Blissy

[18+] "The Terms & Endearment Of A Vigilante" (Blissy & Squiggle)

Playing games was, well, somewhat of a familiarity to her, even if half those 'games' were hardly fitting of the fair terms of amusement or exhilarating nature. Where as there was always a hell lot of people playing games in Oldcity, there was twice as many people who weren't so keen on seeing them for what they were and how they themselves had been made players by much more unconditional means. These weren't just any games, these were dangerous games, structured to benefit one particular player or purpose in some rigged outcome. While everyone else went on trying to live with the hopeful concept of ever being given any one real resolve to the complying problems in Oldcity, she had moved on and started to do what needed to be done. For how many times had she found herself being thrown into the circumstance of another player, undesiring to play said game at the decisions of far more powerful and shady individuals around her? She had her fair share of experiences no doubt, most of which had taught her lessons only understandable by the subject of being a victim within. Bad things didn't just happen to people without a reason in Oldcity, so much as the reason for bad things happening, was often much more elaborate and conspiring in nature.

To some she had become a saviour, to others a destroyer. Regardless of titles, her intentions of fixing Oldcity were hardly unnoticed, as much as they were effective in their method. Some might argue that effect and morale were completely two different things and to some definitive, she might agree. Maybe that's why she felt guilty about half the things she did? Contemplated the real meaning behind them? While her actions always spoke for her..? Being sure felt like star gazing into a sky lacking of any stars at all and only just catching the glint of the tiniest flare and hoping it were a star. To stare into the absence of her trial and error and try to pull some better purpose out of anything she did, just felt like the worst kind of way of battering her own self guilt or grievances when it came to doing something she knew she might regret, but just couldn't refrain herself from doing.

Ultimately her methods had been effective to those she deemed to destroy or torment in some megalomaniac craving for burying the sins of Oldcity beneath the ashes she made. They wouldn't get away with this.. she'd kill every last one of them.. Letting her conscience slip into the absence of her own catastrophic thoughts, always seemed to give her a weird sort of jive to glee. Where others saw a maniac behind a peculiar arrangement of pink, green and black shades, she saw an answer to something she could have only dreamed of existing at a time far before she had been made into a brutalized victim of what Oldcity could turn you into, especially when Newcity was anything far from as justified as it played itself out to be..

---

”I'll ask you again.. Where'd the money go?” The voice of an irritable lanky male dressed in all black, totting a rather heavy duty rifle, continued to fraternize her with his meager attempts to interrogate her. This whole interrogation thing had been going on for what was well over ten minutes and already the victim of it all could feel her patience collapsing. Then of course the jackass with the gun decided to butt her across the cheek with the stock. He wanted to hit that hard huhh..?! Phoebe's concern for the matter only dreaded further the longer she found herself loosely bound to a chair and incapable of really stopping any further 'heckling' from the felon in front of her.

At first she'd only muse to motion her pink glossed lips around against her upper lip, her tongue gently trying to reach and extend to dip in a little of the blood made up of the small wound on the corner of her lip. Ohhh.. this asshole enjoying thiss.. She should have known better. Feeling somewhat appeased by the light sample of claret coating the corner of her lip, a light humming slowly began to expel from the light tremble of her lip and echo further throughout the empty contains of the warehouse she were held prisoner in. She made no immediate attempt to comply to the light beating the felon in front of her gave her, only seeming maintained by the meager almost delusional reaction she displayed back to him and letting that light meshing of tasting the light drizzle of blood on her lip slowly entice her further, into some maddened temptation only understood by the deepest recess of her unstable mind.

Clearly the felon in front of her disapproved of her chosen reaction to the conditions of trying to make the oddly costumed woman in front of him, compliant to any ounce of showing cooperation. While his 'patience' ran thinner by the noted display of his own twitching partaking in his stature, Phoebe's own gaze gently started to poke around the room as if to avoid answering the question at all. The strangest thing was that she hardly seemed intimidated by anything the felon in front of her said.

“Im gonna ask you one more time RiotBitch.. Where did you 'misplace' our money?!” His tone raised, his arms gesturing up during the verbal declaration of announcing the few other goons standing around the room, all of which seemed almost matching in terms of wardrobe and load-out to some comparatively familiar fashion. Ohh she didn't like that.. That name always..-! The first verbal reaction of the girl with the bloody lip, who only seemed to find some sort of masochist pleasure in the idea of tasting the sample of her own blood, started in the gentle cackling of a light giggle. While her head stayed hung down as if to pronounce some sort of fatigue from the abuse of the situation, her desire for fulfilment or cracking endurance seemed to waver in the odd presentation of that particular giggle. It was like listening to a child giggle and glee away at the subject of something they found funny as with that laugh she somehow seemed to dissolve the entire hostile feeling of the mood, only to replace it with a rather eerie atmosphere of deviance.

"Phoebe, the girl beneath the mask"

“You knoww.. I don't like that-t.. name-e..!” She replied, her tone underlying in a thick essence of carefree delusional response, her words seeming to almost shake and drag as she spoke. It were like Phoebe took the entire circumstance of her situation and turned it into some inevitable cryptic joke that had yet to unfold and take these 'problems' of hers, by horrific surprise. Following the light cackle of her own mortifying response, her chin edged up and the deep sapphire blue of hers eyes peered menacingly into the eyes of the felon in front of her. It were like she were trying to peer into the core of his soul, her lips hung on the arch of a devious sneer growing and extending further across her face. “Oh comee.. onn-n!” She'd say, rolling her eyes and slowly letting that dreadful sneer of a stare slip away and into the absence of the dark silent warehouse around her. “You only gonnaa.. hit me once-e..? Pfftt! Youu gotta try-y harderr then that.. too-!” Her sentence meant an abrupt halt as the felon with the gun in front of her gave her another hard whack in the cheek with the stock of the rifle.

