women. You just need to lighten up and.. smile more. I'm not going to kill you after all!" And a pleasing smile came upon Joker's face, and he'd nod encouraging Arkham to smile back. That man, fearful and compliant at this point for the sake of his life, would smile back. A awkward moment, with Joker laughing and placing a hand upon his shoulder. A wave of relief washed over the old codger, and he'd even begin to chuckle nervously. And then Joker pushed him back into the plastic kiddie pool he had postioned him into, right into the mess of foul smelling liquid, slosh went the man in the mysterious sustences.

Harley was the only person in the world who liked Joker that close to her and it was obvious by the pet of envy in her face but she listened, just like all the other crazies, all of his little followers who where thankful to him for freeing them from the awfulness of Arkham Asylum. Harley listened and remembered the stories about then Joker first arrived at Arkham, she was still so new at the time and could barely make it through the maze of an Asylum. It never dawned on her to ask, but she often wondered why Arkham himself hadn't taken Joker's case, maybe he'd scared him off. Harley's little hand covered that perfect little mouth of hers when she saw the horrorified look on the Doctor's face. She knew why he was scared, one of the Scar stories that Harley knew to be fictional was the story about his own father carving his face up. Let's put a smile on that face, these where stories, but everyone else thought they were true and were scared of him because it. An upset look creeped over the little Harlequin's face when Joker said he wouldn't kill that man, the man that for all purposed exposed Harley for what she really was, a tease. Now he was laughing with him? She start to vocalized to object, but no words came out and even would go as far to place on a hand on the belt that held her own gun, she couldn't be patient forever with this. Unlike him, or compared to him, Harley was impatient and impusive. Actions stopped once Arkham was pushed into a kiddie pool full of what Harley thought was slop like for pigs, hand back on her hip she tried to make sense of what he was doing, what Joker was trying to do. Easier said then done with the failing and struggling old doctor trying to escape from that awful mess.

He'd find it all the more funny when he personally knew what he was paddling about in trying to right himself but constantly slipping. Joker moved about him, snickering to himself and immediatly moving to interject his form to approach from behind. Arkham started to get up finally only to get a boot in the rear that sent him splattering back face first into and possibly busting his nose in the harsh fall. Making a mock cringe, Joker swept around the struggling man whom was returning to his familiar ground of sheer horror. He could taste what it was, and Joker would stop dead center as Arkham rested on his knees wiping at his face feverishly and allowing a glimpse of that pale skin to appear. Joker shrugged lightly at him, before speaking up. "I had to kill alot of anim- excuse me. Bruce had to kill alot to get all that blood. And yes, you do infact taste steak sauce. After all, I want you to be nice and yummy for our new friends. No no. Don't think like that. Croc's plenty full." He'd snap his hand, and the two men were hauling the man out and up to his feet, oblivious to the mess he now was. Joker was walking off and moving to the railing he had formerly been at, arm moving to curl about Harley's hip in passing and usher her to follow. He'd briefly squeeze her closer, before coming to the railing and slipping away from her. He leaned over, staring down at the exhibit with a twisted look. A sharp whistle, though peculiar in it's sound due to that jagged indentention. What would respond was that nocturnal creature's haunting call, similar to a laugh. Joker would call down heavily, daring to slip over as he barked at his temporary pets. "It's SUPPER TIME cretins!" Arkham's repsonse was typical of someone whom had just discovered his face. A cry of panic and thrashing violently to try and escape the two stronger, partially due to the fact they hadn't spent the majority of the night bleeding, men's grasp. Joker had told em to make the trip over nice and slow, and he'd produce a devilish smile first to Arkham, and then to Harley. He had kept his word twice, Arkham was going to die, but Joker wasn't going to be the one whom killed him.

Harley's hand came to her face, covered that pseudo-shocked expression, "Oppsy-poopsy." She herself mocking Arkham, baby talk always did it for those old guys. If Harley hadn't broken his nose last night, Joker had just done it, she could see through the slop, which could be considered chum now, how his nose didn't look as hooked or intact as it had been at one point. A slight face was made when she thought about the cannibal Croc going as far as to eat the good doctor, oh no, she didn't want that, she figured that Croc would probably get heartburn from something like that. Harley who was safety out of harms way focused intently at what was going on down in that hole. She jumped as her trance was broken and felt the familiar strong pull of a lengthy limb, moving where ever he decided to lead her too, she looked up at him, a look on her face silently asking what he was doing. That curvy body of hers pushing up against him in a moment showing yet another sign of tenderness, whether or not it was returned Harley didn't care. When he let her go she stood right where he left her, standing completely still she couldn't hide a surpised look on her face at the fact that Joker could still whistle do to the deep gashes on his face. Harley moved forward, ready to grab him by his belt and pull him back up if he did start to tumble down. She heard the call of the wild again, from the creatures in the dark recesses of the enclosure. It couldn't be, could it? Hyenas. When they first entered the zoo, the first words out of Harley's mouth was that she wanted to see the hyenas. Her favorite kind of animal, she'd told him this before, when they were stuck in the hotel and had nothing better to do but watch Animal Planet. It would seem odd, for a girl like Harley, at least because of her outter apperance to consider a hyena to be her favorite animal. Joker's grin was matched by Harley's an evil little smug smirk crossing the blondes face.

