What happened

The helicopter landed just as Lex had promised, and Jack climbed inside with two large boxes of flyers. The door was left open because of what he had to do, and he just didn't want to try to fuck with it when they were up in the air. His luck, he'd fall out somehow.

When they were well over the city, smack dab in the center of it, Jack opened first one box and then the other. He dumped them both out.

Fluttering over the people below were hundreds, thousands of flyers. All with the same thing on them. Going in every direction the wind carried them.

Jack smiled.


From: i_playhard Date: 07/26/2006 12:45:06

Harley had been walking along (okay more like skipping) when something fell down in front of her path. She nearly stepped on it but something compelled her to pick it up instead. Reading it slowly, to take in what it said, she began to jump around clapping her hands.

"MISTAH J!" she chanted skipping around.

This called for a visit back to Arkham.

It had been only a week since she'd lost Donna, which was only a short time after she'd lost her mother, and Diana was definitely feeling the pain. Usually stoic, shrugging emotions off like punches, this turn of events had her feeling like Superman had a training session with her heart. Knowing she couldn't allow herself to wallow, Diana threw herself into work and life. Today she was going to have lunch with a publisher in Central City to discuss the plans for the book she was laying out.

Attention from the masses was the last thing she wanted right now, so she left the tiara and gauntlets at home, and just wore jeans and a light tee shirt to blend, though flat shoes still left her towering over most people she walked past. Diana's mind wandered a moment to Cassie, hoping she was sticking to the regimen she'd set of her, and not doing anything foolish to get herself in trouble.

In a blink, Diana was back to her senses, but she was sure they were fooling her. It was dark now, the streets were wet and less crowded, and she felt a significant amount of air touching her skin. Her dark hair, which had been set firmly in a bun, had fallen over her shoulder, held out of her face by the tiara she knew she'd left at home. Just as she'd left the boots, gauntlets and breastplate she was now wearing, at home, in her drawers. Had someone created an illusion strong enough to fool her? If so, who was it, and how could she shut them down?

She continued walking down the street, narrowing her eyes as she felt people staring. It looked like Gotham, it was too good to be an illusion. The smells were too strong, and the reaction on peoples faces to her presence was too real. But the building she was in front of. There was no building like this in Gotham. Not in the Gotham she knew, at least. Was this some odd uncharted area of Man's world? Were the Gods just pissed at her? "Goddess guide me," she said quietly to herself as she continued through the street. Someone had to know what this place was.

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With a new Robin in town, things had been fairly slow. Terry was delighted to find himself with a free evening, and decided to spend it socializing - something he'd been putting off doing for a long time. He hoped he could remember how to do it. He had messaged everyone he knew from the Institute to join him, but had only received a few replies. Oh, well. Guess this was a chance to meet some new folks.

He wandered around downtown, poking his head into this club and that, seeing who would accept his ID card (swiped from Dick while he was on patrol). Eventually he found a club that suited his tastes - lively, but not too crowded or rowdy, and a full bar, should he care to try his luck with the ID. For now, though, he'd mingle.

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Harley paced back and forth in front of a small shop. On one hand she really wanted those dresses in the window. On the other hand there wasn't really anyone here to help her out in getting them so she'd be all on her own.

"They sure would look awfully pretty on me though" She said aloud. She got a few stares from people, she grinned as a blonde girl stared at her. She wasn't sure if the stares were due to her outfit or due to her talking aloud to herself.

She spun around and the bells on her hat jingled as she landed down on her hands. She paced that way for a while. A random suited man tossed a few quarters at her.

"Hey! I ain't no act!" She shouted back, pocketing the dollars none the less.

"I sure do wish I had someone other than myself to talk to," She said sighing. She flipped back to her feet and plopped down into a nearby bench.

[OOC: Sorry for not being active, I caught the EMO bug and have been hiding from the world mostly.]