"The Warehouse"

The blow surprised her, causing her chin to collide with the hard wooden end of the gun for a second time and kiss a loud 'smack' of a sound to her cheek. Ow.. She could feel the side of her mouth sting, a few teeth rattle from the impact.. The force of the blow caused her head to turn in painful disregarding momentum as she found herself actually staggered by the force of the hit. Dizziness sung through her head, her cheek stinging in sharp correspondence to the blow given to her. Asshole wasn't suppose too to do thatt..! Agitation took her next causing her to throw her attention back to the felon in front of her while the flustered state of her persona seemed to slowly start to reach one of actual intention, as opposed to the act she was putting on for a certain someone and there certain unpunctuality to show up and 'address' the situation in a certain timely matter. She had been waiting a long time to meet this.. Skarlet Avenger after all..

A light maniacal laughter started to sing from her trembling lips, before she'd slowly start shaking her head in decline to some unspoken concept that only she could understand. Phoebe's eyes were like talons digging into the presence of the henchmen in front of her who she was suspecting was enjoying having her play hostage for the sake of the bigger scheme at hand.

“Youu.. weren't suppose-e.. to do thatt-t!” The euphoria in her tone edged further on the longer her statement peaked into hysterical pleasant response. Despite clearly being annoyed with how things had rolled over and having a certain henchmen of her's take his apparent sadist fetish of hitting her further then he should, it were like Phoebe's exclamation of aggression was maintained by some falsified indomitable congenial charade.

Oh.. Skarlet Avenger would have no real idea what she was about to get herself into..

[High-Casual / Advanced, Mature,18+] Grim Fairy Tales 'Alice'? / Or A Dark And Twisted Wonderland? (Searching!)

"The Terms & Endearment Of A Vigilante" is no longer available!

Still looking for fandom pairings..!

[High-Casual / Advanced, Mature,18+] Grim Fairy Tales 'Alice'? / Or A Dark And Twisted Wonderland? (Searching!)

Bump

[High-Casual / Advanced, Mature,18+] Grim Fairy Tales 'Alice'? / Or A Dark And Twisted Wonderland? (Searching!)

Refreshing my interest in this!

Also throwing up my first original plot pitch!

[18+] "The Harlequin Blues" (Blissy & Roosan)

Dick's parting words rung amidst in her mind the further down the street she went. Once or twice along the way Harley couldn't stop herself from peaking over her shoulder in light curiosity. Was he really going to trust her? She felt doubtful of the idea only having her attention turn to the presence of shadows and empty streets, force her to reconsider the thought. He wasn't following her.. Or at least not through obvious approach anyway.

Feeling somewhat relieved that Nightwing had left her to uphold her end of the bargain also made her feel a bit worried. Since when had Nightwing or any of his conniving friends trusted her before? Would he stay true to his word? Harley tried to brush the nervous wondering thoughts away by the turn of the corner just up ahead. Several steps further down the empty street formatted through the alignment of old buildings and structures that had long since seen much more glorious days, Harley approached a much more lit corner of the street that lead to a dead end. To the naked eye, one might see only old buildings left unkempt, unvisited, though still intact and any evidence of inhabitant long forgotten in Gotham's history on the edge of Amusement mile and the bigger quarter of the area being known only formerly as Park Row. This particular corner of the street seemed unattended with most of the buildings having bricks lining their former door frames and wooden planks across the dark dusty windows. Only old makeshift apartments, long forgotten shops and smaller establishment rest here all disclosed by an old tattered glass ceiling that stretched all the way down the street and to the neighbouring ones nearby and attached to this section of old Gotham.

To someone not knowing where to look, they'd only see qualities of an old Gotham city that had been left to decline to elements and nefarious meddling of various criminals over the years that had visited these places, but to Harley Quinn there was much more then met the eye. Harley paid no mind to the shallowness of her surroundings instead only poking her attention to an old marquee sign that used to list the names of very old cinematic films and show times now long left forgotten or out of date. While everything else in this section of Park Row seemed defunct or inanimate of any hint of occupation, the old marquee in front of her was left active and shining out like a light among the darkness surrounding it.

Coming to a stop at the front of the old and now barred doorways of the theatre (with an over arching and unlit sign depicting the words “Red Room”), Harley would only peak over her attention to the marquee and slowly reach for one of the bright dusk coated light bulbs. At first her fingers only carefully graced over several bulbs as if to slowly recall the secret access process of obtaining entry to the hidden hideout that had been left unknown for years to anyone outside of Joker's gangs. In the process of feeling the warmth of one of the light bulbs gently idle beneath her fingers, Harley would take a slow peak over her shoulder as if to check for prying unfriendly eyes. For a second she'd gaze down the empty silence of the street only wondering if her newly obtained protege was paying any attention at all, before slowly poking her cautious gaze up and behind the higher buildings and shrouded archways of the street above. She really hoped Bird-brain was paying attention.. wherever he was..

Turning back to the lit sign in front of her she'd twist the bulb her hand idled on and slowly spin it from the illuminating arrangement of the rest. Beneath there'd be a small button. She pressed it, which would cause a former nearby barred off alley corridor to come from free and accessible, while only tossing the old light bulb in hand behind her with a careless flick of her wrist. It wasn't like this place needed to be a secret any more.. Plus she just really felt a sudden urge to be a bit brash in all the menacing qualities of her character. Turning and walking into the narrow dark alley she'd turn on her heels to a small dip in the crammed box excuse for another very short and dead end pathway that lead to an old brick wall with various green and purple graffiti littering it. Joker's men's hand no doubt. A statement of their presence or possibly even ownership kept hidden away from the rest of the world. Overlaying all the much older vibrant shades of 'Ha..ha's' and nonsensical statements sat a much more recent addition to the art that came in the form of a poorly drawn cartoon themed Harley Quinn and Joker embracing in a sweet loving hug with a single heart with an 'x' in the middle coming as if to depict the thoughts of the two cartooned versions of the infamous couple.

Seeing that old thing again only made Harley roll her eyes in distaste. She couldn't tell what she disliked more, whether it was the art or what the art depicted. Clearly the circumstance of the drawing had hardly aged well with her. Annoyed by what she knew she couldn't avoid seeing again, Harley caught a brief peak of herself reflecting in an old dusty mirror left in the enclosed corridor, only to catch a glimpse of a smudge in her lipstick. Must have been caused by kissing Bird-brain? Or so she thought anyway, as she'd only become temporarily distracted by the infraction in the rest of her exquisite physique. Whatever the reason for the smudge was not so important, as much as fixing it were. Reaching into her back pocket she'd pull a small cap of murderous red lipstick free and gently fix the lapse in her dangerously racy façade.

