Couple of screws loose (quite_vexing) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2016-04-04 22:27:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, callisto, harley quinn |
The only customization is the beaver holster below the light.
Who: Harley and Callisto
What: Harley gets a tattoo and randomly meets a warrior lady and they plot to make chaos
When: Today!
Where: A bar
Status: complete
Rating: PG-13
Callisto had needed some air. Sometimes it was difficult for her to completely separate her dreams from reality. Sometimes she started to believe the Xena that she shared a condo with was the warlord who had killed her family and decimated her village. Today was one of the days where she found herself blurring the line between the two and starting to blame the Xena here for things that she had not done. She still had enough sanity about her to realize this and she’d decided to go for a drive.
She’d driven around for a good few hours trying to calm down. Riding her bike tended to help, but even as she came back around to where she and Xena lived, she knew she wasn’t fully calmed down. So instead she drove off to another part of town, looking for a bar. She pulled over and eyed a tattoo parlor that was near a bar that had caught her eye. She wasn’t exactly thinking about new ink, but it couldn’t hurt to make new friends in there in the event she wanted more, right?
Though she glanced back at the bar, and decided she’d rather go for a drink. She killed the engine on her bike and got off of it. She stretched and got a few whistles thrown at her from some other bikers down the way. She ignored them, definitely not interested. She may have been on the skinnier side, but Callisto could easily take on anyone. She favored wearing steel-toed boots, and she threw a mean right hook. Her blonde hair looked a little wild and untamed from the long ride she’d taken.
Hopefully a couple drinks, and possibly even a good bar fight, would help take the edge off of things.
Harley did in fact ride a harley, a grey and red model with four diamonds painted on both the sides and the top. And she was a sight. But then, she usually was. Some days she liked to go out like a normal person, other days she'd dig out one of the several costumes from her dreams (or the half-dozen she'd made in imitation).
Today, she had the red and black booty shorts and thigh highs, mixed with a button up white shirt that was mostly open and tied off at the belly, the better to show off many of her tattoos. And her hair was done up in pigtails because that usually got her better deals at bars.
She flounced out of the tattoo parlor and into the bar, fresh ink on her hip in the form of a stylized 1866 - with a jester cap on the 66, because of course there was.
She waved enthusiastically and slapped her hands on the bar. “Hey barkeep! Give me a sarsaparilla!!”
Because only Harley would bounce into a biker bar and order a sarsaparilla.
Callisto was sitting at the end of the bar, and when she heard the order, she looked up from her whiskey. And she blinked. For one, she’d never really heard of a sarsaparilla before, and secondly, the woman that had clearly ordered it was...not something she’d seen before. Her skin was incredibly pale and she had plenty of tattoos. The pigtails were...seemingly odd when compared to the rest of the woman’s appearance.
“What’s a sarsaparilla?” Callisto asked, eyeing the woman.
“Ever watch a western?” Harley blew a bubble of gum and twirled her finger in one tail. “It’s the kinda drink a fine dandy would order. You know the kind that don’t belong in the wild wild west? I wanted ta see if they had it!”
And they didn’t, so she scoffed and ordered the fruitiest thing they had.
Callisto tilted her head, eyeing the woman. “Yet you seem like you could fit in here.” Sure she was a bit more colorful than bikers tended to be, but she had tattoos. And, well, Callisto’s tattoos weren’t exactly all typical biker tats either. She took a drink of whiskey, thinking the fruity drink was a bit more typical to the pale woman, based on appearance.
But Callisto also knew appearances were deceiving.
She grinned at Caillsto, the kind of big bright smile that meant that not all the screws were tight. “I used to hang out with a tough crowd. Mistah J the boss man was a real joker.” She giggled at her inside joke.
That smile was easily read by Callisto. After all, Callisto wore a similar one at times, so she certainly should know what it looked like. “Biker gang or just a tough crowd?” There was a bit of a difference between the two. Of course, given Callisto was clad in leather and a sleeveless black shirt, it was obvious she belonged to the biker crowd.
“Gang. Criminal variety.” She blew some hair out of her eyes. “Wasn’t the kinda guy you really wanted to hang around with for too long though. You either ended up dead, or completely nuts!” She giggled. Obviously she’d become the latter. “Did ride with some people once or twice! Nice folks! Not crazy enough.”
“Ah, one of those types,” Callisto said, definitely knowing the type. She tended to stay away from guys like that. Or else she ensured she got the first shot in, and made said shot count. “Were they kind of sticks in the mud with different ideas of what fun was when compared to yours?”
