Gee I dunno, how big is the multiverse? From what I understand, there's a lot of different yous, and mes, and Batmans, and Catladies and so on!
As for how many of me are here right now, uh... That... that would be two, I think. Me, John, and that... that other guy. But don't go spreading that around, okay? I don't want people to think I'm ~crazy~
Yeesh, that's... that's a really bad time. And kinda different then what happened to me, but also kinda the same.
BUYING is a bit... liberal. I am GETTING tacos. And queso. And Carne Asada. You know, the basics~
It's a huge headache, right? SO crazy! BUT it means even though I'm lost in this Gotham, I still know who to look for. My ~people~. That's you. I can tell, I can feel it. If you meet me, maybe you'll feel it too.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. I've got a BABY kill count. Which means that it's small-- NOT that I kill babies! I'd never, EVER want to hurt you, Harley. Not in any way you didn't really, really want me to 😈
My Best Buddy really hates the whole unaliving thing though, so I'm trying not to do that. Again.
Well I haven't exactly wrangled an apartment yet. Know any good abandoned fun houses around? Nothing worse than cold queso!
Best Buddy? Who you making friends with that doesn't like killin? Everybody I knew you with before was colorfully psychotic.
Good to hear about the babies though, I recently met this kid I kinda took a shine to, sort of took her under my wing, like a mini me. Except she's Asian.
I've kinda been using The Booby Trap over at Amusement Mile when I needed clandestine clown activities. Still has some good places to sit and Bruce likes running around peeing on those old topieries.
Oh he's DEFINATELY colorfully psychotic-- that's why we're such good friends! And it's Batman! Gotta find the one that's kicking around here but that's a LATER thing. You've got my full and undivided attention, Harley 💞💞💞
Okay well I'm definitely not gunna stab a little Asian you, cross my heart!
Oh sure, I know that place! I can be there in 15. Grappling hook is way faster than the bus.
And uh... I'm ASSUMING you don't mean that sexy gothamite playboy guy? Unless there's some real KINK happening here?
You're friends with the bat? That does not make sense. I mean given the time he's tried to put you and me away, and nearly killed us and broken up or gang and ruined anything we've done.
Unless your Batman is batty as his name, if things really are different there I guess that could be.
That's who I named him after! Brucie is my sweet little baby! My hyena, the sweetest thing. He is just the cutest.
But I think I should leave him at home, we've had some long conversation about me and my Puddin and how things went and he's very sensitive about it all, he might not take it well.
For the record I can say he is ABSOLUTELY as batty as his name, Harls. He ~saved~ me, when I was trying really hard to KILL him and also his lying AWFUL friends. I dunno what would have happened to me if I hit that acid but he caught me, mid-fall.
I'm telling you, some stuff is Different. Some stuff is The same.
Hence, Tacos. Reality Bending stories go down way better with Mexican I'm just saying. Also, you have a HYENA named BRUCE? I NEED PICTURES RIGHT NOW. DOES HE WANT AN EXTRA SERVING OF BEEF BECAUSE I WILL GO BACK FOR IT.
[ Puddin'. He can't actually blush, but his face sure feels hot now. His hands are clammy now? Better not drop his phone... ]
Oh. Well, sure. If you want. He's your sweetest baby. But we AT LEAST have to save him leftovers?
It'll be just like the Good ol' days in Arkham... Uh, not sure if you had those. I did. I remember being in such a dark place, but you were there to pull me out, give me a reason to live outside those padded walls... I didn't even want to try before I met you.
HAhahahaha! Only a damn idiot gets between Harley Quinn and something she wants to get her teeth into. That's just science. Common Sense. And okay, okay, we'll do pic sharing! It's on the agenda, officially! So you try not to crash and I will try not to fling myself off a building.
[ He did say grapping hook, remember? ]
Greeks. Got it. I'll make a mental note. Swing by the morgue next time. Not like anyone there can get any deader. Reduce, Reuse, Recycle as they say!
Sure did, I used to work there. On staff that's where I met you...other you.