Couldn't go stormin in there lookin like a tramp! Harley only near coo'd at the devious thoughts of what she were about to do to the unlucky handful of Jokers men hidden away on the other side of the secret door. She was gonna paint the place red with Harley Quinn in a way these boozo's have never seen-! Oh wait a minute, Bird-brain was still tailing her.. The brief thrill of turning her party crashing into a much more destructive event folded on the subject of remembering she had made a promise. A light huff of impatience sung from her lips, eyes rolling in agitation before she'd be stricken by an idea. Nightwing might have seen her at the first door.. but he wouldn't have any idea how to get in the second.. unless.. The ripe end of the lipstick left her lips as she quickly began to scribble a little message on the brick walls for Nightwing to follow. A second or two of scribbling the words 'Cross my heart and hope to die' beside the small Harley Quinn doodle would have her seal the cap and put the stick of make-up away. She'd then reach forward and gently press her hand down on the large heart with the 'x' in the middle and a small shift in pressure would cause the entire small wall to become loose, easily allowing her to push it to the side.

Harley stepped into the new secret corridor in front of her, taking simple steps forward at the sound of the wall behind her sealing closed once again and effectively locking her in. Bird-brain was gonna have a fit if he thought she was locking him out.. but it wasn't like she could prevent herself from being locked in.. Several short steps down the narrow interior corridor would take her to the abandon and rather Joker themed lobby of a long forgotten small theatre known as “The Red Room”. The lobby was empty, except for the presence of a single snoozing clown masked guard who had seemingly dozed off. While his ability to stay on guard was clearly questionable, the terms of his arsenal were left much more evident. Unlike the last clown wearing goons she had encountered, this one was armed with an ACR rifle.

“Bang Bang!”

Harley slammed her fist on the cheap plastic glass that kept her separated from the slumbering buffoon in front of her. He snapped awake gasping in surprise only to immediately find his finger going to the trigger of the gun before his attention turned to address the very real and living former harlequin, that every clown in Gotham knew as Joker's ex-girlfriend. “Waa-! HARLEY?! Is that really you? I thought-” Harley's irritable gaze quirked on the arch of a comic brow, before she'd near press her face into the plastic glass in front of her as if to get a better look at the clown masked idiot on the other side of the glass. “DEAD?! Ya know.. Everbody KEEPS SAYIN THAT! Im really starin to wonda if ya all knew about Joka's plan from the beginning.. What he do?! Tell ya he'd pay ya extra to keep QUIET about IT?!”

The clown mask hooligan stumbled to turn to the small shoddy door at his side before leaving the booth and coming around the corner to address her face to face, you know, by sticking his gun in hers. “Im pretty sure your suppose to be dead aren't you?!” He responded through the nervous coarse tone of his voice. Harley snapped both hands to her hip and let the boredom of her mood sink in full impatient display. She looked like she might do something very bad, the kind of bad that was acted on impulse. A second later her face went smug with mischief. “Here's a question for ya.. seein as how you think you kno how Joka works.. When have things EVER gone according to PLAN?!” During the exclaim of that particular statement Harley saw the opportunity to smack the gun from her face, pivot forward and effectively elbow the goon in the chest. It was enough to wind him, though that was all she'd need. Taking advantage of his stagger she'd easily grab the gun from him and whack him across the face with it's side.

“Dun mind if I do.. You've been an awfully terrible gentlemen holdin that for me so long.. I think your at least inclined to take a nap outta good favor? WHATTA SAY?! Ah-he..he..he!” She didn't let him answer only bashing the man into unconsciousness with the rifle as that maddened giggling sung out in devious satisfaction. Once she finished she'd stand up straight, adjust her top with a light tug so as not to prevent anything from accidentally slipping out due to her former frenzy of forcing the door guard into a slumber, with her finger now prime on the trigger. Stepping towards the small door to the old booth room in front of her, she'd let her finger click down and fire off the gun wildly up in the air. This was her way of getting everyone's attention, being a distraction and making things easier for Nightwing, even if that meant just about every single Joker thug nearby would come running in a second.

“Bang, Bang Bang!”

The gunshots roared out and Harley locked herself in the booth room as she'd only edge over to the old control switch to a long unused P.A system that connected to the exterior and interior of the Red Room. The sound of running men came stomping with quick pace, force piling into the door as Harley would force her butt up against a particular switch and keep the button held down with it, both her hands primed on the gun to address the situation trying to break down the door in front of her. A loud electronic click rung out through the once silent and empty streets of the forgotten corner of the city.

“Open the door! Harley, I know that's you in there- GO AWAY! This is a private Harley Quinn public radio service announcement and If you wanna make ur own then ya need to wait your own damn turn..! Harley- im gonna kill you! Before Joker even gets his hands on YA! Didn't ya hear?! Im suppose to already be dead!

"Pew Pew!"

More gun shots rang out.

“It's too bad you boozo's aren't any good at doin your jobs..! Maybe you's all need to reconsider better career choices?! Ya make AWFULLY GOOD TARGET PRATICE! Not like any of you have the competence to stop me ANYWAY! It would take a roof fallin on me to even make me RECONSIDA my poor academic approach to dealin with you losa's! ”

And there was the signal Nightwing would be waiting for. Harley only hoped he had been paying attention to what and where she went and could put the clues together about the secret back door. The ball was in his court and it was time for him to uphold his side of their bargain as well as really put his training to handle the situation to the test.

[18+] "The Harlequin Blues" (Blissy & Roosan)

Harley's rather bold intention of stirring up the tedium of the mood came off strong. Not like she cared what Dick made of her intention to push his buttons in more then one simple and literal way. Harley Quinn needed to live for a thrill, especially since these days the only real thrive she got was obtained through smashing up some of her more recently obtained problems. Things had changed for her in Gotham city and hardly being back much longer then a week only served to really remind her of all the things she missed, among the handful of others she could really do without.