“Yeah…” Harley waved her hand, like she was shooing those people away, wherever they were. “Mostly they couldn’t keep up, yanno? It’s so hard to find people capable of giving me a run for my money!”
“And in what ways do you need people to keep up with you?” For some reason, Callisto found this woman rather intriguing. She wasn’t certain yet whether she would like her or not, but this was at least a welcome distraction from the hell that was becoming her own mind. She even had a passing thought that Xena might be happy she was seemingly making a new friend.
“Depends on what I’m doing.” Harley grinned at her, her eyes waggling suggestively. “I’m always so ahead of people that they have to run to keep up!” She made a zooming motion with her hand and a zooming sound with her mouth. “It’s usually a challenge. For them.”
Callisto chuckled a bit. “Ah, one of those. You gotta keep people guessing and on their toes. Variety is the spice of life. As is spontaneity.” At least from where she was sitting it was. Callisto tended to get bored when she didn’t have enough variety happening. And if she had to create her own, well, that’s when things got really messy.
Suddenly, and dangerously, Harley leaned over and smacked her lips right on Callisto’s cheek. She sat back, a not-so-innocent smile on her face as she picked up her drink. It wasn’t even that fruity. She stole a look at the bartender that was almost murderous. “Annnnny way. I’m Harley.”
Okay, that sudden invasion of personal space plus the kiss to her cheek had been something she hadn’t expected. Nor was it particularly welcome, but for some reason, Harley got away with it without getting punched in the face. Probably because Harley wasn’t being lewd about it, though Callisto did stare at her for a good solid several moments before her brain registered that Harley had said something. Her name.
“Harley? Like the motorcycle?” No Callisto, like the kid’s bicycle. “I’m Callisto.”
A lopsided smile worked it’s way across Harley’s face. Lopsided on one side, then regular, then lopsided on the other side. She tossed off a playful salute in Callisto’s direction. “Yeah I know, I watched the show. Anyway,” As if that hadn’t just fallen out of her mouth, she continued. “Nice ta meetcha! And totally like the motorcycle. And I’m Harley with a Harley, of course. I couldn’t have anything else!”
The comment about watching the show was entirely strange, but Callisto just shrugged it off. It was meaningless to her, and she didn’t want to find out more about it. “Course not. What model do you ride? And is it customized?”
Maybe someday Callisto would find out more about it and then probably want to stab Harley or something but that’s okay. “Two-kay seven softtail.” She flashed her teeth again. “The only customization is the beaver holster below the light. I left him at home though. OH! And the paint job!”
“Nice ride,” Callisto said. The softail was a nice model, one Callisto had looked at a few years back. But once she’d seen the aesthetic of the Yamaha Stryker, she’d been sold on getting one. “Beaver holster?” Callisto asked, blinking a bit. That was one customization she’d never heard of before. “What’s the paint job?”
“Red an’ red with diamonds painted on it. Also some other cards, always loved aces.” She used to love jokers. Not so much any more. At least her dream self hadn’t come with any Mistah J tattoos she’d have to laser off. She was dredding the upcoming Suicide Squad because some of those tattoos she didn’t want, and she was fully expecting to start dreaming of that one.
“Interesting scheme. Cards are not common paint schemes.” But it was definitely better than the ever popular fire paint scheme that never failed to send Callisto into a fit. At least Xena didn’t have that paint scheme on her bike. “That definitely sounds like a cool looking bike. I like customs, and seeing how creative people become with them.”
“One of these days I’m gonna go hog wild with it. Gonna keep the red and black colors, or maybe add a little green.” Vines wrapping around the tank would be nice. And a steampunk kind of look appealed to her too. It would be a good homage to her wife. She idly wondered if Helena liked blondes.
“Green? Why green?” Not that Callisto had anything against the color green, it was just an odd choice to add when there was a red and black scheme already there. Unless it had some sort of personal meaning, then it would make sense.
“I gotta thing for green,” Harley said, biting her lip seductively as she thought of Pamela. “Long story, kinda boring, I already sound crazy. Well, I’m kinda crazy. Crazy like a fox.”
“Between the two of us, I’m not right up there either,” Callisto said, tapping the side of her head. And she wasn’t. She’d never been completely right after her family had died, but the dreams were prying those cracks in her psyche wider. And they seemed to want to drive a wedge in between her and Xena.
“Just so you know, we crazy girls gotta stick together. All the normal people want to gang up on us.” Harley winked conspiratorially. “They don’t understand that we see the world a certain way, yanno. And that way is just as good as their way. Maybe better”
It was Callisto’s turn to grin in the way that said the screws weren’t all there. “Exactly. I mean, my best friend does try to understand, and to an extent she does understand. But until someone has the same life experiences, they can’t truly understand, can they?”