Anyway, pulling up now so just meet me by the clown nose.
[ Harl parked her car when spent a good thirty seconds wringing her fingers in a grip around the steering wheel. Why had she agreed to this? Joker was bad news, maybe this was just a ploy to get her back. Or maybe this was a ploy to get her dead.
She was 67% sure she was having a heart attack or a panic attack, or maybe it was gas from the coney dog with extra onions that she had for breakfast, but something was causing her distress and she was pretty sure it had something to do with the clown she'd agreed to meet with against all logic and better judgement.
Maybe he was different, her Puddin had never talked to her that way, he'd never offered that kind of kindness before. Hell, his love language usually ended in bruises.
She needed to be smart about this. Whatever else, she had to be smart. So she grabbed a gun from the glove compartment...heh who the fuck keeps gloves in there anyway? and a mallet for good measure. The former tucked into the back of her jorts and the latter balanced on her shoulder as she strolled over to the big red nose of the clown that marked the Bobby Trap side door. ]
[ Now he's excited-- and it's making him increasingly reckless, swinging at faster-than-break-neck speeds on the hissing reel of his grappling hook from one rooftop to the next. His not in full costume; no red lips or black-circled eyes, but this copy of Gotham saw fit to manifest him here in his purple leather duster, pockets lined with some of his 'super hero' toys.
So here he is, dressed to Not Kill. The manic, corrosive laughter bubbles in his chest like something rotten as he sails through the air, landing in a lanky limbed crouch on a sturdy streetlight just doing its best in terrible circumstances.
From afar, he watches her-- his quite his Harley Quinn emerge restlessly from her car and suddenly gravity feels like a lame suggestion. Whoever his Harley is, certainly did a number on him.
Suddenly a snapping set of fanged dentures comes ripping through the air and sinks a hungry bight into that giant ornamental clown nose. Behind it follows the reel of Joker's grappling gun, and the sound of his own blisteringly gleeful giggles; he lands neatly top the big red nose (steals a moment to drop the take out bags there because he does not want to spill the food!) and then rolls down the other side, boneless, like a rag-doll but with a grounding grip on his gun.
And then he hangs there, smiling with a strange toxic potion of charm, glee, and softly simmering obsession. He doesn't blink, but holds an odd and almost theatrical pose with one knee bent; The Hanged Man, if she happens to know the archetype. ]
Wow, you're really here! I mean, of course you are but-- you didn't have to be. Don't gotta be a criminal mastermind to know things between us sometimes get... complicated. But you came, and you're here and despite everything, it's good, like so good to see you!
[ He holds out his (upside down) hand to shake, all eager and teeth-barring smiles. ]
[ Points for eccentricity, not like she was unused to that. Everyone she knew was crazy to one degree or another. You hang around in the nuts house long enough and you just start to become a magnet for it, she was used to that. Still, this was a bit more theatrical than the Jman she was used to.
She skittered back when he landed...hung? Looking all trussed up like one of them tarot cards. What was that one? Oh right, sacrifice. Did that mean him or her? Or her reading into it? Christ, she knew what this was, this was obsessive intrusive thoughts, and they were running her into the ground.
Harley slipped the mallet off her shoulder, bounced off the platform heel of her boot and let it lean against the red nose. ]
Yeah, well I said I would be so here I am.
[ She took the inverted hand, awkwardly twisting to get a look at a face that was familiar and not at the same time. Pale skin, big eyes, wide insane smile. Yeah that's Mister J, but not the one she knew. ]
So you're Joker, but not my Joker. A Joker. And you know a Harley, too?
[ She was still trying to figure that one out. She hadn't run into any other versions of her or him before. What did that mean? There were other Batmen too apparently. ]
[ John gets weird (sorry, weirder) when he's excited-- and his heart is certainly hammering. This is like... the ultimate Do Over! Yeah, his Harley might be ready to kill him a little bit... but he never hurt this one. And she never hurt him. So many shiny New Possibilities.
