Harley Quinn (
revvinguptheharley) wrote in
thecapitol2014-12-02 02:04 pm
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Entry tags:
It could be her head wasn't screwed on just right.
Who: Harley Quinn and You
When: Before the Space Arena
What: Harley needs a little Christmas, right this very minute
Where: moping about the tribute towers
Warnings: It's Harley so be on your guard.
Of all the little Jewish girls growing up on Gotham, Harley had often prided herself on loving Christmas more then anyone else. She was always in Holiday plays though her school years and once her criminal career had gotten started she made sure that even her crimes had a level of festivity to them.
But as the Capitol began gearing up for another flashy, flamboyant and overblown celebration of the season...she just couldn't find it in her heart to get excited. She remembered fondly the year when she and Ivy had kidnapped Bruce Wayne for Christmas. Ivy had used her pheromones to make him their slave for the night and they'd used him to go on a shopping spree. It was great until they almost accidentally killed him by knocking him in an elevator shaft. ...of course they had been planning on killing him anyway but that was when Batman arrived and ruined their fun. There was no Batman here though. And all his little birds who had shown up had been promptly killed never to be seen again.
Harley felt a longing for her home when normally she was able to squash it down with laughter. Those close to Harley might notice the girl becoming more subdued as they drew closer to December. By December first she was hardly wearing her scandalous, trashy or flamboyant clothes and was lounging around in more subdued and plain boring outfits. Even in the training hall when she showed up for her daily routine she'd exchanged her shamelessly short shorts and tanktop for a much more modest track suit. And she was drinking more, which usually had her laughing too loud, or shouting, or sobbing. If regular Harley had no problem sharing her emotions, drunken Harley was extra noisy about it.
Spending her day alternating between laying around the District Nine common area, half heartedly training, drinking at the bar or laying stretched out on a sofa in the Tribute Tower Common area, Harley was clearly doing her best impression of an angst riddled teenager in a grown woman's body. And perhaps most worrying of all was she hadn't spontaneously broken anything in a whole two weeks.
When: Before the Space Arena
What: Harley needs a little Christmas, right this very minute
Where: moping about the tribute towers
Warnings: It's Harley so be on your guard.
Of all the little Jewish girls growing up on Gotham, Harley had often prided herself on loving Christmas more then anyone else. She was always in Holiday plays though her school years and once her criminal career had gotten started she made sure that even her crimes had a level of festivity to them.
But as the Capitol began gearing up for another flashy, flamboyant and overblown celebration of the season...she just couldn't find it in her heart to get excited. She remembered fondly the year when she and Ivy had kidnapped Bruce Wayne for Christmas. Ivy had used her pheromones to make him their slave for the night and they'd used him to go on a shopping spree. It was great until they almost accidentally killed him by knocking him in an elevator shaft. ...of course they had been planning on killing him anyway but that was when Batman arrived and ruined their fun. There was no Batman here though. And all his little birds who had shown up had been promptly killed never to be seen again.
Harley felt a longing for her home when normally she was able to squash it down with laughter. Those close to Harley might notice the girl becoming more subdued as they drew closer to December. By December first she was hardly wearing her scandalous, trashy or flamboyant clothes and was lounging around in more subdued and plain boring outfits. Even in the training hall when she showed up for her daily routine she'd exchanged her shamelessly short shorts and tanktop for a much more modest track suit. And she was drinking more, which usually had her laughing too loud, or shouting, or sobbing. If regular Harley had no problem sharing her emotions, drunken Harley was extra noisy about it.
Spending her day alternating between laying around the District Nine common area, half heartedly training, drinking at the bar or laying stretched out on a sofa in the Tribute Tower Common area, Harley was clearly doing her best impression of an angst riddled teenager in a grown woman's body. And perhaps most worrying of all was she hadn't spontaneously broken anything in a whole two weeks.
[common area]
"O-oh. I. Uh." Yeah, he totally wasn't flipping through the latest Capitol gossip mag. NOPE.
Re: [common area]
"Lemme guess grandpa, you only read it for the articles."
A bit rude of her considering she has no idea how old Dennett is, but she's feeling down so picking on others might help.
[Common Area]
Greasy mystery food out of paper bags is totally a valid way to cheer someone up, right?
Re: [Common Area]
"What is it?"
A bad sign for anyone who knows Harley. She never met a greasy fast food she didn't like but being hesitant was further proof of just how far from normal she was feeling.
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Taking one of the orbs she tossed it into the air and caught it in her mouth crunching through the shell and feeling a rubbery, strangely creamy center. It was...peculiar to say the least.
"Seafood?" She wondered out loud still chewing.
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"Aw, yeah," he says around his mouthful, "definitely some kind of seafood."
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A little flirting couldn't hurt could it?
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Maybe this is all she needed. Some comfort food and a new face.
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Good place to end for now?
I think so!
bar
He was almost glad to see no grey skin or orange horns like his own in the bar. He didn't feel much like dealing with trolls right now. But he did see someone looking less than well. A human woman with yellow hair at the bar, imbibing.... what, exactly? He wasn't sure; it was curious. Trolls had their vices, oh boy did they, but alcohol wasn't one of them. The tall grey-skinned man decorated with scars, horns, fangs, and funny eyes wandered just within speaking range, not quite comfortable enough to amble right into someone's personal bubble. No telling who would or wouldn't kill him.