"Arkham, ol boy! Did you know that Hyena's hold a vast array of acidic stomach fluids that they can digest, well, just about anything! Bones, eyeballs, even those pesky flabs you've got resting around your midsection!" He'd reach out as Arkham was drawn to him, grabbing him by his skull and pulling him over to him quickly. Clasping his jaw, he'd push him towards the edge of the fence and give pause as though he was threatning to shove him over immediatly, but no. Joker wanted to bask in this moment, this pure terror that remained etched on his face as he'd struggle to get away. "Watch it, this suit isn't made out of napkins Addie." struggling not only with keeping him in the path of only that certain dreadful flight over the metal bars and pushing back into Joker, he'd keep acting as if he was going to toss him before pausing and going into a fit of laughter. The torment this poor man was inflicting was interrupted though, when one of plebians came filing up quick, all the while fiddling violently with his hands. He repeated Joker, and he would be ignored as the man was having entirely too much fun with the prospect of death for the pudgy doctor. Finally, he'd grit his teeth and snap sharply at the twitchy man. "Can't you see I'm BUSY!?" That voice twisting into a heinously evil snarl, as he'd flash those grimey teeth clenched in anger at the ceased activity. But then the words came that would send a chill in the air amongst the group that continued to hover around their victim.

"S-s-s-someone knocked Croc out, he's r-r-real bu-busted up."

Harley stared at all of this, again the sick smirk that was on her face almost mirrored Joker's perfectly. She watched, her own body tingling with excitement at the chance to see this man that she hated, utterly hated get feed to Hyenas which she cooed at lovingly. "Aw! Puddin' look at the babiiiiies!" The over excitement was just dripping from Harley, jumping around excitedly her little bells ringing as she bounced and clapped her hands for Joker. Harley couldn't decide what would happen first, Joker growing bored of this game and simply throwing him over or Arkham's heart that was probably lined and clotted with flith from late night meals at Fast Food Stops, which made Harley think to herself that maybe she should do a nice home cooked meal for her and her Puddin'. The entire place got heavy though, Harley who was on the edge of simply boiling over with excitement would stop. Words processed in her head, someone knocked Croc out? Who could do something like that? Croc without a doubt was the biggest and strongest man she'd ever seen in her life, who could have done something like that. Within a manner of seconds she was at Joker's side, needing to know what was going on, and what happened. Food coma she hoped. Another reason she was at Joker's side was to watch his back, make sure no one got brave and tried to be a hero or their new leader. Evne if she was fighting urges to go rush with the person who found him, so she could make sure Croc was okay, make sure he wasn't on the verge of death or something. "What...do...you...mean someone knocked Croc out?"

He held Arkham solidly in place, keeping his hand strongly upon him but no longer making a game of acting as if he was going to launch him over. The fun had just been spoiled, and Joker didn't need to be told anymore before he immediatly started raising his gaze up to the sky and towards every shadow that he could see. It wasn't panic that over took him though, no, Joker didn't look frightened at all. Maybe abit of worry, but that was more that this, which he had worked out, was going to be ruined. That pensive look settled in, and he spat out, "He's early.", which in hindsight should have been as if a compliment had been paid to him. Wracking his brain with what to do, he'd give a look to Harley that seemed to almost border on sympathy. She was a virgin when it came to.. him. Refusing to say the name aloud as if it was some sort of curse, for all extensive purposes that was exactly what this man was. Loathsome. Vile. A winged freak. Before he could bark a order out, Harley was given an answer form somewhere in the darkness. That voice, it came flooding back to Joker, all the good times they had. And he could only smile at that sound of gravel.

"It means let Doctor Arkham go. Do it now Joker."

nd in response, his body tensed and he clearly sunk his hands tighter into the man's neck and turned to put his back to that dark night, Harley's presence suddenly being swept away. "Don't you remember what happened last time you said something like that?" His head jerking, as he seemed to silently order his two men again to start fanning out, trying to keep himself in the middle of the pack safe and secure. As long as Harley stayed near she'd be fine as pie, like always.