Reading into every little movement might be obsessive but it's also extremely wise; John can be fawning and awkward, might seem less dangerous-- but he is by no means the totality of this man's personality. But this Hanged Man in particular means to hint inversion, and a reserved point of few.
Or maybe his leg is just tired from vaulting so many rooftops, who knows?~
In any case, he doesn't seem the least bit bothered by the fact that Harley is very obviously armed. That's just good sense, in any version of Gotham. A few quick and fluid motions place the peculiar man on his feet, and then send a quick shot from his grappling gun to hook and fetch his back-pack and bring it zipping back to him. ]
Joker is my 'Hero Name'. More than that, but it's not really good Pre-Taco Talk, is it? Don't want our food to get soggy.
[ He grins, not unlike an eager little Cerberus (because he's way too dangerous to be a puppy) and wiggles the plastic take out bags before her. ]
Soooo... you show me inside, and I'll start talking? About my Harley, if you want. Or anything, really. You can always ask me anything, you know. Anything you want.
[ In the space of a few sentences his aura seems to morph and shift, seeming at moments not too unlike Harley herself, with interspersed whispers of something so terribly similar to the Joker she knew. ]
[ He was off his rocker, which wasn't out of character. Joker had been clinically insane when she met him, it had been her job then her passion to rehabilitate him. She'd wanted to make him well enough to set him free. But in a way he had set her free.
Sure that came with abuse, unprescribed shock therapy, threats, constant intimidation.... ok when she really thought about it, it sounded like shit. But there had been decent times. Of course, she had to acknowledge from a strictly logical point of view that she was not mentally healthy now either, so her recollection was probably skewed. Nuttier than a fruitcake.
But she was fun! ]
Wait...hold up..stop the presses.. Oh I've always wanted to say that.. but seriously. Hero name? You're a hero?
[ Forgive her if she just falls, cross-legged to the ground, tacos cradled lovingly and safe in her arms of course, and looks thoroughly confused.
That one is gonna take her a second to recoup. Hero...maybe..ok maybe that alternate universe things has an alternate meaning for hero. Yeah! She could wrap her brain around that. OK She took the bag in her teeth and straightened into a bend and a walk over on her hands, feet touching down light enough to be silent.
Harley crooked her finger over her shoulder and took the lead into the old, decrepit but homey remains of the fun house. The strong scent of rust, decay and must was thick but this close to the docks it was to be expected. There was a decent enough picnic table set up that she wisely left leaned against the wall to avoid the rats and bats and birds leaving presents. ]
Weeellll... I tried to be a hero. I kinda... messed up. Okay, I ~really~ messed up, but in my defense, there is no way three or four home made bombs should exploded the whole GCPD. That's just poor building maintenance!
[ His eyes follow everywhere she moves, hardly blinking. It's a primal unflinching draw, like a moth to flame. When he follows her lead it's quite comfortably, as though he's used to walking nicely in her shadow like a heeling pet.
Upon instruction, he affirms with a quick and eager nod and a blistering grin. He pops over to the picnic table and begins unloading the goods, setting everything down somehow chaotically and carefully at the same time. He doesn't wait for Harley to do anything-- in fact, he sets up everything for her. ]
There we go-- sorry there's no dessert forks or wet naps. We're really roughing it! [ Sometimes John actually seems genuinely friendly, but his excessive, jarring laughter still ruins the effect. He climbs somewhat awkwardly onto his seat at the table, but cracks Harley's take out container open first, before touching his own.
Clearly, someone had him very well trained. ]
SO!~ [ he scoops up a soft shelled taco and starts puzzling proper bite trajectory] What else do ya wanna know?
I guess I tried to be something else too. It worked about as well.
[ Harley shrugged and took a seat when the table came down. Whoever this John Doe was, he was not her Joker. First off, he was nice, he actually did things. She had expected him to tell her to get the table herself, but he'd really done it. He'd brought food, and not just any food, food she really liked. Aside from Sal's egg sandwiches when she needed a pick me up, tacos were about the best thing in the world.
