Harley Quinn's Christmachanukah Hullaballoo II
Roleplaying Log: Harley Quinn's Christmachanukah Hullaballoo II
IC Details

Harley Quinn expresses more of her displeasure with Gotham… By blowing up The Punchline. Myrkr intervenes.

Other Characters Referenced: Poison Ivy, The Joker, Amanda Waller, Red Robin, Two Face
IC Date: December 28, 2019
IC Location: The Punchline, Gotham
OOC Notes & Details
Posted On: 29 Dec 2019 05:37
Rating & Warnings: G
Scene Soundtrack: None
NPC & GM Credits: Clowns NPC'd by Harley Quinn
Associated Plots

So, two days ago, Harley Quinn disappeared underground with one Poison Ivy. It was a glorious escape after a fun night out on the town cut short.

After taking a little bit to pull herself back together, the Clown Princess of Crime has made her reappearance. It's like a magic trick, gone horribly horribly wrong. (Or horribly horribly RIGHT, if you ask her. Which you didn't, but that's really neither here nor there, so SHUSH!)

Back to the story at hand.

Quinn split paths with her BFF, because she had some pressing business to continue. Namely, picking back up her multinight reminder to Gotham that she's home and very unhappy with their behavior in her absence.

And so, down in the Diamond District, four clowns started poorly juggling balls. But there's a trick. The balls, when they drop, they bounce so very high. They hit car and shop windows, get lost over roofs, but they really don't seem to be doing any damage, despite their unnatural bounce.

The light tonight are weird. Head lights flicker, dim, or simply turn off. Street lights flicker consistently, one putting out a sputtering spark before dying. most unusual though would be that everything seems dimmer on the street tonight, like the shadows are reaching out. To a careful observer, one might see in the darkness glowing purple whispy lights, a second there, then gone, or a monster in the flickering thats gone as the lights restored.

It's not really much trouble for the juggling clowns that the lights are unreliable; they were terrible anyway.

The nameless, juggling clowns with their smiling white faces, dressed in shiny outfits of blue and silver lame, just keep walking down the sidewalk.

And then? Then on a lower rooftop, where one bouncing ball got lost… There's a powerful explosion. And then another, where one of the balls rolled down an alley. And then another, underground, where one rolled down a sewer grate.

Every lost ball begins exploding, one at a time.

And into the heart of it comes one Harley Quinn, dressed up in red velvet and white fur, hanging from a fire truck ladder like she's the last car in the Christmas Parade. "HEEEEEEEEY, GOTHAM," she screeches through a megaphone. "I KNOW YA MISSED ME!"

To a careful ear, there seems to be a surprised roar as the balls go off, a shadow nearest to Harley suddenly gets a pair of glowing purple whispy lights, they seem to stare at her, like they look further then just at her before they seem to flicker off and pop up somewhere else, closest to the clown men, sometimes watching people scream.

A low whisper like growl can be heard where the lights appear. Almost like the lights are watching.

You know what's great about being half out of your mind? You're only half as scared as you reasonably should be at any time, and often less than that.

As she sees the lights - if she sees them - she really doesn't let it really dissuade her from her present course of action.

The other clowns on the scene, however, they are not quite as immune. They're growing more nervous by the moment, especially as the growling starts.

Quinn? She just offers a beaming smile and swings her arm wide as she half hangs off the ladder she's occupying. "I MEAN," she continues. "IT'S NOT LIKE YA FERGOT TA NOTICE OR ANYTHING! EXCEPT…"

Her smile then turns downright feral and her head drops between her shoulders. "That you kinda did. FRANKIE! GET THE FIREHOSE!

To her command, one of the jugglers comes racing up and hops onto the back of the truck. He gets to the hose and, just as Harley asks, he begins spraying it into the crowd of bystanders.

This of course means that the streets quickly begin to devolve even further into chaos as screaming and panicked bystanders have more difficulty figuring out which way to go.

The growling comes to a sound stop as Harley says 'I mean'. The light don't even appear, but soon as the spraying starts, the purple lights flicker near a shadow closest to Frankie just as a clawed pitch black hand the size of a trash can lid races out like the shadow birthed it towards the poor man arming the hose.

"AAAAAAAAH!" goes Frankie.

Harley's head turns down, and she frowns. "That is very poor aim," she tells him, only for her attention to come back up as the driver comes near a small bar with a beautiful neon sign left dark. Once, it lit up to proudly display The Punchline. Now, all it has is Harley's full attention. "Oh, there you are, baby," she croons to it. "Look at how they forgot you, too."

