Addiction was a hard thing to turn your back on, especially when you hardly knew you were addicted to something in the first place. The real question was what she felt more addicted to, whether it was the idea of wanting to love him, or wanting to hate him. Torn between anger and grief, was a nasty bit of chemistry for the former golden haired hench-wench of the clown prince of crime. Note the word former, given Harley Quinn, was far from the same woman most people remembered her to be. Well then again, that was probably at least half true..
Though Harley had changed, those changes hadn't been quite so obvious on the surface. She were still the wild crazy ball of fun loving menace that she had always been, without the second rate title. Oh no.. She was through with Joker! Especially after the last thing he tried to do! While Harley's feelings had come a long way, so too had her value among various criminal figures in Gotham. Right now she may very well have half of Gotham's scum trying to find her, take her for themselves, if it wasn't for the little teensie-weensie fact that the majority of Gotham's ruffians, had believed her to be long dead. Joker did something, a certain something quite a handful of other nefarious figures in Gotham weren't so happy with. In the process he had managed to finally discard the “extra weight” he was carrying. He called her that.. He left her to die! Tried to kill her!
Harley's anger for Joker was like wild fire, never serving to manage nor contain the fierce scorch of it's inferno. Even when she found herself hospitalized in a secret little location outside of Gotham, Harley never wavered her negative emotions about the man who had outright betrayed her. How many times had he thrown her face the mud? Hit her because to him it was fun? Push her undying love for him away.. all because he didn't know nothing about being gentle?! Harley couldn't even begin to recount the many times she had fell victim to what should have been her better, her protector, her mentor. Instead, she was his gimmick, his tool, a toy for him to play with and break further each and every time she tried to reason with him. Joker wasn't the same person she remembered him to be! But then again, that was probably because Harley had very bad memory, when it came to remembering why and how she had even fallen in love with the Joker in the first place.
Hating him from far away seemed like the easiest thing in the world, but just about every single time she found herself within a near inch of that clowny faced demon of a man, she couldn't help but feel so different. Whatever.. She was done with Joker! So much in fact that Harley had been devising a plan for the last little while in a way she might be able to finally show that. That wasn't the easy part, especially considering formulating plans and sticking to them, was never the crimson jesters forte. Going with the flow of things was always much more her style, even if the extent of her luck usually only ever lasted for so long. Oh well, everyone makes mistakes right? .... What you're doing is actual suicide Harley Quinn!
Ugh there she was again.. the damn docta lady.. always pestering her- Im here to help you! Quin tuned out of the lingering absence of her attention, at the sound of Harleen Quinzel's old voice oppose just about every ill rational or crazy thing she did. Even without Joker, that wasn't who Harley was anymore and going back to something that simple and innocent, just seemed like a damn shame. No, Harley Quinn had far too much work to do, before she could ever consider settling down and moving on. Especially because that felt near impossible when a certain Joker was still breathing alive and healthy somewhere.
Coming back to Gotham was, well, it felt right. From the very minute Harley had woken up in a hospital bed in timbuktu she knew there was something very wrong going on. Waking through all of that was fulfilling to say the least, given her being alive by this point had been somewhat of a miracle, never mind the amount of people that would want to change that if they found out. Being short of friends wasn't exactly the most pleasant thing in the world, but she'd manage, so long as she got what she wanted done. Harley had to be careful reentering Gotham, considering there were more then just the regular old crooks and goons at work, that may serve to undermine and destroy her. Gotham had always had other problems.
Thinking about Gotham's rogues send a certain shiver down Harley's spine. Last thing she heard, Bat-brain was going to punch his last clown, while Joker had anything but his last laugh. It felt near revolting to think she had felt amused in believing that fact, especially when she didn't know that cutting the old Bat out of Gotham's picture, involved throwing her under the rug as well. Joker got what he wanted no doubt, but Harley got nothing. Concluding to the idea of knowing this made her wonder. So who was out ruining the other criminal losa's of Gotham's fun? Bird-brain? Harley near crackled in a crude laughter at the idea of envisioning The Batman's sidekick trying to step in for him. The Dark Knight had always proven to be problematic, as much as he were mean, but his little side kicks were hardly on the same level of threat, then the who was bold enough to try and bring them along.
For a moment, Harley felt accomplished by the sick idea of knowing Joker had removed one of those side kicks some time ago, back when she were still wearing the one piece black and red jester grab, that she had made history with on Gotham. It only felt like just yesterday when she was..-! Ugh! No! Joker's had his last laugh!