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Darien had the day off from work, and he was fully planning on taking advantage of his free time. The endless string of petty crime and minor break-ins he kept being assigned to were threatning to drive him nutty. He missed having a challenge. That was why he took up thieving in the first place - for the thrill, having the only thing between freedom and doing time being good luck and his own skill. Even his time at the Agency hadn't been boring. In fact, it had been anything but boring. This whole being-a-detective thing? It was like the desk job version of being an agent. The DeCosta case was the most fun he had in a long time, even if he had ran into one of those 'superheroes' the papers were always going on about.

But, you know what? Today was officially for goofing off. He didn't want to think about work, or the Agency, or anything at all. Darien had intended on walking around the City some so he'd know where more stuff was, and this was the perfect opportunity. For once, he didn't care about where the shifting streets might lead him.

He sucked noisily on the cappuccino smoothie he had bought earlier, looking through the metal bars of the fence he was strolling past. The City Park lay beyond it, looking like just about every other big-city park he had ever seen, except for the fact that it didn't have very many people wandering around. Maybe they knew something that he didn't.

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Well, Bats was right. Mel'd been squatting in some random motel for a few days now, and everything seemed to be taking care of itself. She found her name on the high school roster, and there was even a uniform waiting in the hotel room for her the morning after she arrived.

Classes were done for the day, and she was wandering around the campus, still trying to take everything in. Everything was so...organized. Precise. Classes never ran over thier time. She even tried to stay after for a bit to ask one of her teachers about missed notes, but she was shoo'ed off to lunch.

So, in her wandering, she'd probably bummped into ten or twelve people, apologizing each time. Theyd either give her an odd look, shrug it off, or ask if she was lost. To tell the truth, she was lost, but she just waved her hand and laughed it off, going on her way.

Now sitting on a bench, bored out of her pretty little head, Mel just watched as everyone walked past, fingers drumming on her jaw, foot tapping. Then she smiled a little. This was pretty normal teenaged stuff, wasn't it?

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Harley snuck off, careful not to wake her Mistah J. She loved being with him, but she needed to see if Red was out there in this strange new city, and something compelled her to sneak off on her own.

She decided it’d be best to go off without her costume, she loved wearing it but she didn’t want to draw that much attention to herself. This was odd for her because usually she enjoyed being the center of attention. She walked out into the city, there were people all around and she jumped a little with glee as she spotted a large fashion boutique.

She began to make her way through the people, skipping along, towards the boutique. Her hands moved back and forth swaying alongside her as she skipped. Several people stopped for a moment starring at the grown woman skipping along. She stopped in mid stride though, wait, she thought to herself.

“This isn’t what I’m out here for. I’m here to try to find Red and explore a little, not to shop. But…the colors are so pretty…maybe just a little look-see…No! I’ve got to just continue on. That’s right just walk on by. You can do it Harley!” She said out loud.

The City Zoo had been broken into. Broken into most spectacularly. Harley Quinn was not going to be alone on Valentine's Day. So she went to get her babies. And sure as paint, they'd been in that miserable place with a bunch of other poor unloved hyenas. So she'd smashed up the enclosure with the same weapon she'd used to smash open the gate; a really big truck.

Bright red of course.

Now, Bud and Lou were fighting over a piece of cow carcass in the pick-up's bed and Harley was headed straight for the park in the center of town. I-man was nice and all, but she'd spotted the coppers knocking on his door when she'd gone up to see him a few days ago. And now he was going in and out of their main place like he worked there. Which would be just her luck.

It wasn't what had pushed her over the edge, though. What had pushed her over, was walking past a row of cars, just after midnight and seeing the words 'love' and 'forever' written on them in blood. It was gross, tacky, hilarious and creepy. It was, Jokeresque. And it'd made her feel so lonely she couldn't think straight.

She'd been waiting and waiting and putting off going to Red's because he just had to be here. There was Green Robin and she was sure she'd seen Superman. And one Boy Wonder at least with the spanky pants. Which meant he was here. The Bat. And if the Bat was here, then her puddin' just had to be too!