And then there was the thing where he opened things for her, he... he was acting like taking care of her...no..no that wasn't right at all.
For years before she was Harley Quinn she was Dr. Harleen Quinzel, a bright up and comer in criminal psychology. She'd been one of those people that got name-dropped for having a bright future. That didn't all just go away with a few thousand volts to the noggin and a swim in a chemical vat. Her brains were still rattling around in the old noodle somewhere, she just had to turn them on again.
She hated doing it because that meant seeing herself again and seeing how fucked up she was now. Ignorance of that really was very much bliss. But whatever was going on with John Doe here needed to be looked at so, she studied him with the part of her brain that sat huddled up in the corner hiding most of the time.
He wasn't just being helpful, he was attending. He was deferring. He was...subservient. And happily so. Joker had neer been like that. He had his moments sure, he liked a good time as much as the next guy but he was always in charge. This one, no he was the loyal dog who got beat into thinking those beatings were affection.
Oh jesus, he was the way she used to be. ]
Hey, you don't gotta do all that for me. I mean, thank you, I appreciate that ya did. But, so ya know, you don't have to.
This looks great! I hardly know where to start!
[ But that didn't last long as her bright red lips stick smeared with a mouthful of double meat and bean goodness and a long string of cheese chased it as she pulled it back from her mouth. She giggled and wound it in like a piece of spaghetti. ]
Tell me about your Harley.
[ She spoke slightly muffled with a half mouthful of food and immediately went in for another bite. ]
Sure, sure-- but let me do you one better! I've got pictures!
[ He shoves the second half of a carne asada taco into his (almost frightfully wide) mouth and dries his hands on a handful of criminally tiny napkins before fishing into his sleek black dress-pants for his phone. The case is closer to fuschia than purple, struck through with a single green stripe.
He hums happily, tapping his foot and bouncing in place as he scrolls through his expansive gallery. A good stalker takes many, many photos! ]
Lemme see... oh, nope, that's... that's Batman... that's... Dr. Leland, and... Ah-Ha! Here we go! Check it out!
[ Very proudly, John presents his phone with one of his favorite ever images on screen. ]
It's all of us! The Whole gang! Pretty cool, right?
[ Her assessment of John is absolutely correct; though he did still become some mutant variant of The Joker, though that darkness still stalks too close to the surface, there is also another side of him. A side that his Harley Quinn and his Bruce Wayne both twisted to their own devices, and made real in doing so. ]
[ Harley munched while he finished his taco in a Megalodon bite. He had a strange frenetic energy to him that she could sort of see from her Puddin, maybe if she turned upside down, squinted, and had a few drinks. There were traits about him that were there, it was just so different. ]
Friends with a Doctor?
[ She made a note of that but leaned in to look at...whoa....she looked severe. There was definitely something not right with that woman, which made sense if it was her. The body language of the picture said a lot, John desperate to be cared for among friends, his Harley possessive and commanding, his friends lording over him with tolerance but not appreciation. Except the one man. He seemed to have a sincere emotional expression. ]
Who are the rest of your friends?
[ She patted down her pockets to find her phone, the Hello Kitty case was slightly mutilated and had teeth marks. They weren't human teeth marks but, well, sometimes Bruce liked to nibble.
She thumbed through her gallery, which was a blur of bright images until she found what she was looking for. She showed him the picture. ]
[ The Joker is definitely there, lurking, if not quite fully present. There are advantages to John's persona-- he's disarming, he makes people lower their guard or underestimate the clown. He's useful, even to the darker side of his personality; that's part of why he exists at all. ]
Yup! Dr. Leland-- she's pretty great! Not as great as Dr. Quinzel obviously, but still. I needed at least one staff member looking out for my best interests after you quit... [ Case in point; his last statement is rather deliberately composed, suggesting with an unspoken cunning that in Arkham, of course it's wise to keep a staff member on your side or under your thumb. Record scratch, and he's back to that Way Too Eager grin, watching Harley observe his screen. ]
Other than You and Me, The Blue Guy is Freeze and the Luchador is Bane. The stupidly sexy guy is Bruce Wayne.