Harley's spite for Joker came back into full swing, before she found her feet quietly peddling against the cement beneath her. Since she had returned to Gotham, Harley had kept a very low profile, so low, that few other players, besides a certain nameless know it all, didn't know she were even alive and well and hot on the hunt of a certain other clown. Riddler helped her out, only because she had been doing light favors for him, courtesy of him helping keep her off the radar. Maybe she had more friends then she knew-?! Seriously?! Riddle-creep?! Harley felt anything but represented by the idea of having to weasel her way around from place to place, doing favor's for another one of Gotham's problems. Like hell she'd ever get out of the inevitable edgy circle that was Gotham City and all the cynical shenanigans that took place within. Not like that was a problem...!
A light jitter of laughter sung from the perfection of her crimson painted lips, before Harley slipped elegantly into the narrow alleyway's made by the towering buildings of Old Gotham. Harley Quinn had much work to do and parties to crash, especially since Joker had been rude enough to forget to invite her.
Working off a tip wasn't exactly all that reassuring, but if she got to kill Joker's clowns and get more information about where and what he might be up to, then that would prove to be a satisfactory start to a much more fulfilling conquest of insane vengeance. Joker shoulda known better then to write me off so easily..! She'd refresh herself with the lucid idea of thinking herself to be far better at what she intended to do next, then she really were. You and what army Harley Quinn? You're going to go in there and those guys are going to tear you apart! Further protesting from the tiny little sane corner of Harley's old mind, served to try and vex her from the thought of getting cheap and easy bloody revenge by cutting down Joker's numbers one at a time. “I got you.. Don't I?" Harley would state, to, well, herself, because no one else was around to hear it. Or were they?
“Shhh! Go away, I don't need your input right now.” Harley beckoned out to herself in a much more quietened and careful tone of voice. She were trying to be sneaky, because if she weren't, that little sane proportion of her conscience would be more then right when it came to the inevitability of her fate. How hard could this be? Batfreak and his little friends did it all the time! Another adorable giggle of virtuous appeal crept from her lips, before she'd slap both hands to them and try and silence the gentle snickering of her laughter.
“Hey! You hear that? Sounded like someone laughing.” A much more rowdy rough voice declared from the other side of the very poor glass, that separated her from a handful of Joker's men. “No. I didn't hear anything, your crazy.. Paranoid the Bat's gonna show up? Didn't you hear, we don't got to worry about the bat no more.” Another much more creaky voice of one of Joker's other men, responded to the notice of the sound. “Since when does the Bat laugh? Sounded more like a girls laughter anyway..” The conversation went on, entering much more comedic and nonsensical theories. “Even if it were, you think the big bad Bat would laugh like a little girl? Are you serious?”
Was it bad to say that Harley felt twisted between a certain blend of amusement and disbelief, all at the same time, given the responses of these buffoons? These kind of conversations weren't really ever anything new to her, given she used to work with and even command a handful of her own faction of Joker's brutal influence on Gotham. Remembering all of that wasn't so pleasant.. Not like she'd have to remember these type of goons for much longer. It was time to go to work in cleaning up Gotham city, purely in Harley Quinn style.
Standing outside the small hide-out in front of her in empty silence, slowly motivated Harley to spice up the situation. She didn't exactly have a plan, but she did have several crazy ideas that weren't anything sort of making her feel motivated, as much as they did confident about what she were about to do. Reaching for a small red and black painted grenade with a “Harley Happy Face” painted on to it, she'd quietly pull the pin from the top and use her other hand to reach for the bat she carried on her back. GCPD had her signature mallet in some confidential lock-up, which meant new Harley had made some decent arrangement's in replacing the good old classical whammy-wham toy she used to use for wrecking things up.
Without a second thought Harley would pull the pin and pitch the grenade up in front of her and take a wild swing at the smiling compact sphere of explosive wonder. She hit that sucker did dead on, sending the grenade flying through the glass and into the room with a loud crashing of glass. The goons hesitated, some even shouted in frantic reaction, before the room was engulfed in a small radius of flying shrapnel and fire. Next the door came crashing down, the collision of Harley's boot, near causing the door to come swinging off the hinges. In she'd go, trusty bat in one hand, big nasty looking automatic rifle in the other. Leave it up to Harley Quinn to make an entrance Joker had taught her well.
“Miss me LOSA'S!? Then again, who wouldn't!?” She'd cheer, making her presence very known and very responsible for everything that had happened so far. Only at the time of walking through the front door, did Harley realize there was originally seven guys inside the main room. The grenade made easy work of two, but that still left five ready and eager to make this difficult for her. “Har-Harley?! I thought you were-?!” One of the goons spoke up, only to be interrupted. “DEAD?!” She'd question, pulling the trigger of the gun and easily cutting down another number that stood in her way. That left four. “Well I ain't dead, do I's look dead?!” Harley continued on in further adding resolve to the concept of people believing she was dead, up until one of the bigger guys in the room came charging at her.
