Harper Gray ♦ ♢ ♦ Harley Quinn (revyaharley) wrote in thereincarnates, @ 2015-08-18 02:15:00 |
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Entry tags: | aaron lawrence, harper gray |
Who: Harper Gray & Aaron Lawrence
What: She finally gets the joke
Where: Kirby Forensic Psychiatric Center (NYC)
When: Tuesday night, August 18th, 2015
Warnings: Violence, probably.
Harper had been fighting it for a long time. She'd had her reasons at first for denying her 'true self', or at least she'd told herself she did. They'd seemed like good excuses at the time, denial was a funny thing that way. The sort of upstanding, moral guidelines that kept any normal person from going over the edge and making a living breaking the law like Harley did. But Harper? She didn't really qualify as 'normal' anymore, and she hadn't for a long time. Ever since she first started hearing a voice in her head, really, but that hadn't been the tipping point. That moment had come when Aaron Lawrence first walked into her office.
She knew the dangers of getting involved with the Joker better than anyone, because she had Harley as a permanent passenger. She knew that she was asking for nothing but pain, that anything he could give her would be nothing but toxic and completely twisted, and yet she'd still ended up completely enamored with him to the point that she'd essentially thrown her entire career down the drain just to help him. What was more, she didn't regret it. Harleen Quinzel had met the Joker and became Harley Quinn, almost over night. Harper's transition had been a bit more of a slow burn, and at the end of it... well, she was still Harper. Just maybe a more evolved version of herself. Insert cheesy caterpillar to a butterfly metaphor, if you're into that sort of thing.
When it came down to it, she was just tired of playing by the rules. Their rules. It had never gotten her anywhere she wanted to go, and now she was getting suspended. She'd overheard the conversation between two of her superiors a few weeks ago, and they'd never said her name, but she knew. Deep down, she had already known. Well, that was it, then. After all her hard work, after everything she'd done for this place, they were going to do this to her? Harper couldn't let that stand, and somewhere along the way, she'd finally snapped. That last shred of moral sanity had given way, after being slowly worn down for months. She didn't care anymore. If that's what she got for playing by the rules? Then screw it. No more Mrs. Nice Harper.
Harper had still been a little hesitant when it came to actually carrying out a plan, but when she finally got her letter of suspension that day, any hesitation left went right out the window. She balled the letter into a fist, throwing it across the room with an inhuman shriek. She'd called Aaron, and then she'd paced for five minutes before storming into her boss's office. What happened next, Harper wasn't completely sure, it was all kind of lost in a blur of fury and hysterics. She was screaming at him, brandishing a stapler in one hand, and next thing she knew, Harper was being restrained by orderlies and thrown in one of the vacant solitary rooms, the ones where they put the most problematic patients.
If Harper weren't so out of her mind with rage, she might have seen the funny side of that. ... Actually, she kind of did. It probably didn't help her case, but at some point while she was in there, Harper started laughing to herself. And she didn't really stop. She sat on the floor against the wall and laughed until her sides hurt, until her laughter dissolved into a quiet snickering that was only evident from the way her shoulders shook, face mostly hidden behind a messy curtain of blonde hair and eyes unfocused from the meds they'd given her to calm down. Drugs. They were drugging her now. Harper probably should have been more concerned about her current predicament, but she wasn't. She knew someone was coming for her. Then they'd finish what they started.