big BANG;;

[Joker]

LET'S START A RIOT!

[/color][/size]

The very next evening...


Things hadn't gone exactly according to plan: here he was, alone, after a very boring session with his new phyciatrist. Some old fart, who reminded him vaguely of Yoda -- only incredibly stupid, and cocky. If it weren't for the dozens of guards waiting for him to make a wrong move, he may have strangled the man to death....and he preferred knives! It was ludacris. The only ray of warped sunshine he got was when he was with his little Harley, but as far as he knew, the girl was probably scared away now. However he hoped not; Joker just might decide to pay her a visit when he gets out of this tincan they call a hospital!

Currently he was pacing in his room, looking from his flickering lightbulb to the guy across from him; this unknown guy liked to make stupid faces, and occassionally bang his head on the transparent wall, like some kind of zombie. At first it had brought a few chuckles, but now it was fading more into severe irritation. He hated Arkham; he hated wearing their stupid uniform; but most of all, he hated her -- for ruining all his hard work, and making him want her, just as badly as she wanted him. The naive bunny didn't know what kind of fire she was playing with; but she was attracted like a moth to the flame that was his enigmatic persona. Not that he blamed her, of course.

Joker hadn't intented to stay in Arkham this long, anyway. He should've been gone weeks ago, but the game with Harley was too tempting to pass, that and his outside connections were scattered. Bored and angry, he kicked his metal chair, sending it to the wall with the straight jacket ontop of it. What a fucking drag. They had even cut his rec room time!

[Harley Quinn]

behold the world's worst accident
i am the girl anachronism

The previous night, when Harley Quinn had emerged from Arkham Asylum, having been given a two-week vacation and strict instructions to dress her wounds once every day, she never made it to bed. The girl had business to attend to.

Her first stop was to pay her parents a visit. Even as a small child, they had never shown much affection towards her, often caring more about the status of their separate businesses than the well-being and health of their own daughter. They were money-hungry, greedy bullshitters as far as she was concerned, no love for anyone but themselves. They were the virus, the epidemic that was eating mankind. They had to die.

Her second stop was to the hardware store. Harley had never been one for guns, or any other mundane instrument of defense, and so she picked up (or rather stole, though that was such a strong word...) an array of shiny new toys to be played with accordingly.

And her third stop was of course home, where she spent most of the night, and some of the early morning stitching away at the loose ends of the outfit she had been preparing for herself, whistling while she worked.

Time flew by, after all, the girl's work was merry and soon she found herself back at Arkham, adorned in the clothes she had so feverishly worked on. It was quite the outfit actually; a black dress shirt two sizes too small, with a red vest on over that, to accentuate the black diamonds tattooed on her pelvis. The skirt, a means of her own invention was decorated with the black and red pattern that shared her name, and matched with a set of leggings, one red and one black as well as her gymnast shoes, also one black and one red. The outfit hardly seemed complete without the makeup she had detailed over for a little over two hours, putting on the perfect red geisha lips, and charcoiled eyes. She wanted everything to be perfect; after all, she was going to see her puddin', wasn't she?

Harley had walked through the halls, a smile on her face as she used her own passcard to enter the building, whistling away at some tune, sledgehammer at hand, apparently unnoticed until she came to the cell she had been looking for.

"What...what're you doing here?!" The night nurse exclaimed, puzzlement in the woman's voice.

"You're gonna wish you'd just walked on past, toots" She giggled, and as quick as she could possibly manage, Harley found herself with her thumbs lodged into the night nurse's eyes. "What did I tell ya?"

After finishing the job with her sledgehammer, she used the woman's keys to turn the lock on the Joker's cell, and she stood in the doorway.

"Hiya, Puddin'" She grinned.

[Joker]

DEATH IS IN LOVE WITH US

Of all the things he had been expecting, seeing his little doctor open the door to his cell, after killing a nurse, was probably last on this list. So imagine his surprise when he saw a lithe physique bounding to his door, and get rid of the pesky nurse, with a sledgehammer. At first he didn't recognize the her, but once her voice hit his ears and he saw her in better light, everything clicked.

"Hiya, puddin'."

Only in a state of quick shock, he quickly recovered; a huge smile forming over his face, striding over to her petite figure -- dressed like a modernized harlequin! It was too much, so he started laughing, and easily pushing her up briefly for a quick little lift and spin. "Harley-girl! I could marry you!" Clearly any anger he had for her was either forgotten, or momentarily put on hold, until they were clear of this horrid building. Once putting her down he walked out of his cell, head tilting at her little handy-word; nodding in approval. It was definitely not mad for a first-timer, and much more original then a bullet.

"Now, which way is out -- and please, do tell me you have a vehicle waiting, hmm?" His smooth croon coupled with a leer in her direction he hoped was just the trick to get this party really started; and wash away any fear she might have of him. After all, at the moment he was thankful; the Joker was keen on repaying well-earned debts, and this was certainly something big.

[Harley Quinn]

Let's you and me take these guns and we'll paint the town red

Harley's heart fluttered with the butterflies she had become so accustomed to, as she felt herself in mid-air, snug in his arms. She felt the relief of what she supposed was his forgiveness. A rather peaceful smile spread onto her lips, momentarily forgetting the dire situation the couple had found themselves in.

"Oh Mistah Jay, you sure now how to make a girl feel appreciated." She giggled in response to his proposal, placing a hand dainty but bloody slightly to the left of her chin, a coy little gesture modesty.

"Now, which way is out -- and please, do tell me you have a vehicle waiting, hmm?"

"Of course I do, whatcha think, I walked all the way here?!" She smiled up at him, with a little laugh, sheer adoration in her eyes. "Now, don't you worry your pretty lil' head about a thing. Harley's got everything taken care of, promise. Just follow me"

And with that, the Harlequin held her sledgehammer in one hand, and the Joker's hand in the other, and she started down the hallway, as happy as any clown couple could be.

[Joker]

LET'S RUN OUR LIVES INTO THE GROUND

Joker snickered slightly, a humble, innocent shrug falling off of his shoulders. It wasn't something he wouldn't put past her, especially with how tiny the woman was. "Alrighty-then, dollface. Lead the way," It'd be far easier to follow someone who knew every nook and cranny in this place, then simply try and make an exit....without any explosives, at least. Without any protest he cradled one of her hands in his, giggling as he made sure to kick the nurse she had eaten to a pulp in glee -- and gloat to all of his damnable neighbors, who were looking rather jealous, and depressed that he was leaving the shithole. Furthermore, he wasn't leaving empty-handed, either! Ha!

"Serves you all right-ah. Never inviting me to your little get-togethers."

Regardless, he was strangely happy to be busted out of this joint by his little bunny; who, looked rather appetizing in that homemade harlequin costume. It just made him want his own outfit even more, 'cause then they'd make a knock 'em dead pair. Joker even swung their entwined hands a bit, like they had been together forever; and were just as happy as sweet apples in a tree.

"Oh, Harley," He'd chirp in a sing-song voice, placing a little bite on her neck. "Let's have a night on the town. What better way to commenerate his escape?