She wasn't prepared for it, nor did she expect it and the hulk of man easily stampeded forward and knocked her from the door way of the room. She fell a short distance, until she tumbled on the ground, rolling over three or four times, before finally coming to a crumbled and dusty face down heap on the floor (losing her gun in process). That's when the muttering of her anger sung out, her agitation clean as day. Harley forced herself up slowly, to a light sit on her side, sprawling out a bit on the floor. Her eyes rolled in irritable response, to the idea of being turned into a pinball by yet again, someone associated with Joker. “That wasn't very nice.. Clearly some of us haven't changed..” She'd remark, feeling a bit mundane with the idea of knowing she'd probably never escape the inevitability of being thrown around by some crook, be it an important one,or not.
“I thought Joker killed you!?” One of the thugs questioned aloud. Harley could feel her patience steaming, her desire to continue this discussion any longer quickly phasing out. “WHY DO I ALWAYS GOT TO REPEAT MYSELF WITH YOU BOZA'S!?” She'd yell, before quickly spinning and flipping up in an acrobatic twirl. The group of men in front of her shunned any further curiosities they may have for her, each of them going to grab whatever melee weapons around them that they could find. “You don't order us around any more!” One yelled. “Im going to send you back to Joker in one sweet little piece, or broken and mangled as you should be!” Another one threatened. The odds were not looking up for Harley.
One came rushing forward, this time Harley was prepared for it. She'd pull the bat from her back, before taking a tight grip around the neck and swinging real hard at that idiots skull.
He went crashing down into the floor, no short of brain matter and other things left from the collision of the bat hitting his skull. Harley panted in tested endurance, her breath quickening, as she tried to juggle feeling excited and outnumbered all at once. Clearly she wasn't thinking all that straight, just angry thoughts instead. “You boys dun think I can't take the three of you's left alone? Oh please.. it'll be a pleasure.. No short of blowin ur brains out ONE AT A TIME! Then again, now that I really think about it.. Joka neva gave me half the credit I deserved.. SO COME ON! Lemme introduce you to the new and improved HARLEY QUINN!”
But could she really take these three alone? Not even a minute in and Harley couldn't help but wonder if the annoying Docter clamouring around in back of her head, may have actually made a good point..
Though Harley had changed, those changes hadn't been quite so obvious on the surface. She were still the wild crazy ball of fun loving menace that she had always been, without the second rate title. Oh no.. She was through with Joker! Especially after the last thing he tried to do! While Harley's feelings had come a long way, so too had her value among various criminal figures in Gotham. Right now she may very well have half of Gotham's scum trying to find her, take her for themselves, if it wasn't for the little teensie-weensie fact that the majority of Gotham's ruffians, had believed her to be long dead. Joker did something, a certain something quite a handful of other nefarious figures in Gotham weren't so happy with. In the process he had managed to finally discard the “extra weight” he was carrying. He called her that.. He left her to die! Tried to kill her!
Harley's anger for Joker was like wild fire, never serving to manage nor contain the fierce scorch of it's inferno. Even when she found herself hospitalized in a secret little location outside of Gotham, Harley never wavered her negative emotions about the man who had outright betrayed her. How many times had he thrown her face the mud? Hit her because to him it was fun? Push her undying love for him away.. all because he didn't know nothing about being gentle?! Harley couldn't even begin to recount the many times she had fell victim to what should have been her better, her protector, her mentor. Instead, she was his gimmick, his tool, a toy for him to play with and break further each and every time she tried to reason with him. Joker wasn't the same person she remembered him to be! But then again, that was probably because Harley had very bad memory, when it came to remembering why and how she had even fallen in love with the Joker in the first place.
Hating him from far away seemed like the easiest thing in the world, but just about every single time she found herself within a near inch of that clowny faced demon of a man, she couldn't help but feel so different. Whatever.. She was done with Joker! So much in fact that Harley had been devising a plan for the last little while in a way she might be able to finally show that. That wasn't the easy part, especially considering formulating plans and sticking to them, was never the crimson jesters forte. Going with the flow of things was always much more her style, even if the extent of her luck usually only ever lasted for so long. Oh well, everyone makes mistakes right? .... What you're doing is actual suicide Harley Quinn!