He gestured to her drink. "What'th that?"
Re: bar
"I asked the bartender to make me a drink that fit me. This is his third attempt." She hiccuped with a sigh. She'd hoped that maybe someone who was a fan of hers could remind her what it meant to be the wild and spontanious girl she seemed to be losing track of.
"Give it a shot. It's sweet." She urged passing it to him.
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"I make it a habit not to take drinkth from thtrangerth."
He closed long, calloused fingers around the glass anyway, lifting it just to sniff. His face switched to sudden revulsion. He immediately clunked it back on the bar again, and he quickly slid it back to her.
"Oh my God I'm glad I didn't drink that, what the hell are you trying to poithon me with, dithinfectant or battery fluid??"
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Taking candy from strangers had led her on more then a few adventures.
Raising an eyebrow at his complaint she took the drink and downed it in one smooth motion, tilting her head back so the motions of her pale neck swallowing could be seen before she set the glass down again.
"What's the matter sport, don't drink much? It's supposed to taste like that. " She teased as the fire in her belly was fueled by the sugary alcohol.
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"Are humanth crazy? Gladiatorial gameth, thure, but imbibing acrid liquidth for fun? I'd rather get trashed on thopor thlime."
He wavered on the Bad Decisions Fence for a bit. There had to be a reason people flocked to this bar, and it sure as hell wasn't the food.
"....Ok how about thith: Buy me a drink and I'll try it. If I end up liking it, I'll buy you one in return."
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"Crazy? Oh I don't know about that. I'm as sane as you are." She purred. Then she barked out with laughter and waved over the bartender.
"Alright sport, what's something you like the taste of? Some fruit or snack? Or do you wanna try for the harder stuff? These Capitolites may be bubble heads but they make the best food and drink around."
The bartender grunted and scowled at being called a bubblehead but said nothing.
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"If you're ath thane ath me, you might need a moirail. Badly. Or thedativeth."
He frowned, not sure what she meant by "harder stuff."
"I like honey? Not mind honey, obviouthly, that would fuck me up. Jutht regular honey. It'th the shit. And um.... red appleth? blueberrieth? Ok, no, thothe are jutht becauthe I like the colorth.... I like grubthauthe, but I can't thee mythelf drinking that. Honethtly I'm not uthed to having thith much fresh food in general, all ready to go."
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She didn't actually know what a Moirail was but she was a big fan of "thedativeth."
"Well Daffy, you sound like the perfect candidate for a nice hard cider. " She declared and soon enough the drink was poured and a dash of honey mixed in for good measure.
"If this doesn't put hair on your chest it'll curl your toes that's for sure."
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/End. Excellent thread <3 you are lovely!
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Mindy had tailed her to the bar, and though she was usually here on her own, Mindy had been absent from the place lately, so she was greeted warmly before sitting next to Harley, offering a sympathetic look.
"You look like shit," Mindy said without a thought. "What's up with you?"
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"I'm just not feeling it anymore kid." She sighed rising up to sip the drink through a curly straw. "This straw is about the most spontaneous and eccentric as I've been in weeks. I'm losing touch with who I was. How can I be Harley Quinn when this place is so uptight that the slightest bit of aggression gets me zapped?"
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"The best of WHO exactly? You and me? Because I'm no where near the best mentor! I wouldn't even say I'm the most popular mentor."
Not for lack of trying, but even Harley was aware her personality made her difficult to handle for long periods of time.
"I'm pretty sure that without me around we'd still be in exactly the same place as we are right now. Me bein' nutty as a bag of squirrels hasn't helped us out a bit. And my boring sane bits aren't exactly moving mountains either. It's all starting to feel kinda...pointless."
And with that cheerful bit of self flagellation Harley threw back her drink in a slow measured slurp draining the glass.
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If people had a problem with Harley being the crazy chick she was, they'd answer to her.
"Since when have you even cared what the hell we would be like in the first place? If you weren't a mentor, I'd be by myself. Can you really imagine me fucking up everyone in our district with a strict training regimen and calling all of them pussies for not waking up at 5 AM? Come on. Everyone could use a little insanity in our lives."
She rolled her eyes at the drink. "And since when are you all Debby Downer all of a sudden? You're stealing my thunder."
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On the other hand it wasn't really helping. She shook her head and set the glass down on the bar.
"They'd ignore you the same way they ignore us now. Sure some of them are grateful for our help but at the end of the day it's only because we're all they've got. Fat lot of good that's done them." She began folding a napkin idly into a paper airplane.
"I should be doing more then just keeping people on their toes I should be making them happy. I should be driving people crazy! The closest I've come to that lately is keeping you from throwing yourself in front of traffic and getting Nilly Billy some plants for her room."
She knew what she wanted to do. She wanted bombs. She wanted guns. She wanted to run rampant through the streets of the capitol sewing chaos wherever her eyes looked. She wanted to be the Joker for this wound up little distopia even if only for a day.
Throwing her paper airplane so it made a loop and then took a nose dive she sighed. "I miss Red."
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She snickered. "So when the hell did a little bit of melancholy stop you? You were the one that ran with Joker. If anyone can make crap like this into a better situation, its you. By the way, thanks for the advice. It's come in handy."
She sniffed. "Yeah? I bet you do. I miss Riley...and Ellie."
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