Finding some form of elation from the greater overwhelming bloom of her gloom felt like an attempt to keep her head above the surface, from all the underlying sorrow that served to try and pull her under. Somehow and for some reason, she believed that Nightwing may be able to prevent that from happening. It felt weird to put her hopes in a former enemy, even if seeing him as that same old opponent of hers, hardly seemed as easy as it used to be today.

No matter the response given from the bold display of her nosy actions, Harley knew Dick would either have to comply with her demands or shun her from the idea. But which of the two represented his outlook on her today? It was certainly time to find out..

He shook his head and said "Give me a few moments to find us a straighter stretch and I'll show you what this beauty can do." With that, he jinked around a few corners and came to screeching halt at the head of a long deserted stretch of road.

Instead of doing anything immediate, or forcibly in declining Harley's wandering curiosities to try and cause mischief among the subtleties of the situation, Dick only discouraged her from the idea through the form of wagering cooperation with her patience. The response caught Harley off guard, so much as the shake of his head sort of caused her to assert her attention to the man and his request for her to hold on temporarily. Was he seriously going to let her press buttons on the dashboard? Was this the same Night-brain she remembered? The same night-brain that always came between her intentions to win the favour of her former mad lover? Harley only narrowed her eyes in compelled enigmatic gaze, her lips pursed on the thought of wanting to challenge his little desire to fulfil her own request for dangerous exhilaration at the request of her own brief patience. She wanted to denounce the idea, but instead she found no reason to. For the first time ever Harley Quinn found herself easily complying to the terms requested of her by her adverse peer.

“Fine.. have it your way then..” She said, trying to hide the near disbelief of the answer she still doubted she really heard. Resting back and sliding her chin from her former light brush against the shoulder of the man she thought it would be fun to antagonize and pester, Harley retained her patience in favour of feeling regarded, no short of throwing on adorable musing smile at the idea of knowing that this wasn't going to be all about Nightwing and his journey to find the Batman after all. This really was going to be about both of them..

Letting her excitement linger on the gentle silence of her cooperative smug accomplishment, Harley let Dick throttle the bike from the remaining busy intersection and to a much quieter street. Once there she'd slowly peak the curious gaze of her eager imaginative blue eyes down the emptiness of the stretch in front of her. She saw barely anyone, hardly anything but old warehouses and factories left long unattended, but that hardly seemed to disturb her hope in waiting for what Dick kept in secret. She pondered on what he might be scheming at as she'd only set her sights on the empty stretch of land ahead. Her eyes widened in hysterical wonder to the conclusion of knowing what Dick was going to do as both of her hands wrapped about the size of his waist and clenched in tightened sharp entwine, as she'd press her chin back up against his shoulder edging her appeal of the situation with light nuzzle of her chin to his cheek, as her exalted gaze peaked just beyond. It was only at that time that Harley felt defined in realizing that she could still have her fun and that nobody else around her would need to get hurt. An interesting lesson only teased to her by the least suspecting individual.

“Gee.. the things ya miss when you hardly kno where to look.. he he..” She near whispered with a peep of a giggle back to the driver of the bike, before hearing his comment about counting to three before she'd be allowed to press the button. A gentle nod ensued in response, Harley's confirmation to Nightwing's request seemingly like a spellbound nod the idea of pressing the button and only dreaming what it might do, given the circumstance exposed in front of her. “Three? Why three, why not one, or two?!” She blabbered on letting the blatancy of her excitement sort of flavour the good nature of the mood before easily reaching back over and trying to keep her finger from just slamming on the buttons as hard as she could and never letting letting go. Like a child eager to go on the biggest most bad-ass ride of their entire kid life, Harley could feel the impatience slowly ripping her apart.

"Press it on three."

"One..."

"Two..."

"Three!"

By the time Nightwing had just barely pronounced the word three, Harley had jammed her finger on the button and sent them both accelerating in insane turbo forward. The bike revved and wallowed forward like an unstoppable force of supersonic speed and into the night. Down the empty stretch of former nocturnal silence they'd plummet until a sharp squealing of the tires edged Harley's excitement on to a new height of satisfaction. No, it wasn't satisfaction. It was surreal bliss instead that thrived through her, causing her nerves to stand on end while her grip around the waist of her protege clenched at the evidence of showing some sort of possible affection for the surprise ahead. With only the short of empty stretch ahead and the towering ramp beyond, Harley felt a joyful thrill empower her and dissolve any former ill emotion she had for Nightwing in that moment.

Harley's grip was true and stronger then ever only embracing the man in front of her with limitless expectation. They'd hit the ramp and go sky rocketing through the night sky, like a shooting star at breathtaking speed and expeditionary wonder. She felt like she could fly in that moment.. soar forever, forget her problems of Gotham where they were on the grounds of the city below her.... “WHOOHOO! YIPIEEEEE!” She called, no screamed out in elated epinephrine as she'd soar through the air and come crashing back down onto the other ramp with the heavy recoil of the fall, near causing her to fly off at the crash of the bike just hitting it's stability of balance against the opposing ramp. Frankly she didn't feel concerned if they made it back down in one piece, given she hadn't felt that free and consumed by her own infatuated struggle for blissful gratification since she first found herself over taken by the thrill of earning her infamous name in Gotham city's history. The main difference was, this time, she wasn't hurting anybody for anyone and this moment was all for her.

And beyond they'd go into Gotham's new night and towards the trials that may lie ahead..

---

The bike came to a piercing stop just several streets down from the duo's destination on Harley's command. She didn't forget Nightwing's preference of stashing the bike a safe distance away, supporting the idea with only her spratic announcement that the place was just a block or two over. “Stop here!” She commanded over the high winds and powerful lashing speeds that drove the bike forward. With the bike in park, Harley slide her hands from the former cradle around Dick's waist and hopped off the bike with quick precision and energized motivation. She turned in a quick motion, that smug contented grin riving to a point of enamour that seemed to hang about on the edge of her lips. It could have been from the thrill of the former experience of speeding through the night on the bike, or the climatic secret that won Nightwing anything but further demerits to her terms of favour, but Harley's conscience felt very intrigued and intrigue often led her to much more audacious shows of expressing her affection..