Ugh there she was again.. the damn docta lady.. always pestering her- Im here to help you! Quin tuned out of the lingering absence of her attention, at the sound of Harleen Quinzel's old voice oppose just about every ill rational or crazy thing she did. Even without Joker, that wasn't who Harley was anymore and going back to something that simple and innocent, just seemed like a damn shame. No, Harley Quinn had far too much work to do, before she could ever consider settling down and moving on. Especially because that felt near impossible when a certain Joker was still breathing alive and healthy somewhere.
Coming back to Gotham was, well, it felt right. From the very minute Harley had woken up in a hospital bed in timbuktu she knew there was something very wrong going on. Waking through all of that was fulfilling to say the least, given her being alive by this point had been somewhat of a miracle, never mind the amount of people that would want to change that if they found out. Being short of friends wasn't exactly the most pleasant thing in the world, but she'd manage, so long as she got what she wanted done. Harley had to be careful reentering Gotham, considering there were more then just the regular old crooks and goons at work, that may serve to undermine and destroy her. Gotham had always had other problems.
Thinking about Gotham's rogues send a certain shiver down Harley's spine. Last thing she heard, Bat-brain was going to punch his last clown, while Joker had anything but his last laugh. It felt near revolting to think she had felt amused in believing that fact, especially when she didn't know that cutting the old Bat out of Gotham's picture, involved throwing her under the rug as well. Joker got what he wanted no doubt, but Harley got nothing. Concluding to the idea of knowing this made her wonder. So who was out ruining the other criminal losa's of Gotham's fun? Bird-brain? Harley near crackled in a crude laughter at the idea of envisioning The Batman's sidekick trying to step in for him. The Dark Knight had always proven to be problematic, as much as he were mean, but his little side kicks were hardly on the same level of threat, then the who was bold enough to try and bring them along.
For a moment, Harley felt accomplished by the sick idea of knowing Joker had removed one of those side kicks some time ago, back when she were still wearing the one piece black and red jester grab, that she had made history with on Gotham. It only felt like just yesterday when she was..-! Ugh! No! Joker's had his last laugh!
Harley's spite for Joker came back into full swing, before she found her feet quietly peddling against the cement beneath her. Since she had returned to Gotham, Harley had kept a very low profile, so low, that few other players, besides a certain nameless know it all, didn't know she were even alive and well and hot on the hunt of a certain other clown. Riddler helped her out, only because she had been doing light favors for him, courtesy of him helping keep her off the radar. Maybe she had more friends then she knew-?! Seriously?! Riddle-creep?! Harley felt anything but represented by the idea of having to weasel her way around from place to place, doing favor's for another one of Gotham's problems. Like hell she'd ever get out of the inevitable edgy circle that was Gotham City and all the cynical shenanigans that took place within. Not like that was a problem...!
A light jitter of laughter sung from the perfection of her crimson painted lips, before Harley slipped elegantly into the narrow alleyway's made by the towering buildings of Old Gotham. Harley Quinn had much work to do and parties to crash, especially since Joker had been rude enough to forget to invite her.
Working off a tip wasn't exactly all that reassuring, but if she got to kill Joker's clowns and get more information about where and what he might be up to, then that would prove to be a satisfactory start to a much more fulfilling conquest of insane vengeance. Joker shoulda known better then to write me off so easily..! She'd refresh herself with the lucid idea of thinking herself to be far better at what she intended to do next, then she really were. You and what army Harley Quinn? You're going to go in there and those guys are going to tear you apart! Further protesting from the tiny little sane corner of Harley's old mind, served to try and vex her from the thought of getting cheap and easy bloody revenge by cutting down Joker's numbers one at a time. “I got you.. Don't I?" Harley would state, to, well, herself, because no one else was around to hear it. Or were they?
“Shhh! Go away, I don't need your input right now.” Harley beckoned out to herself in a much more quietened and careful tone of voice. She were trying to be sneaky, because if she weren't, that little sane proportion of her conscience would be more then right when it came to the inevitability of her fate. How hard could this be? Batfreak and his little friends did it all the time! Another adorable giggle of virtuous appeal crept from her lips, before she'd slap both hands to them and try and silence the gentle snickering of her laughter.
“Hey! You hear that? Sounded like someone laughing.” A much more rowdy rough voice declared from the other side of the very poor glass, that separated her from a handful of Joker's men. “No. I didn't hear anything, your crazy.. Paranoid the Bat's gonna show up? Didn't you hear, we don't got to worry about the bat no more.” Another much more creaky voice of one of Joker's other men, responded to the notice of the sound. “Since when does the Bat laugh? Sounded more like a girls laughter anyway..” The conversation went on, entering much more comedic and nonsensical theories. “Even if it were, you think the big bad Bat would laugh like a little girl? Are you serious?”