[ His gaze jumps to Harley's phone and his grin intensifies with a delighted burst of ringing chuckles. ]
Oh man-- still handsome as heck! What I wouldn't give to swap places with that licorice!
[ He was simmering, there was more to him than appeared, and she wasn't so sure about those parts that she couldn't see. The viscera of his personality that was all blood and guts under there could be teeth. ]
Things didn't work out so well for me when the Joker here got close to me. Or I got close to him. It went bad. [ No reason to get into that, she kept those cards to herself for now. ]
[ But she checked out the other guys, trying to see if they rang a bell with her. But she was coming up short. Freeze? Bane...well that one maybe sounded a little familiar. Something about chemicals, maybe in another country? But if he was there maybe he was here too, it made sense. Maybe the world of whack jobs and freaks was bigger than she or Mister J ever thought. ]
Oh, Bruce is cute in any universe, huh? Yeah, that's why my lil baby is named for him. Gotta call him something as handsome as he is.
[ She chuckled a little nervously to his joke abut the licorice. Should she be worried about her Brucie? ]
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no subject
As for how many of me are here right now, uh... That... that would be two, I think. Me, John, and that... that other guy. But don't go spreading that around, okay? I don't want people to think I'm ~crazy~
Yeesh, that's... that's a really bad time. And kinda different then what happened to me, but also kinda the same.
BUYING is a bit... liberal. I am GETTING tacos. And queso. And Carne Asada. You know, the basics~
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If, and that's a big if, I agree to this, you gotta promise no killing, maiming or threatin to kill or maim me.
Ohhh god, I can almost taste the jalapenos. Where are we meeting?
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Yeah, yeah, yeah. I've got a BABY kill count. Which means that it's small-- NOT that I kill babies! I'd never, EVER want to hurt you, Harley. Not in any way you didn't really, really want me to 😈
My Best Buddy really hates the whole unaliving thing though, so I'm trying not to do that. Again.
Well I haven't exactly wrangled an apartment yet. Know any good abandoned fun houses around? Nothing worse than cold queso!
no subject
Good to hear about the babies though, I recently met this kid I kinda took a shine to, sort of took her under my wing, like a mini me. Except she's Asian.
I've kinda been using The Booby Trap over at Amusement Mile when I needed clandestine clown activities. Still has some good places to sit and Bruce likes running around peeing on those old topieries.
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Okay well I'm definitely not gunna stab a little Asian you, cross my heart!
Oh sure, I know that place! I can be there in 15. Grappling hook is way faster than the bus.
And uh... I'm ASSUMING you don't mean that sexy gothamite playboy guy? Unless there's some real KINK happening here?
no subject
Unless your Batman is batty as his name, if things really are different there I guess that could be.
That's who I named him after! Brucie is my sweet little baby! My hyena, the sweetest thing. He is just the cutest.
But I think I should leave him at home, we've had some long conversation about me and my Puddin and how things went and he's very sensitive about it all, he might not take it well.
no subject
I'm telling you, some stuff is Different. Some stuff is The same.
Hence, Tacos. Reality Bending stories go down way better with Mexican I'm just saying. Also, you have a HYENA named BRUCE? I NEED PICTURES RIGHT NOW. DOES HE WANT AN EXTRA SERVING OF BEEF BECAUSE I WILL GO BACK FOR IT.
[ Puddin'. He can't actually blush, but his face sure feels hot now. His hands are clammy now? Better not drop his phone... ]
Oh. Well, sure. If you want. He's your sweetest baby. But we AT LEAST have to save him leftovers?
no subject
Science and reality over tacos, sounds about right. I practically fought off an entire gang for an egg sandwich once.
I'll show you pics when I get there, driving with my knee and texting, adding pics might be pushing my luck.
He'd love the leftovers though, he eats anything. He really likes greeks though.