But he wasn't.

Unless, he didn't want to find her.

Why wouldn't he want to find her ?

She rubbed at her face, smearing tears and face paint. She didn't mind when he ignored her. But, this place was all whacky and strange and it could be wonderful with him. She considered what to do at a green light, while the people behind her either shouted and cursed, or slowly shuffled around her, realizing that there were real live, feral, animals in the back of the truck and they could pop out at any moment.

Red didn't like the cold, and it was cold in this stupid City. She wouldn't want to go anywhere or do anything. Well Harley wanted to do something. Live it up a little. And she couldn't live it up without champagne. So that meant a supermarket.

She brightened at the thought, putting the truck in gear and randomly turning left on a right driving one way street. Maybe the store would also have chocolate.

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The two of them had left Darien's apartment, and walked down a few of the changing streets before finding a pizza place nestled in a small shopping center. It was one of those places that looked like it was a chain restaurant, decorated in bright colors and complete with a cheesy Italian mascot. As far as he was concerned, it was a lot better than being out on the street in the perpetual cloudy weather, glaring colors notwithstanding.

"Here we are," he said as they went up to the entrance, holding the door open for Harley. It felt like it was warmer inside the place, too, which was an added plus. "You said something about getting meat lover's earlier?" Darien, through some stroke of bad luck, hadn't noticed the flare gun she had in her pocket. He was currently oblivious to the fact that she might be planning something. He just hadn't considered it, really.

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There was nothing like a little home-made napalm to blow someone's apartment door right open. Harley skipped inside, singing. "And heeeeeeeeere's Harley." She tossed her newly acquired bag of tricks onto a nearby chair and moved into the kitchen to make some java. It was only good manners to make a man coffee when you'd just busted down his door. "Yoohoo, Mr. Invisible Man ? You home ?"

He should have been, she'd followed him after that meet up with Little Boy Green. Finding Red was a priority, but who resisted the lure of an Invisible Man ? You'd have to be catatonic.

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After his first day in the City, Darien had gone back to his apartment and slept, hoping that he'd wake up and be back in San Digeo. It hadn't worked, of course. Maybe he should've clicked his heels together and asked really nicely.

He had been awoken by the telephone ringing. Though he wasn't unused to that happening, he hadn't been able to stumble out of bed fast enough to reach the phone before the answering machine kicked in. There had been an unfamiliar voice on the line, asking where Darien was and why he hadn't came into work today, and did he really want the boss mad at him again?

Darien had stood by the phone until the machine turned off. That wasn't like his wakeup call would be if it had been the Agency. He didn't know what sort of job he was supposed to have, and right now, it was the least of his worries anyway.

He had ventured back outside that day, taking in the unfamiliar sights and trying to get used to navigating the streets. By some sort of miracle, he had made it back to his apartment before the shootings started. Some of it had scattered over into his street, but Darien had done like any other normal person would and huddled up in his kitchenette, safely out of the path of any windows.

Now on his third day, he slept through the next message on his answering machine, and left his apartment again.

Darien thought he had gotten at least a little used to the shifting streets yesterday, he really had. What little skill he might've picked up seemed gone today. They just kept changing on him, skipping from streets full of shops to residental districts to distinctly run-down looking areas. At one point, he took a shortcut through an open alley in desperation, trying to hurry before the streets changed on him again.

Then he heard footsteps behind him, and the unmistakeable sound of a gun being cocked.

"Hold it. Turn around, slow-like."

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The shoot out had been fun. Random bullets flying everywhere. Guys who thought they were tough hard core, running away from her with their pants round their ankles and their backsides all bright pink. The alligator in the sewer. It was like Christmas in... whatever month this was. Harley hadn't been able to find a proper newspaper anywhere.

But then again, it'd been much easier, and far more fun, to hold up random people on the street and demand the address to a costume shoppe. Who needed the classifieds. But that was all for moot. Because what should catch her eye as she ambled past; but a fabric store.