Before Dick could get off the bike, Harley closed in on him like a cat entrapping a mouse. For a second she'd just stare down in his eyes with a enchanted glint, as one of her elbows slowly edged up on the handle bars as if to grasp Dick's attention. When he looked up, she'd quickly peak over and plant a firm sharp kiss against his cheek. If he tried to move away she'd only turn her cheek to the attempt of his withdrawal and gently brush her own up against his with a gentle coo. She'd then step off with a snappish wink and sway of her hips as her expression became engulfed in mollified content. Hand reaching for the bat slug at her back, she'd pull it from place and rest it against her shoulder.

“Ya don't need to say anythin Bird-brain, I think you've showed me enough already.. I gotta hand it to ya, that's gotta be the best motorin experience I think I've ever had.. Not like your head was in the.. game or anything, but ya know.. the engine really kicks, so sometimes it kinda felt like it.." A pause and then she'd continue. Dun look at me like that, I ain't some floozy.. I was talkin about the engine weirdo..” She claimed, as she'd walk further and further away only timing her steps with her forward departure from him this time, so she knew he wouldn't fall too behind. “Feels nice to kick back and break the rules a bit don't it? Ya coulda killed me.. but ya don't see my complainin.. do ya's?” Another nasty solicitation sung out from those mischievous crimson lips of hers before she'd slowly point forward with the bat and direct their venture ahead. “Just down there, it's a secret place only accessible by a certain back door, courtesy of a very clear no bat-creeps policy.. If you stay covered well enough and just let me do the talkin, I can get you in without any noise at all.. but you gotta trust me.. So go do whatever is you do best somewhere where you can keep an eye on me and i'll arrange a private invitation to get you v.i.p access into Joka's little amusement club.. Oh and Bird-brain ya gotta trust me, don't come swoopin down at the first sight of trouble.. okay? I'll scream real loud about the sky fallin or something, if I require yer emergency assistance alright? Keep an ear open.” She said, before letting the beguiling pace of her steps carry her further down the street with light sanguine dawdle.

[18+] "The Harlequin Blues" (Blissy & Roosan)

Fondling Nightwing's ab's wasn't something she had got to do in a while, not like she got too much meat of them anyway. Everyone of the Batman's protege's came prepared, very prepared in fact to deal with things that were far more menacing then the shallow groping of a one Harley Quinn's menacing fingers. It wasn't so much the feeling that mattered, as it were the act of knowing she were more then likely crossing forbidden territory and leaving her redolent advances in Dick's conscience. She wasn't no Bat-girl or whoever it was that used to have the luxury of riding pillion to him.. This was Harley Quinn on the back of his bike.. and she was just getting started with making her new position a lot more comfortable..

“Do you rememba what it was like the last time I did that? Was coiled around ya like a snake.. I bet it feels a bit betta to have it done with your consent doesn't it? Not like I can get much of a grip anyway..” She teased before the bike accelerated at the exclaim of a loud revving, before taking them speeding off into Gotham's streets. Harley didn't expect an answer, but passing up the opportunity to remind Nightwing of what their first little confrontation with each other was like, was just too good to ignore.

The speed of the bike kicked into what Harley could consider satisfying throttle. She felt amused with the take of Nightwing's acceleration of the vehicle and the thrill it caused her to feel almost liberated by. For once in her life she wasn't speeding away from trouble but instead soaring towards it with any concern for having that trouble prevented, wrapped around the tight hugging grasp of her arms. When would something like this ever happen again? Would something like this every happen again at all? Harley went to work in trying to decrypt a question she had never found herself puzzled by until this particular night and the circumstances that had caused it to turn into something she could hardly admit she'd ever be ready for. Whatever the answer, Harley only felt overwhelmed by a sense of euphoric that actually made her feel hopeful when it came to working towards a change, she had long only wished she could pursue.

“WEEEEEEE!” A wide smile and pleasant eagerness reflected the loud squeal, the faster and faster they went, as she'd shift the idea of trying to understand her feelings and where they came from in the particular spur of that moment.

For a while Harley doubted the unexpected thrill of the situation might last forever, her mood and entitlement to show compliance, seeming to only project her desire to try and work as well as she could with her new partner. That was up until they started to slow down anyway and she started to lose her grip on that sense of exhilarating adrenaline and favor for her new partners certain annoying persistence, to the presence of bystanders.

Nightwing's direction on maintaining speed seemed to falter to anything but acceptable limits the minute they started hitting the busier sides of Gotham's streets, where people still roamed about their own private nightly business. Harley's grip slipped and then tightened around the muscularity of Dick's form, before she'd slowly poke her chin over the side of his shoulder, near brushing the end of her chin against the fabric of his suit. Hearing Dick's statement about stashing the bike and moving on foot, flew right over her head.

As something to do, Dick turned his head slightly and said over his shoulder "When we get close, we'll stop a few streets away to stash the bike and then approach separately, okay?"

“Yea yea.. Go fasta okay.. Im gettin bored.. You bein all careful cuz there's a couple of average joes around is really killin my mood..” She announced, as if that was any of Dick's primary concern. To her it mattered more then he knew. Harley felt her mood slowly wallop from her lack of amusement, as her eyes began to project a rather devious glint about them as she'd stare only at the fancy dash of the bike and ignore Nightwing's peak over his shoulder. She looke determine to solve her little problem, that same problem she were about to make clear as day to her new partner. “Oh come on.. just let me press a couple buttons of dem shiny buttons on the dash-” She didn't request to do it this time as one of her hands carefully slid away from her grip around Nightwing's waist and she'd slowly try to poke over at the dashboard.. “Which one makes this thing go full turbo.. You's got a full turbo button right?! I seen what B-man's car can do enough times, don't try n tell me this little beauty cant do the same..”.