 "Whose early Puddin'?" She whimpered, obviously in denial about this entire thing, she knew it was, she knew there was only person crazy enough to actually try and spoil their fun, Harley now saw the good men in blue as road blocks, but Batman. He was someone who Harley actually feared. When she was with Joker, obviously she feared no one, from the thugs to the perverts. Joker'd never save her, no of course not, but it didn't matter, being at the side of that man who wore war paint and had those deep thick scars on his face was scary and was to be missed with. But now Harley's brain seemed to be rattled by all of this, for a moment, just a moment she forgot there was such a thing as Batman. It was fun, from an insane mind's point of view, the sane welcomed the Winged Creature, or they used to, there were still some hardcore Harvey Dent supportors who'd sooner linch the big ugly bat then hail him as a hero. The first time she heard his voice, her entire body tensed up. Not brave enough to laugh at Batman, not yet if Arkham was allowed to walk away from his---Harley would shoot him herself. She could see how tense Batman's jaw got when Joker said the last time. Forgetting the stories they were so many, Harley couldn't keep them straight sometimes. She remained close even if she was swept way, she felt safe with the mass murdering killer clown and was only feet away from him at all times. Still reading two men's actions, Harley's hand rested at her belt, ready to act if she had to, or when she had to.

 "Get him." He barked, and they flooded in. He knew how this would play out though, he had seen it already enough times. Batman always seemed invincible when it came to something like this. The thugs would rush in, and they would swing. Undisciplined louts, being thrown and countered easily as if this wasn't even a difficult encounter. But the fact Batman was so quick to throw his fist out, he'd come crashing into all of them before finally disabling the last thug. Which garnered a unsurprised reaction from Joker, after all he could take care of Croc, he wasn't expecting much out of that whole exchange but a wear down. Ignoring the occasional groan of the men, Joker would give a look to Harley that seemed almost.. partially curious. "I don't suppose.. you want to try?" And it became clear he would have thrown her at him next if he knew she wouldn't have gotten slugged in the fact and probably lost a few teeth. Perish the thought of bruising the toy, he'd give a rather aggitated look back towards Batman, a glaring daggers at that caped crusader.

"Joker. Get away from Dr. Arkham and Dr. Harleen. Give yourself up. This all doesn't have to happen again."

e briefly flirted with the idea, and it was very brief. Thinking to himself, he'd see his only option. His original option. "Sorry Bats, but I've got one more thing I've got to do before I can get to you. Tell you what though, you can fight over this one with the boys." And he'd finally intiate the shove, over went Arkham in a rather violent shove that caused a scream and the snicker snarl of those ravenous beasts below. Joker moved immediatly to snatch Harley's petite wrist, clasping it tightly and yanking her over. "And I'll keep this one as a parting gift.." Typical Batman, moving to run right by them and leap up and over into the playpen for the pack waiting below to feast. Joker wasted no time, jerking her in a wild run, and pausing to send a swift kick into one of the disabled failures that had his arm ripped from it's socket by the trained martial artist. "Good help's gone scares in this town sweet heart."

Harley wasn't in the flood of people, oh no, front pushed up against Joker again in an attempt to hide into him, front of that bound body pushed up against his lower and middle back since she was so tiny, this sealed the deal that she was either his second in command or in fact his main squeeze. Harley watched the Dark Knight get rid of what seemed like twenty to thirty mental unstable men and she couldn't help but tremble a little bit. All she'd ever seen of Batman was those brief moments where he glided from roof top to roof top and someone with a video camera just happened to catch it. No one outside of the thugs he manhandled and her Puddin had seen just how powerful he was, but he was human, she was kind of glad they weren't dealing with some kind of self-righteous were-bat like the papers at one point in time had claimed. Joker's question was greeted with a one hundred and ten percent positive no! shaking her head violently she'd let her Puddin know that she had no intention of going toe to toe with the Batman, at least not tonight. Fingers even digging a little harder into his purple jacket to let him know she'd be stuck to him like glue. Harley gave the big rodent a confused look out from behind the side of Joker it screamed whose this Dr. Harleen everyone keeps talking about? Painted features smeared with red and black, just like Joker's. He wasn't that observation when it came to things like that, obviously she liked the Clown and wanted to stay. She again dug her fingers in deeper to the jacket as Batman raced past time scared he was going to do that thing he did where he grabbed her and just dettached her form her Pudding. A little bit of female rage was brewing in Harley though she wanted to see Arkham get eatten without that Big Ugly Bat ruining all her fun. Wrist snatched and she followed him, this time she had no problems keeping up with him, now that she was back in those ballet flats. She had to hide the grin, she was a parting gift! Again speechless, a mixed in fear and anger she just nodded at Puddin', making sure she nailed at least one of the henchmen in the unmentionables.