A quick brick smash and browse inside and she'd found the most wonderful fabrics for her costume. Which meant she needed to find a seamstress. Thus the lone woman a few feet away who had been frantically working on a sewing machine for the later half of the City's dark shooting days.

Lovely stretchy red. Dark black diamonds. Her jingly jangly ears.

She lay on one end of someone's dining room table, a gun held nonchalantly in her hand, eating a pear. On the other end of the table, was a harried looking woman, feverishly trying to please the crazy person who'd invaded her house and demanded she sew something.

Harley saw nothing wrong with it. The woman was a seamstress. It wasn't Harley's fault she worked from home. And it certainly wasn't Harley's fault she'd had a sign up in her window.

Scattered between them both on the table, was a red, fur trimmed winter coat. Varied red and black under things and two pairs of boots Harley insisted needed little white pompom balls; right at the back.

There was also a brochure for the zoo. Harley was trying to figure out how to get there. After all, if she'd woken up in a prison. Bud and Lou may have too. And there was no way she wasn't going to break her babies out.

This City was stranger than Gotham. Which was really saying something. Harley had ducked down an alley by the prison, meaning to circle around the block. But when she came up to what she thought should have been level with the prison again; because she was thinking another gun and maybe even a squad car would come in real handy about now; she wasn't facing the prison.

She was facing the wharf.

Harley knew her sense of direction wasn't so bad she'd get lost in just a square block. But there they were. Big ships, with shipping crates. Forklifts, and men in heavy dungarees and wool caps and work gloves. And none of them had small feet.

She pinched herself. It hurt. And her head didn't hurt. So she hadn't had a spell and just kept walking. Away in the distance, past the bigger boats, and the rolling waves, was a wall. A very big, very tall wall.

Harley took a step back. There was something very, very, not right about that. The place had seemed strange, sure. But a wall ? Like prison ? A city in a prison ? A city in a prison with a prison of it's own ?

She laughed. That was actually a little bit funny. But where to go next, what to do, how to find Red ? And most importantly, where where the good stores ? She didn't want to walk around looking all grey and drab forever.

It seemed all Ivy's hard planning was finally coming to fruition.

Since her very first day in the city she had concentrated on one thing: finding Harley. She scoured newspaper articles, trying to find crime reports that would match her partner-in-crime's style. She checked hospital lists for anyone matching Harley's description, and visited half a dozen women without success. A seduced warden at the stated penitentiary gave her insider access to the inmate lists, but even that hadn't helped at first.

Then, it seemed, the city did Ivy an favour and swallowed Quinn, spitting her out into a heavily guarded block in the prison.

Still, Ivy was nothing if not resourceful. A week of careful cross-pollination of a few of her special tricks had produced a gift that would certainly help Harley on her way to freedom, if not carry her right into Ivy's arms. It hadn't been easy. The plant had to be small enough to seem safe, and had to be free of any poison or toxin to pass the mandatory screening.

Ivy was rather proud of this one.

Her seduced prison guard could get the gift inside and up to the cell, and from there it would do all it could to get Harley out into the open air. She hoped her friend was in a fit state to utilize the opportunity.

---

"Quinzel!"

The guard clunked his baton against the door a few times to get her attention, before jerking it open and tossing a small box in Harley's direction. It was plain brown card, tied with string.

"It ain't poisonous, so don't trying chewing the leaves." He wasn't quite sure why he was delivering it to her in the first place. His head felt...odd. "I'll take it off you if you do anything dumb, understand?"

He clanged the door shut, and left her to read the card that accompanied her gift, a pot no more than and inch and a half tall, with three tiny ivy leaves sprouting from it.

( Read more... )

"Heck, damn, tarnation." A hand came up to rub at her pounding temples and Harley blinked, trying to clear her eyes. She'd done it again. Luckily, no one was around. Mistah J, she paused to sigh, lips curling up into a dreamy smile, he'd have done her something a bit wicked. That's for certain. If he'd been allowed out of his cell.