[18+] "The Harlequin Blues" (Blissy & Roosan)

Apparently she was getting somewhere with him. To be completely honest Harley didn't really know what she did right, but it was obvious she were slowly figuring out how her contrasting new counterpart, preferred to be productive. Of course Dick was never short of his own commitment to rectifying his own personality, but she were already well aware of that by now. That was something they apparently both had in common. Like the butting of two individuals that both had the same inevitable goal. It were safe to say that their reason for everything that had taken place so far would be enough to maintain the loose terms of their partnership. Or at least for now anyway..

"I've got plenty of faith in my 'little sticks' thanks. I'm more concerned about how to go in quietly. When was the last time you entered a building by stealth, Harley?"

Dick made no shame about his preferred approach. Sneaking up on people was somewhat of a profession of Batmen, or former side-kicks of people baring likeness to that sort of person. That's just how Nightwing preferred to play ball, even if she probably hadn't even considered ever dipping into the more silent and clean ways of getting things done. Harley Quinn didn't work like that. Harley Quinn liked to make noise and she liked to be seen when she was doing it. Thus came the dilemma of knowing that even if she wanted to comply with Nightwing's techniques, she wouldn't be very good at it. That was going to be a problem.

Harley pondered on the idea of trying to envision what a tag team up with Nightwing might look like in her mind, while sort of losing track of the solemnity of the situation. There she was at the door, gun in hand.. There he was sneaking around.. probably using vents or something to get in.. She opened the door.. Joka's boys went all gawk eyed at the sight of her alive and well and then- BANG! Everything went to hell the minute she pulled the trigger.. Night-brain dived in, using her distraction.. Yeah that's what it was gonna be like and then-! Harley's amusement in visualizing every little grim detail of the mess she made in that fantasy, like a troubled child infatuated with the idea of causing trouble, really began to leak onto her face and cause her to smile in woeful pleasure. Another moment of star gazing at the roof tops above, brought her attention back down to Nightwing in front of her. She had a plan, but he probably wouldn't like it.. because her plans kinda sucked honestly.

“Neva.. unless putting my hands ova my eyes counts, while pretending im one of you NIGHT-CREEPS.. Hey, what I do on my own spare time ain't any of your damn business. Harley shrugged, convey a look of anything but concern before continuing forth with her little speech. Stealth is hardly a fittin quality of my good character.. That's your job, your the one who sneaks around and gets the drop on people.. Me, im much more of a professional at causing distractions.. So im thinking were gonna have to work togetha.. Yeah I know, me makin things easier for you.. Times are really changing aren't they..” Harley teased her plan, not getting into the main details of it right away. If she told him about those they'd probably be stuck there forever trying to come to some inevitable conclusion of a plan they'd never both agree to. The mere thought of it caused her former excitement to almost completely flounder.

With an expression of insincere sincerity, he nodded. "I know, I know; it's hard to keep up disliking me, I've heard that before. But so long as your fun doesn't include death, permanent scarring or crippling, I can work with that. How do you intend for us to get in though?"

Harley only felt a bit rejoiced by the idea of knowing Nightwing wasn't going to let her get too violent, as much as she'd prefer to make this a big mess. He could certainly try, but sometimes accidents happened.. A gentle snicker expelled from her lips, as she felt overwhelmed by the desire to grin, given what he declared. “Don't flatter yourself Bird-brain, you haven't heard it from me before.. But that's besides the point, right now we have a common goal.. That makes us, frien-! Uh, colleagues.. And how we both wanna tackle that goal is a little provin a little troublin.. See unlike you's im a much more adaptive fighta.. Which makes me unpredictable.. How many times have I pulled the gun on ya in the past? Made ya drop your guard cause ya thought you's had me all figured out? It's called SURPRISE Night-brain! And it works wonda's when you know really know how to use it! Let's just say im gonna give Joka and his boys the biggest surprise of their life he..he ” Harley felt accomplished in trying to educate Nightwing further about Harley Quinn-fu, even if that was really only half the plan. She'd need him doing what he did best to make sure nothing bad happened. “So long as they don't get back up, there's no need to knock em back down a second time I suppose.. You betta not hold your punches, or we may have a real crisis on our hands.. When I play whack a mole, I dun like to lose.. That just means ya can't hold back. Maybe you knowing I'll be storming in the front door all by my merry little self screaming profound things, might help jog your own motivation to address the situation yer own way.. Just let me do the talkin and do the sneakin.” Or that was the rougher idea of her plan anyway. For a minute she waited for Dick to confirm her request, to ride as a passenger on the bike. To her surprise, he gave her permission to ride pillion, of course doing so while readdressing her choice of wording of the particular term.

"Make yourself comfortable, though I'm not sure that's the politically correct term for a pillion passenger."

There wasn't any arguing with that. Harley only felt a gentle smile peak to the corners of her lips, before she'd swing herself in place behind Dick and ready herself for the ride ahead. She brought her lips close to the brim of his ear once she felt comfortably seated and continued further with frolicking with the situation, just for fun. “You think I don't know what the politically correct term is? When have I ever been politically correct with you's? And why would I start now..?” It was an odd statement, but a fair one that seemed to support the idea of Harley Quinn having a pretty shallow record in being anything but appropriate. “Ya forget who your talking to? Then again I guess you would, since this is really one of the first times we've ever seemed to have a meaningful conversation..” At the conclusion of those words Harley's arms would easily reach out and grab hold of Nightwing, purposely fondling his abs a bit. A light coo seemed to sing at the presentation of a satisfied grin. “Don't mind if I do.. Put the peddle to metal Bird-brain!”

[18+] "The Harlequin Blues" (Blissy & Roosan)

Despite her undying effort to get make the former boy wonder blunder, Dick's ego seemed almost entirely untouched. He held his ground, even when she threatened to make a scene for the sole sake of trying to fluster him up. Whether she liked to admit it or not, Harley had to hand it to him that he took more then she thought he would before they found themselves butting heads over the classical inevitability that had always led them to conflict.