ETA 7ish minutes
[ Yeah, she said greeks, not greek... don't ask. ]
i'm cool switching to actionspam whenever if ya fancy <3
HAhahahaha! Only a damn idiot gets between Harley Quinn and something she wants to get her teeth into. That's just science. Common Sense. And okay, okay, we'll do pic sharing! It's on the agenda, officially! So you try not to crash and I will try not to fling myself off a building.
[ He did say grapping hook, remember? ]
Greeks. Got it. I'll make a mental note. Swing by the morgue next time. Not like anyone there can get any deader. Reduce, Reuse, Recycle as they say!
ETA 13 minutes!
no subject
Anyway, pulling up now so just meet me by the clown nose.
[ Harl parked her car when spent a good thirty seconds wringing her fingers in a grip around the steering wheel. Why had she agreed to this? Joker was bad news, maybe this was just a ploy to get her back. Or maybe this was a ploy to get her dead.
She was 67% sure she was having a heart attack or a panic attack, or maybe it was gas from the coney dog with extra onions that she had for breakfast, but something was causing her distress and she was pretty sure it had something to do with the clown she'd agreed to meet with against all logic and better judgement.
Maybe he was different, her Puddin had never talked to her that way, he'd never offered that kind of kindness before. Hell, his love language usually ended in bruises.
She needed to be smart about this. Whatever else, she had to be smart. So she grabbed a gun from the glove compartment...heh who the fuck keeps gloves in there anyway? and a mallet for good measure. The former tucked into the back of her jorts and the latter balanced on her shoulder as she strolled over to the big red nose of the clown that marked the Bobby Trap side door. ]
no subject
So here he is, dressed to Not Kill. The manic, corrosive laughter bubbles in his chest like something rotten as he sails through the air, landing in a lanky limbed crouch on a sturdy streetlight just doing its best in terrible circumstances.
From afar, he watches her-- his quite his Harley Quinn emerge restlessly from her car and suddenly gravity feels like a lame suggestion. Whoever his Harley is, certainly did a number on him.
Suddenly a snapping set of fanged dentures comes ripping through the air and sinks a hungry bight into that giant ornamental clown nose. Behind it follows the reel of Joker's grappling gun, and the sound of his own blisteringly gleeful giggles; he lands neatly top the big red nose (steals a moment to drop the take out bags there because he does not want to spill the food!) and then rolls down the other side, boneless, like a rag-doll but with a grounding grip on his gun.
And then he hangs there, smiling with a strange toxic potion of charm, glee, and softly simmering obsession. He doesn't blink, but holds an odd and almost theatrical pose with one knee bent; The Hanged Man, if she happens to know the archetype. ]
Wow, you're really here! I mean, of course you are but-- you didn't have to be. Don't gotta be a criminal mastermind to know things between us sometimes get... complicated. But you came, and you're here and despite everything, it's good, like so good to see you!
[ He holds out his (upside down) hand to shake, all eager and teeth-barring smiles. ]
I'm John. John Doe.
no subject
She skittered back when he landed...hung? Looking all trussed up like one of them tarot cards. What was that one? Oh right, sacrifice. Did that mean him or her? Or her reading into it? Christ, she knew what this was, this was obsessive intrusive thoughts, and they were running her into the ground.
Harley slipped the mallet off her shoulder, bounced off the platform heel of her boot and let it lean against the red nose. ]
Yeah, well I said I would be so here I am.
[ She took the inverted hand, awkwardly twisting to get a look at a face that was familiar and not at the same time. Pale skin, big eyes, wide insane smile. Yeah that's Mister J, but not the one she knew. ]
So you're Joker, but not my Joker. A Joker. And you know a Harley, too?
[ She was still trying to figure that one out. She hadn't run into any other versions of her or him before. What did that mean? There were other Batmen too apparently. ]
I never heard him called John before.
no subject
Reading into every little movement might be obsessive but it's also extremely wise; John can be fawning and awkward, might seem less dangerous-- but he is by no means the totality of this man's personality. But this Hanged Man in particular means to hint inversion, and a reserved point of few.