Frankie is held tight as the creature pulls its-self on to the truck with its other hand, steel moaning in response, yet not from weight, simply its claws digging in. It pulls Frankie close to stare at him before casually throwing him over its shoulder, hopefully he lands safely as it begins to climb up towards the driver area. Claws sinking into the metals before stopping at the top where it lets out a wailing roar. After said roar the moaning and snapping of steel can be heard as attempts to rip of the top of the fire truck can be heard, obviously to reach the passengers inside.

There is more screaming as the candy red of the firetruck peels back, revealing the sweet nougat center: two men in more clown suits. One driving and one … throwing the door open and hurling himself out.

Quinn, despite the scene below, is mostly just angry that the fire truck is stopping. She presses a button in her hand, and the ladder swings wide towards another low rooftop. It's with a nearly effortless grace that she lets her arm and leg swing out… only to catch the perfect spot to step off and then she begins to work in earnest.

With elf-toed shoes a jingling, she begins a sprint across the rooftop and leaps… grabbing onto the fire escape of the building next door and pulling herself up.

She's a practiced hand here, and she knows how to run the uneven skyline here. And she's finishing the rest of the path to the once-happening nightclub, with several bombs made specially for tonight rumbling around in the brown bag she has slung over her shoulder.

While her clown minions try to help each other escape… whatever is happening with the fire truck, Harley's fixing to affix one of the bombs to the side of the Punchline.

The creature roars at them, the runes on its bodying smoldering briefly as it looks about before it's head lifts, almost like its sniffing, its head turning towards where Harley ran before jumping off the truck, like it has better things to do. It runs into a shadow, seeming to meld with it before appearing on the roof tops through another shadow, its head in the air as it catches a glimpse of Harley. It begins to run after her on the roof tops on all 4's, jumping from shadow to shadow, like its teleporting or something after her.

Although Harley can't really teleport, she is pretty dang fast!

She slaps one of the explosives to the brick and then slides down the fire escape into the alley below with all of the familiarity of home, singing all the while, with no seeming awareness whatsoever that she has someone trailing her. "On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: Red Robin tied to a phone tree. On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: Two Face's lucky coin and Red Robin tied to a phone tree…"

The thing actually pauses to look at the explosive its head tilts to stare at it for a minute before poking it, if nothing happen, it would then carry on, teleporting after Harley, shadow to shadow, long arms and big hands reaching for the girl. Flickering lights all around, or simply darkness.

The bomb as its tapped begins to silently count Another explosive is slapped against the glass of the front window. "On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: FIIIIIIVE GRENADE PIN RINGS! Four wind-up teeth, three screamin' cops, Two Face's lucky coin, and Red Robin tied to a—" The last word of her verse never comes, because suddenly out of the dark there comes a set of arms that grabs hold of her.

And it's instinct alone that changes her whole demeanor in an instant. "HEY!" she bellows, whipping her leather messenger bag off so that she can assault whoever grabbed her with it.

The grip around the girl tightens around her as he brings her close to look at her, like she's some strange new creature. It grunts as he's hit by her bag, it swats at it, much like a cat might with his free hand before looking at her real close. Like its judging her, eye's flicker before it says "Tuz hul volz bul." in a rumbly whisper like voice before tilting its had and beginning to walk casually with her, almost like its unsure of what to do now.

"Hmph," says Harley Quinn, bashing again with her bag. "Yer ruinin' the choreography," she complains as though batting at the thing holding her is the most natural thing in the world. She has stared down far worse in her life; whatever this is - whoever it is - is not in the same realm as her Puddin' or Amanda Waller. This is a lesser being by comparison.

That thought makes her brazen.

"But fine," she continues. "If that's the game ya wanna play…"

She reaches for a pin on her bag, to squeeze it down tightly.

So that she can detonate the last of her set bombs.

The thing flinches, actually dropping Harley as it seems to be staring off into the distance, the flickering eyes seeming to flicker even more, Harley distracted as it disappears towards the sound of the explosives.

The explosions that rock the now-vacant club that was once The Punchline are much stronger than what came before from the juggler's rolling balls. The heat fills the alley, fills the building, brings the ceiling down. It would be a very sad moment for Harley, were she allowing herself to dwell on it. But if she can't have this club, this semblance of normal living, no one will.

In the distance, the siren of police cars fills the air as GCPD makes its presence known.

Of course, that means that it's Harley's cue to leave, too. Her uncomfortably dressed minions are already gone, although the fire truck that's here already has definitely seen better days.

As she's dropped, Harley does nothing but laugh. "SAYONARA, SUCKA'," she tells Myrkr, pulling herself off of her posterior where she tumbled and onto her feet.

She's making her escape a beat later, racing for a car where clown-masked men call and beckon for her so they can make a getaway.

The thing appears on top of the building, shielding its-self from the light, simply staring into the fire for a moment before looking back as it begins to teleport back after seeing no one currently hurt, a wailing howl following after, almost like it is overwhelmed in a sense.

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