[color=#FF0000]Things seemed to be going along swimmingly, or at least decently enough that Harley felt at least a bit dignified with the situation. Unlike her Nightwing dressed protege, Harley didn't often spend most of her long nights fighting off groups, or sea's of endless goons. As a matter of fact, Quinn was usually the one dictating those goons to attack people dressed in very Nightwing-esc attire, by the decree of some much more cynical individual. In some ways it almost felt ironic to be here, doing this. Harley Quinn certainly had her fair share of complications when it came to the effect of clown dressed hooligans, but none of those hindrances had been quite the physical sort that she had only recently found herself reminded of.

After quite literally pitching Nightwing one of the many problems in the room to address, Harley seemed to almost entirely disappear beneath the crowd that surrounded her. Like taking a dip in the lake, Harley Quinn disappeared in a body of Joker faced felons who had every intention of keeping her below surface, drowning her in substance of her own former guilty affiliation with them. Harley's body fell to the floor in some brief impatient huff of her own erupting impatience. Laying on her back on the floor for a moment, she'd peer up to the tiny space of light she could still see. 

[color=white][i][b]“Uggggh!”[/b][/i][/color] It was an angered sort of irk, as opposed to one of distress or trouble, but that didn't dismiss the idea that Harley found herself smack damp in the middle of quite the crowded ordeal. She knew that without help she was running out of room to work with, when it came to being overwhelmed by the many who sought to contain her. [i]They wouldn't kill her.. Joka would explode..[/i] Harley considered the option of knowing that none of these thugs could really do to much to her, other then rough her up real good. [i]But killing her- He'd never-! She knew him too good for that by now![/i]

[color=white][i][b]“Dun TOUCH ME! Ya grimy grabba!”[/b][/i][/color] The anger in her voice squeaked out beyond the rowdy noises of the brawl that raged on around her. Stern assertion coated that squeaky tone of demand, before Harley rammed her foot into one of the Joker thugs balls. Kicking that particular clown faced dimwit back gave her just another inch of breathing room. It was enough for her to flip herself up in a snappy acrobatic flip, that took her from her backside and back to standing on both feet. Once there she swung her bat like in hard fanning motion in front of her, effectively hitting several targets all at once with the hard carefree swing of the steel bat, only to watch the henchmen collapse in front of her like living bowling pins. [color=white][i][b]“Ouwa! Homerun! That's gonna hurt when ya wake up. HAHA!”[/b][/i][/color]

The delighted mockery of her tone broke into a light gasp that had her grabbed at both sides of her body. Entrapped by the rest of Joker thugs around her, they tried to keep Harley grappled from multiple directions. She struggled, squirmed to no end, stomped on a foot or two and got a set of those hands to at least slip away, but it wasn't enough. She needed more help. [color=white][i][b]“WHATCA- DAMNIT-! ERRRGH-!”[/b][/i][/color] The squeaky octave of her voice peeped at new heights as her anger built steamed to conclusive boil like a kettle reaching some eruption high pitched explosion. Plenty of people had seen Harley upset before, but few had lived to remember what she could get like when she totally lost it. Never mind having a reason to that wasn't Joker related at all. Joker always repressed the best of her anyway.

Most under estimated the delicacy of her shape. The fragility of more common passive aggressive nature that often only had her trying to find the best way to fix a problem, with some weird joke or crude charade that seemed to scream Joker in so many unoriginal and obvious manipulated ways. Only this time, she wasn't doing it for him, she was doing all this for herself, and that meant something very important to her. This anger in the corky clown princess of crime was a force of something else entirely. Something even some of her oldest enemies have never quite been exposed too. 

Somehow she broke through the grip, holding her in constraint. It was like some incredible fit of strength that had her near lost in the aggressive adrenaline by the means of her escape. Harley was about to return her favor for being groped, grappled and thrown around by, just about anything Joker related. Once she broke free she went wild with superb aggression that had her move in a way no one had ever seen. Mayhem consumed her as Harley put that essence of galvanized adrenaline to work.
[h3][i][b][color=fff200]Ding![/color][/b][/i][/h3]
The end of her bat swung with brutal force into the chest of one of the Joker thugs, who was brave enough to test the degree and relentlessness of that anger. When the bat hit him in the chest, she didn't just strike him, bop him with the fusible end of the bat, she straight knocked him half way across the room with the swing, almost in the way a baseball might be struck away by the power of that string. The surreal show of strength caused several other Joker thugs surrounding her to falter and reconsider the sensibility behind their approach. [color=#A9A9A9][i][b]“Did you see that- she just-!”[/b][/i][/color] The nervous disbelieving raving of another thug tried to warn the inevitability, that came faster then he was ready to embrace. Harley's form spun into a snappish cartwheel that had legs straddled around the spokesperson who tried to warn the others. Legs entwined around his neck, she'd use the straddle of her legs to flip the man almost twice her size over and into the floor face first, forcing him to take a huge chop out of the concrete.[/color]

[color=white][i][b]“Somebody here BETTA start talkin about where JOKA is, or I'm gonna straight break every clown trap jaw in this ROOM! Just wait till they see the line up tomorrow at the local dentist!”[/b][/i][/color]