Or maybe his leg is just tired from vaulting so many rooftops, who knows?~
In any case, he doesn't seem the least bit bothered by the fact that Harley is very obviously armed. That's just good sense, in any version of Gotham. A few quick and fluid motions place the peculiar man on his feet, and then send a quick shot from his grappling gun to hook and fetch his back-pack and bring it zipping back to him. ]
Joker is my 'Hero Name'. More than that, but it's not really good Pre-Taco Talk, is it? Don't want our food to get soggy.
[ He grins, not unlike an eager little Cerberus (because he's way too dangerous to be a puppy) and wiggles the plastic take out bags before her. ]
Soooo... you show me inside, and I'll start talking? About my Harley, if you want. Or anything, really. You can always ask me anything, you know. Anything you want.
[ In the space of a few sentences his aura seems to morph and shift, seeming at moments not too unlike Harley herself, with interspersed whispers of something so terribly similar to the Joker she knew. ]
no subject
Sure that came with abuse, unprescribed shock therapy, threats, constant intimidation.... ok when she really thought about it, it sounded like shit. But there had been decent times. Of course, she had to acknowledge from a strictly logical point of view that she was not mentally healthy now either, so her recollection was probably skewed. Nuttier than a fruitcake.
But she was fun! ]
Wait...hold up..stop the presses.. Oh I've always wanted to say that.. but seriously. Hero name? You're a hero?
[ Forgive her if she just falls, cross-legged to the ground, tacos cradled lovingly and safe in her arms of course, and looks thoroughly confused.
That one is gonna take her a second to recoup. Hero...maybe..ok maybe that alternate universe things has an alternate meaning for hero. Yeah! She could wrap her brain around that. OK She took the bag in her teeth and straightened into a bend and a walk over on her hands, feet touching down light enough to be silent.
Harley crooked her finger over her shoulder and took the lead into the old, decrepit but homey remains of the fun house. The strong scent of rust, decay and must was thick but this close to the docks it was to be expected. There was a decent enough picnic table set up that she wisely left leaned against the wall to avoid the rats and bats and birds leaving presents. ]
Pull that down, will ya?
no subject
[ His eyes follow everywhere she moves, hardly blinking. It's a primal unflinching draw, like a moth to flame. When he follows her lead it's quite comfortably, as though he's used to walking nicely in her shadow like a heeling pet.
Upon instruction, he affirms with a quick and eager nod and a blistering grin. He pops over to the picnic table and begins unloading the goods, setting everything down somehow chaotically and carefully at the same time. He doesn't wait for Harley to do anything-- in fact, he sets up everything for her. ]
There we go-- sorry there's no dessert forks or wet naps. We're really roughing it! [ Sometimes John actually seems genuinely friendly, but his excessive, jarring laughter still ruins the effect. He climbs somewhat awkwardly onto his seat at the table, but cracks Harley's take out container open first, before touching his own.
Clearly, someone had him very well trained. ]
SO!~ [ he scoops up a soft shelled taco and starts puzzling proper bite trajectory] What else do ya wanna know?
no subject
[ Harley shrugged and took a seat when the table came down. Whoever this John Doe was, he was not her Joker. First off, he was nice, he actually did things. She had expected him to tell her to get the table herself, but he'd really done it. He'd brought food, and not just any food, food she really liked. Aside from Sal's egg sandwiches when she needed a pick me up, tacos were about the best thing in the world.
And then there was the thing where he opened things for her, he... he was acting like taking care of her...no..no that wasn't right at all.
For years before she was Harley Quinn she was Dr. Harleen Quinzel, a bright up and comer in criminal psychology. She'd been one of those people that got name-dropped for having a bright future. That didn't all just go away with a few thousand volts to the noggin and a swim in a chemical vat. Her brains were still rattling around in the old noodle somewhere, she just had to turn them on again.