Was this the same Robin she remembered? For a minute, she actually felt doubtful of the comparison. Nightwing had clearly come along way, much more then herself since the first time she had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting him. At least one of you is moving up in the world..- Ugh! Envying Nightwing? What the hell!? That damaged side of Harley felt near ravaged by the idea of ever even so much as considering feeling envy for the like this particular person. It could have been anyone, anyone else.. but noo it had to be Night-brain!

Her pessimism broke through yet again, shattering any former display of complacent joy that still lingered on her lips. Harley slowly felt her mood sink into absolute tragic boredom. Trying to get a kick out of rattling up Nightwing really hadn't been going the way she wanted it to. When did anything ever go the way she wanted it to? With a subduing sign she'd give in, as she'd watch Dick move to his bike and lean on the seat.

"To be honest Harl, I'd put my money on the bat breaking first, this old thing doesn't take a scratch."

Even if she wanted to smash the bike, apparently she wouldn't have that luxury either. Being ensnared in a lose-lose situation hadn't exactly motivated her to continue with her childish antics, at least in the way she had been trying to pursue them anyway. She'd have to be more clever then that, take some time to consider what she could do, or say, to really get under his skin. In the mean time she could just shove off his attempts to get in her own head. Like he'd get far.. If there was one thing Night-brain isn't, it was someone who could ever understand her.. Or so she thought, not making much else of the matter.

Harley's grip on the bat tightened, before she'd pout a averting expression back to Nightwing. “You wanna put that theory to the test, or do you wanna smash some unfunny clowns? Which you prefer?” She let the question hang with the intention of mocking him with the information he'd only request of her, moments later.

Straddling it and reverentially putting one hand on the handlebar, he shook his head regretfully at Harley. "'Fraid not, I'll just have to make it work without you driving. Now, you still haven't given me an address..."

Harley only huffed in a pretentious extinguish to the idea of Nightwing shooting down her kind request to take his bike for a spin. Realistically it was a pretty stupid question to ask, but it wasn't like Harley ever turned down the chance for fun compacted with all the dangerous thrill that might come with it, upon having it literally drive up behind her and almost invite her to the challenge. Maybe she'd find a way yet to take his bike out for a spin, but for now, she just had to try and forget about it.

“What if I's told ya I had my motoring license? Would ya let me take it for a spin then?” She asked, trying to take one last jab at the idea of overruling Nightwing's former rejection to the idea of her driving his special bike. She even went as far as to bat her eye lashes in all matter of innocent exchange to the idea of deeming herself purely harmless, to the state of whatever might happen to the bike if he did. The answer was probably still no, but it was always like Harley Quinn to speak her mind. Even if that meant nobody wanted to hear anything she said, or just straight tune out of her rather squealing frequency.

Eventually she let the matter go, only because she intended to come back to it later. She'd take that beauty out for a ride yet and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.. Dick's comment about more serious stuff sort of jogged back her attention into the thoughts of the present and her vengeful crusade. His question felt like an understate of one, considering Harley knew there was probably a dozen places Joker could be hiding, not to mention rat holes for his men to be infesting. The real question was where the best place would be to start.

Pondering on the idea of where might be best to look first, only forced Harley to conclude to a much more deleterious conclusion. “Old Gotham.. there's a little place between Crime Alley and Amusement mile..” She started giving him his answer, only to swing the honesty of it into a much more intricate answer. Harley had something devious up her sleeve, something that could very well make or break this delicate partnership she had, but she needed to take a chance. She needed to prove to whoever Nightwing was, that this wasn't the same old Harley Quinn talking to him that he probably saw as some helpless dame that was just destined to make him see the worst in her. “Joka always loved the old amusement park there, you kno, the one he turned into a labyrinth of twisted little fun houses in his honor.. You's rememba what it's like ova there don't ya? Can't say I've seen you in the last little while so, dunno if you even snoop around Gotham much anymore, unless your just here for your precious B-man and his perilous situation.. Frankly I dun care.. That's Joka's old turf that area is, you outta expect bigger opposition with bigger artillery there.. Dunno if ya little sticks will do ya much good..” She teased, before moving closer to the bike and gently dragging her finger along the mint condition of the one of the handle bars.

Harley's eyes diverted from the bike in a brief analysis and up to Nightwing. This was probably the closest she had got to him all night. Part of her wanted to appease her curiosity in discovering who the man behind the mask that had given her so much displeasure back in the early days of her playing side kick to Joker's mad crusade, really was beneath. Normally she might even try to pry at it, continue in her annoying little commitment to try to figure out who Nightwing was and how he worked, but she felt she had done enough fraternizing of the man who had just saved her from an unexpected tricky situation, at least for now. This wasn't some form of gratitude right?

“Then again, you have me and that's a little sumthing sumthing Joka's crew don't got no more.. I can point out where the place is, considerin it's unmarked, nearly invisible unless you know where and how to find it, but you gotta promise you'll let me have my fun with Joka's boys once we find em.. This is a personal matta, more personal then me trying to continue disliking you..” She finished, almost flaunting herself in front of him, with her weird little decree of stating something she probably would have much rather preferred to keep to herself, locked away, buried, deep beneath the sins of a former mad jester who once promised herself she do anything for mad love. This was the first time she had ever looked at Nightwing as more then just an enemy and the more she found herself compelled to stare back, the more she felt like she hardly knew him at all.

Once she finished in her terms of engagement, Harley leaned over gently against the handle bars, trying to prevent Dick from even thinking about taking off without her. “Oh and there's one anotha tiny thing.. If ya won't let me ride ya bike, then will ya at least let me be your riding bitch.. I promise I won't touch nothin, not unless there's a big red button that pops up on the dashboard n says don't press this..” Odd how Harley' tone almost became seductive the longer her request to ride anywhere on the bike became apparent. She'd return a coy smile, awaiting his answer, never moving her elbow from her rest against the handle bars.

[18+] "The Harlequin Blues" (Blissy & Roosan)

Harley felt determined, dedicated to seeing Nightwing gaffe, as a lazy means of trying to feel like his equal or better. She should have known better then to keep poking, keep sticking her fingers in the deep end, just to see how long she could get away with doing it before one of the bigger fish tried to pull her under. Whether it was for the thrill, or the desire to show supremacy to a cause that hardly cared nor mattered by this point, Harley wasn't going to back down and she certainly wasn't going to let Dick have the last laugh.