Everyone was always so scared of her puddin'. He didn't get the same kind of treatment she and Red did, out on their own to shower, lounging to watch tv. He was important! A man to be reckoned with.

Though, it still didn't mean she liked coming out of these little spells with pink and bruised buttocks and stuff scribbled all over her face. Harley rubbed her rear, wincing slightly at the memory.

And then her eyes focused. There were bars on her cell door. Steel bars.

She twirled one of her pony-tails and moved closer to it. "Aaron ? Wrigley ? Anyone ?" She laughed a bit, a touch nervous but cheerful at the thought she was just the butt of a practical joke. "What's the punchline boys ? Harley can't figure it out."

The cells across from her looked... Harley turned and looked at the crude bed and toliet, not at all like the clean white with all her pictures of her sweetie pasted up on the walls. "It's only funny if you say the punchline..."

She paused. "Mistah J ? Honey ?"

A door clanged. Heavy and metal. At the end of the hallway.

Harley backed up. Strange things happened in Gotham, in Arkham. "Hey guys... has someone been messing with the space time continuum again ?"

"Get to the back o'yer cell." A hard faced man, all brawn and beef and large shoulders pointed something at her as he appeared on the other side of the bars.

Harley froze. Was that a gun ? Who brought a gun into Arkham ? Didn't they know the kind of damage that could happen ?

"Get to the back o'yer cell. I won't ask again."

Harley backed up slowly. Whoever he was, wherever this was, he sounded, not like an Arkham orderlie, but like a Blackgate Prison guard. She'd heard stories, sitting in the background while Mistah J was recruiting; about what happened in Blackgate. People comparing to see which place was worse.

"I'll come quietly. No need for the straight jacket." She laughed again at herself. "Besides, plain white ain't my colour."

But there was no straight jacket.

"Turn around."

Harley's breath caught up in her throat, but she did as she was told. Something weird was going on. Or Puddin' had paid someone a lot of money to frighten her.

"Want me to scream ? Ask and I will." It wouldn't do to disappoint her honey if he wanted a good show.

But the man didn't reply. He grabbed her hands, and shackled them, in front of her, reaching around her body to do so.

"Well aren't we getting close and intimate. I ought to give you a bloody nose for that."

The backhand surprised her. Rocked her. Shocked her. Harley licked her lip, feeling her cheek pink and burn momentarily. She went quiet. Looking around. This wasn't a joke. Sure, her puddin' hit her. Plenty. And all over. And not just with his hands. But let someone else hit her ? That sort of disrespect wouldn't happen. Ever. She was sure of it.

The guard shackled her feet next, and then led her out through the cell doors and down the hallway. Cell after cell of women. All women. In the same drab prison clothes. Prison clothes.

Was she in Blackgate? But they said you could hear the surf pound anywhere above ground in Blackgate. And she didn't even see any windows.

Deep into her thoughts, flexing her fingers and hand within her shackles, Harley tried to figure out what was going on. And then they led her to an elevator and down another corridor and out the door and a cool breeze hit her, damp with rain. There was no surf. And Arkham didn't have a compound like this.

The guard shoved her foward. "Stop your gawking."

Harley didn't know where she was going or what was going on, but she knew one thing. She took a single step off the path to land lightly in the grass. "Red ?" She asked, looking down at the blades beneath her feet. "If you're here... Please, be here. I think I'm in trouble."

The guard shoved her again. Harley stumbled but kept her gaze on the ground. "And don't take your sweet time either. This place gives me the creeps."

Another guard stepped out of the shadows by the door to the building she was being 'led' to and shot his companion a querying look. "What's with her ?"

The other guard shrugged. "Who knows ? Maybe she thinks pretending to be crazy will make her sympathetic to the parole board."

Harley's head spun around so fast she hit herself in the eye with the end of her pony-tail. "Parole ?"