She hated doing it because that meant seeing herself again and seeing how fucked up she was now. Ignorance of that really was very much bliss. But whatever was going on with John Doe here needed to be looked at so, she studied him with the part of her brain that sat huddled up in the corner hiding most of the time.
He wasn't just being helpful, he was attending. He was deferring. He was...subservient. And happily so. Joker had neer been like that. He had his moments sure, he liked a good time as much as the next guy but he was always in charge. This one, no he was the loyal dog who got beat into thinking those beatings were affection.
Oh jesus, he was the way she used to be. ]
Hey, you don't gotta do all that for me. I mean, thank you, I appreciate that ya did. But, so ya know, you don't have to.
This looks great! I hardly know where to start!
[ But that didn't last long as her bright red lips stick smeared with a mouthful of double meat and bean goodness and a long string of cheese chased it as she pulled it back from her mouth. She giggled and wound it in like a piece of spaghetti. ]
Tell me about your Harley.
[ She spoke slightly muffled with a half mouthful of food and immediately went in for another bite. ]
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[ He shoves the second half of a carne asada taco into his (almost frightfully wide) mouth and dries his hands on a handful of criminally tiny napkins before fishing into his sleek black dress-pants for his phone. The case is closer to fuschia than purple, struck through with a single green stripe.
He hums happily, tapping his foot and bouncing in place as he scrolls through his expansive gallery. A good stalker takes many, many photos! ]
Lemme see... oh, nope, that's... that's Batman... that's... Dr. Leland, and... Ah-Ha! Here we go! Check it out!
[ Very proudly, John presents his phone with one of his favorite ever images on screen. ]
It's all of us! The Whole gang! Pretty cool, right?
[ Her assessment of John is absolutely correct; though he did still become some mutant variant of The Joker, though that darkness still stalks too close to the surface, there is also another side of him. A side that his Harley Quinn and his Bruce Wayne both twisted to their own devices, and made real in doing so. ]
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Friends with a Doctor?
[ She made a note of that but leaned in to look at...whoa....she looked severe. There was definitely something not right with that woman, which made sense if it was her. The body language of the picture said a lot, John desperate to be cared for among friends, his Harley possessive and commanding, his friends lording over him with tolerance but not appreciation. Except the one man. He seemed to have a sincere emotional expression. ]
Who are the rest of your friends?
[ She patted down her pockets to find her phone, the Hello Kitty case was slightly mutilated and had teeth marks. They weren't human teeth marks but, well, sometimes Bruce liked to nibble.
She thumbed through her gallery, which was a blur of bright images until she found what she was looking for. She showed him the picture. ]
That's Bruce. Ain't he a cutie?
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Yup! Dr. Leland-- she's pretty great! Not as great as Dr. Quinzel obviously, but still. I needed at least one staff member looking out for my best interests after you quit... [ Case in point; his last statement is rather deliberately composed, suggesting with an unspoken cunning that in Arkham, of course it's wise to keep a staff member on your side or under your thumb. Record scratch, and he's back to that Way Too Eager grin, watching Harley observe his screen. ]
Other than You and Me, The Blue Guy is Freeze and the Luchador is Bane. The stupidly sexy guy is Bruce Wayne.
[ His gaze jumps to Harley's phone and his grin intensifies with a delighted burst of ringing chuckles. ]
Oh man-- still handsome as heck! What I wouldn't give to swap places with that licorice!
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Things didn't work out so well for me when the Joker here got close to me. Or I got close to him. It went bad. [ No reason to get into that, she kept those cards to herself for now. ]
[ But she checked out the other guys, trying to see if they rang a bell with her. But she was coming up short. Freeze? Bane...well that one maybe sounded a little familiar. Something about chemicals, maybe in another country? But if he was there maybe he was here too, it made sense. Maybe the world of whack jobs and freaks was bigger than she or Mister J ever thought. ]
Oh, Bruce is cute in any universe, huh? Yeah, that's why my lil baby is named for him. Gotta call him something as handsome as he is.
[ She chuckled a little nervously to his joke abut the licorice. Should she be worried about her Brucie? ]