Was it bad to say that Harley felt twisted between a certain blend of amusement and disbelief, all at the same time, given the responses of these buffoons? These kind of conversations weren't really ever anything new to her, given she used to work with and even command a handful of her own faction of Joker's brutal influence on Gotham. Remembering all of that wasn't so pleasant.. Not like she'd have to remember these type of goons for much longer. It was time to go to work in cleaning up Gotham city, purely in Harley Quinn style.
Standing outside the small hide-out in front of her in empty silence, slowly motivated Harley to spice up the situation. She didn't exactly have a plan, but she did have several crazy ideas that weren't anything sort of making her feel motivated, as much as they did confident about what she were about to do. Reaching for a small red and black painted grenade with a “Harley Happy Face” painted on to it, she'd quietly pull the pin from the top and use her other hand to reach for the bat she carried on her back. GCPD had her signature mallet in some confidential lock-up, which meant new Harley had made some decent arrangement's in replacing the good old classical whammy-wham toy she used to use for wrecking things up.
Without a second thought Harley would pull the pin and pitch the grenade up in front of her and take a wild swing at the smiling compact sphere of explosive wonder. She hit that sucker did dead on, sending the grenade flying through the glass and into the room with a loud crashing of glass. The goons hesitated, some even shouted in frantic reaction, before the room was engulfed in a small radius of flying shrapnel and fire. Next the door came crashing down, the collision of Harley's boot, near causing the door to come swinging off the hinges. In she'd go, trusty bat in one hand, big nasty looking automatic rifle in the other. Leave it up to Harley Quinn to make an entrance Joker had taught her well.
“Miss me LOSA'S!? Then again, who wouldn't!?” She'd cheer, making her presence very known and very responsible for everything that had happened so far. Only at the time of walking through the front door, did Harley realize there was originally seven guys inside the main room. The grenade made easy work of two, but that still left five ready and eager to make this difficult for her. “Har-Harley?! I thought you were-?!” One of the goons spoke up, only to be interrupted. “DEAD?!” She'd question, pulling the trigger of the gun and easily cutting down another number that stood in her way. That left four. “Well I ain't dead, do I's look dead?!” Harley continued on in further adding resolve to the concept of people believing she was dead, up until one of the bigger guys in the room came charging at her.
She wasn't prepared for it, nor did she expect it and the hulk of man easily stampeded forward and knocked her from the door way of the room. She fell a short distance, until she tumbled on the ground, rolling over three or four times, before finally coming to a crumbled and dusty face down heap on the floor (losing her gun in process). That's when the muttering of her anger sung out, her agitation clean as day. Harley forced herself up slowly, to a light sit on her side, sprawling out a bit on the floor. Her eyes rolled in irritable response, to the idea of being turned into a pinball by yet again, someone associated with Joker. “That wasn't very nice.. Clearly some of us haven't changed..” She'd remark, feeling a bit mundane with the idea of knowing she'd probably never escape the inevitability of being thrown around by some crook, be it an important one,or not.
“I thought Joker killed you!?” One of the thugs questioned aloud. Harley could feel her patience steaming, her desire to continue this discussion any longer quickly phasing out. “WHY DO I ALWAYS GOT TO REPEAT MYSELF WITH YOU BOZA'S!?” She'd yell, before quickly spinning and flipping up in an acrobatic twirl. The group of men in front of her shunned any further curiosities they may have for her, each of them going to grab whatever melee weapons around them that they could find. “You don't order us around any more!” One yelled. “Im going to send you back to Joker in one sweet little piece, or broken and mangled as you should be!” Another one threatened. The odds were not looking up for Harley.
One came rushing forward, this time Harley was prepared for it. She'd pull the bat from her back, before taking a tight grip around the neck and swinging real hard at that idiots skull.
CRACK!
He went crashing down into the floor, no short of brain matter and other things left from the collision of the bat hitting his skull. Harley panted in tested endurance, her breath quickening, as she tried to juggle feeling excited and outnumbered all at once. Clearly she wasn't thinking all that straight, just angry thoughts instead. “You boys dun think I can't take the three of you's left alone? Oh please.. it'll be a pleasure.. No short of blowin ur brains out ONE AT A TIME! Then again, now that I really think about it.. Joka neva gave me half the credit I deserved.. SO COME ON! Lemme introduce you to the new and improved HARLEY QUINN!”
But could she really take these three alone? Not even a minute in and Harley couldn't help but wonder if the annoying Docter clamouring around in back of her head, may have actually made a good point..