“Luckily I know someone who understands, a little. But she doesn’t always understand all the way.” Harley waved her hands around as she spoke. “Each to our own experiences, eh, dollface?”
“I suppose it helps that we both have someone who can understand to some extent.” Of course, there were things that Callisto wanted, but she knew they’d never happen so she wasn’t even going to try for them. “I suppose so. We all have our own demons to battle. The demons just tend to win a lot more than some of us like to admit.” Callisto was one of the ones who didn’t admit that she was losing her battle with her demons.
“I learned a sec~ret about that,” Harley sang. She leaned forward, lowering her voice. “Stop fightin’ the demons. Go along with ‘em but kinda…” she moved her hand in a swerving manner. “ Kinda alter the course as you go. Keeps the demons satisfied, makes sure you have fun, but keeps you outta the bad kinda trouble.”
Callisto smirked a bit. “But I prefer the bad kinda trouble. I clean up my messes so I don’t get arrested or bring the cops down on Xena. But I like to make noise and make messes.” Which wouldn’t be a surprise to Harley considered she’d watched the show. Callisto hadn’t really killed anyone in this life, just stabbed several and made bloody messes out of the rest.
Harley’s eyes twinkled, filled with mischief and the promise of a good time (or a “good” time). She was certainly willing to have a good time with an attractive blonde, anyway. “What kinda noise and mess are ya interested in tonight?”
She saw that twinkle in Harley’s eyes and eyed her. She swirled the remaining alcohol in her glass idly. “I haven’t decided yet. I’m feeling restless, and I need something to take the edge off of it.” She was thinking more along the lines of a bar fight. Getting Callisto into bed tended to take more effort.
Callisto’s words did little to clear up the situation. Harley tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Okay there are like three ways to take the edge off and two of them involve losin’ our pants.”
Well. That caught Callisto a bit by surprise. “Two ways involve losing our pants? One is obvious, but what’s the other?” Because she couldn’t quite imagine what, other than sex, involved losing pants.
Grinning, Harley threw her head back and laughed. “Skydiving. Duh.”
“Skydiving? Can’t say I’ve ever been skydiving before.” Which was the truth, odd as it was. Callisto tended to keep her feet on the ground, but she wasn’t against skydiving.
“If you’re not careful you can lose your pants!” It sounded like this had happened before. Either that, or Harley had actually skydived sans pants before. Either was as likely as the other, and she looked at Callisto entirely seriously.
“I suppose that’s what skintight pants are for, huh?” Callisto responded, also seemingly very serious about that. Though there was a gleam in her eyes that spoke to her being amused by it.
“Or booty shorts.” She shrugged her shoulder, then leaned in close. Still enough space to not put Callisto out probably, but still close. “But the third way to take the edge off, that’s the dangerous and fun one.”
Harley certainly liked to toe that line of getting into Callisto’s personal space. “I certainly hope you mean a good bar brawl. Or at least something along those lines. I do enjoy getting rough.”
Harley’s grin got wider. “I like it rough too, dollface. “ She suddenly leaned back. “Okay there are like fifteen bars in a two block radius, it’s 4:45 and I figure we can trash them all before 6 PM if we can rile up the drunks and I’m guessin’ at least two will burn down.”
Callisto was perfectly fine with this idea. Up until Harley said the word ‘burn,’ and then Callisto visibly flinched. “No. No fire. Definitely no fire.” There was an intensity in her voice, the kind that tended to accompany extreme phobias when the phobia was being tripped.
She held up her hands. “Whoa okay, I get it!” Clearly fire was a trauma and PTSD thing and honestly she watched the show. Harley, you shoulda remembered! “No fire. But I bet we can do somethin’ amazing with a fire extinguisher and a liquid hydrogen container.”
It was definitely PTSD-related, something that Callisto had never healed from, not correctly anyway. But she took some deep breaths to try and keep it together. She didn’t need to go into a panic attack on someone she’d just met. “And where would we get a liquid hydrogen container?” She finally said after she’d calmed herself enough to speak.
“I know some people who know some people an’ you probably don’t wanna ask.” Harley was angling to have a good time, up to and including getting to see Callisto naked if she had the chance, but as long as there was chaos she’d be happy. She really needed to get her chaos on. “Are you in or are you out?”
Callisto eyed her for some moments before she knocked back the rest of her drink and set her glass down with a finite-sounding thunk. “I’m in.” And then she grinned, more than a hint of danger laced in it. Callisto was good at creating chaos. So if it was chaos Harley wanted, she was more than happy to provide.