How many times had she been made the butt of the joke? Been slapped around at the expense of one Joker's dreadful slap-stick comedies? Harley Quinn wasn't about to become the early former Robin's little protege and especially not under the circumstances that always left her with the short end of the stick. But not today! Nope, today she was going to take the pokey end of that stick and poke the simper right off Night-brain's smug little face

Eventually her desire to reach some superiority complex seemed to come to a fair conclusion, a conclusion that clearly hadn't been thought out, all that well. It really didn't matter whether she wanted the car or not, or if she meant to steal it, or was just trying to get a rise out of him, because Nightwing had other plans apparently. Harley's daunting venture forward served to take another step or two against the side-walk beneath her, before she'd stop at the sight of seeing Dick not only respond, but press a little button on his wrist thingie. Why did the good guys get all the cool toys? Dick's response was hardly needed, once she saw him press the little button on his wrist, Harley just knew he had something up his sleeve and it wasn't just a flashy button that when pressed, did nothing but serve to vex her with the idea of feeling near primitive when it came to comparing herself to someone with so much gadget tech.

With a lazy grin, Dick shrugged. "Sure, we could steal car. Of course, I'd be honour bound as a good citizen to call the other boys in blue if I saw criminal activity like that going on. No, I was thinking we could take my ride." With that, he pressed down a button on his wrist with a self satisfied smile.

Holding that composure of smug mischief wasn't so easy, not after she saw him do that. That dreadfully compelling smirk of hers only slid away the longer she tried to maintain it, the longer she realized it would be impossible to feel like she were one-upping her competition. Harley's former arrogant exuberance seemed to slowly slip away at the trade of a dissatisfied huff. Okay.. you win this round NIGHT-BRAIN!

Her arms came to a another tight hold beneath her bust, her chin turning in displeased notice of Nightwing pressing down on a secret button. Nothing good ever happened when any of the Bat-freaks did that.. At first she'd just let the derision of her own failed attempt to run his cool into the ground, steam and burn away. It was quite tragic really, like watching a fire consume and slowly burn away the former pride she thought she had when it came to pushing Nightwing into the second place role of their unspoken partnership. It all seemed like a lost cost, a waste of time, up until Harley realized that Nightwing's little gadget toy might very well be broken. Oh, maybe there was some hope yet..

"... Just give it a minute, alright."

Just give it a minute, was enough to tell Harley that something was wrong. Either Nightwing's little tech gadget was broken, or someone was doing something that was interfering with it's ability to work efficiently. “What's a matta Night-brain? Dun tell me I was right about B-man giving you the cheap stuff? Sucks to be fourth place.. don't it?” She sort of questioned, light wink flashing his way, as the idea of feeling righteous for even a split second really served to jive inspiration for her to continue in her sustaining charade of antagonizing her company. The whole time Harley waited for something to happen, her eyes stuck to Nightwing's faltering smile. It didn't take a former background in psychiatry to know that Nightwing was trying to keep his cool, despite the odd correspondence of whatever it was he had called on to come to his command. “You know.. I gotta ask ya's, why do you wear that mask anyway? You, B-man, THE REST OF YOUR WEIRD LITTLE FRIENDS.. What's the deal, at least with B-man's it helps keep most of his face concealed, you's though.. What's the point? I mean really? Don't try and bury your humanity in the ground, I can tell you ain't nearly as cool headed as you think you's are.. If there's one thing im good at it's watching people.. and I know someone when they're tryin to hold on to something with a false face when I's see one..” Or so she'd declare. The irony was that the same could be said about her and she wasn't even wearing a mask. Nope, instead Harley just always seemed justified by her ever changing sense of expression and intricate loyalty to always thinking she was one way, as opposed to another.

Nightwing's bike had impeccable timing, only showing up right as she reached the end of her sentence. A revving engine, squealing tires and a light that near blinded her when she turned to look, Harley turned to the marvel that was Nightwing's special method of transportation. She could hardly believe her eyes, any of what was left of that former ego of hers being shovelled down her throat in a quick gulp of shock and awe. The bike was beautiful, so beautiful, that she didn't think it was fair for Nightwing to have, among the many other things he already did. The only thing wrong with it was the shades of colour it came painted in and that damn insigna that reflected it's owner's own marking on his own very chest.

A moment more of taking in the marvel of a sight in front of her caused Harley to turn her attention back to Nightwing with a light baffled tilt of her brow. She wanted to say bad and annoying things, so many more obnoxious things in fact, but she couldn't seem to find the drive to do it. Though Harley didn't want to admit it, Nightwing had really won their first round of head-butting after all. Confused by what to say back in any lingering intentions to defend her shattering ego, Harley gawked at the thought of being able to even ride on the bike at all, as a passenger or driver. She had to admit, this was pretty cool.

Dick mumbled "couldn't have got here any sooner, could you?" under his breath as he turned back to Harley. "What do you think? Better than a stolen family car? I'm sorry there's no kiddie seat."

“Not bad Bird-brain, not bad at all.. Mind ya, it could use a different paint job? More red, less blue! Maybe even some remodeling in the front..?” If the devious tone that coated her voice wasn't enough to explain exactly what it was that she were imposing, then the slow shift of her bat from her shoulders would. Like she'd smash his bike. Maybe two or even three years ago without hesitate she would, but it wasn't like he didn't know that. Guess that meant that first round she lost was going into overtime after all? “Easy! Easy! I ain't gonna smash your toy, well, not with my bat anyway.. But you neva kno what otha things might happen.. Unlike you, I like livin on the wild side.. You letting me drive it right? I think if you let me drive it, it'll work just fine..” She teased him further, giggling as she formed those words, walking closer to the bike and standing beside it, before her eyes slowly shifted back over to Dick and let him make the final call. Obviously he wasn't going to let that happen either, but that wasn't the point. Harley knew Dick might make the worst of what Harley might end up doing to his bike and with that paranoia sitting on his conscience, that would be enough keep her in overtime.