The Clown and the Hood

December 02, 2017:

Red Hood spots Harley Quinn and the two get to talkin'

East End - Gotham

The first impression of Gotham for many is East End, a district notorious
for it's poverty, crime, prostitutes and drugs. The lit up central strip at
night is colorful, bright and looks like something out of Las Vegas with its
innumerable gentleman's clubs, casinos, bars and strip clubs. The
downtrodden feel of East End has been glossed over by these glowing lights
and brilliant signs along with the towering cityscape of surrounding
districts, such as Otisburg, Burnley and to the north the Robert Kane
Memorial Bridge.

Along the East End's southern region the streets begin to be overtaken by
cobblestone alleyways, alleyways that web work throughout a rundown slum
city of shacks, sheds, makeshift homes and decrepit apartments called
Alleytown. A heavily populated district many immigrants and their
descendants call home.

Park Row aka Crime Alley rests upon the other side of the main strip,
dominated by an underdeveloped housing project called Scurvy City by the
locals (it's actual name being the Skirley Apartments), East End Free
Clinic, the Bowery, Tin Roof Club, Sheldon Park, Robbinsville and the GCPD's
9th Precinct.


NPCs: None.

Mentions: Joker, Batman


Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

It's been a rough couple of weeks. The gal who answers to the name of Harley Quinn though, is trying to forget that fact.

And she actually looks almost normal. Her short, ruffled miniskirt with its layers of red and black, have been thrown over a pair of fishnet stockings and worn combat boots. With her blonde hair pulled into pigtails, she's presently yelling at a closed door to a worn down apartment building.

"Well, that's just fine!" she screams, stabbing her fist in the air and holding it aloft. "I didn't want your lousy room anyway! So you'd better leave my references alone!" A sour expression highlightser Harley's features,

It's cold, thanks to the formal approach of winter, and she folds her black leather-clad arms once after she's launched just one more string o colorful expletives.

She then proceeds to pull a new, folded up paper to start reading the classifieds contained within.

Really. This week can be over, already.


Red Hood had been trailing Harley for a few hours now, seeing if she would lead him to the Joker. He's been itching to kick the shit out of the guy who made his life a living hell for quite some time now. But then he starts to strategize…and plan. He knew that Harley was spending more and more time away from that psychopath, which in his mind, is a good deal.

But, he wanted to see where she was, thus does he don his red helmet, covering up his face completely. He stood up, wearing his black kevlar armor with that painted, stylized red bat on his chest, and a dark brown leather jacket around that. "Alright." he said in a mechanized voice, not drawing his pistols as of yet and he hops down to the ground and lands with a ninja's ease, not even making a sound. Though he does step out of an alley where Harley was reading her files.

"Long night Quinn?"


"JEEZAFLIP." A hand immediately gets set against her heart, Harley offering the gesture with no shortage of theatrics. "I know cats who make more noise sneakin' up on ya. What's it to ya', anwyay?" she asks, her arms folding protectively over the paper she curls back up.

There's a roll of her shoulders. "Also, yer lucky I don't have a heart condition! I mean, seriously. You could just do your SURPRISE routine, and I could drop dead. Right here. On the sidewalk. And then you'd just feel the worst."

Another beat.

"Or at least, I'd hope you'd feel bad," she continues, pale eyes lifting towards the darkened sky. "If you didn't, I would have to be concerned about your mental well-being." She bobs in her combat boots with a deceptive lightness as she leans in to stage-whisper to the be-helmeted man as though to share a great secret with him. "Professional opinion and all."


The Bat Family member simply doesn't even flinch when Harley freaks out nor does he make any effort to calm her. "Heh, I already know you don't have a heart condition Quinn. If you did, you would have had a heart attack the second time you met the Bat." Yep. Second time. First time is how you get them scared. Second time they know your name.

But he moves out of the alley, hands in his coat pockets as he looks at her. "Feel bad. Heh, that depends on a few factors Harley. Though I'd be careful about concerning yourself with others mental states, should look at yours first." He says in competition…though he wasn't insane, he just didn't think like everyone else.

"What Brings you out here Harley? Joker kick you out?" He asks, his eyes looking at the files she holds, though has no interest in them.


Quinn's expression immediately, visibly sours as that J word escapes Red Hood's mouth. "Ain't seen the putz in months," she retorts, her head twisting and nose indignantly turning upward. Her lips purse in a frown, mortally offended by the thought. "An' he can rot fer all I care!" She says it like she means it right now, but God only knows how long it'll last. It never seems to last long enough.

But really, she's not looking for trouble tonight. It's been in and out of dive buildings for hours, so she's got nothing to hide. The harlequin is willing to demonstrate it.

She lifts the things she holds, newspaper clippings haphazardly arranged. "'m jes' lookin' fer a new humble abode, if ya must know." She uses her paper to make a shooing gesture. "So get lost. Nothin' to see 'ere."

To that point, she turns and starts walking with every intention to leave Red Hood in her wake.


Jason just keeps his eyes on Quinn, even as she refutes his statement on the Joker entirely. But he knows Harley always comes back unless she breaks him for good. Which will likely involve a bullet to the head. But regardless.

"Ah huh. Sure." He doesn't say more, but he looks to the files. "What you got there Quinn? Better not be any of Waller's junk." He's been wondering where all these villains have been disappearing to…and the trail led him back to Amanda waller. What was she doing? More questions than answers, but his eyes hold on Harley.


The thoughtless pounding of Harley's booted feet stops then, and her eyes narrow suspiciously in the direction of that cruel intruder upon her walk of shame through the unpleasant residences of Gotham. Her head turns a heartbeat later, and her smile is caustic between those bouncing cornsilk curls. "Look. You wanna see? Here! Have'em! I don't care!" She hurls all of it at the man who's so infuriatingly insistent on pushing all of her buttons tonight.

There's the fluttering of newspaper - some with text circled in red ink - and the skittering of paperclips. A manilla envelope, unlabeled, travels the furthest up the sidewalk. Her hands fly up in exasperation. "I ain't doin' nuthin' wrong," 'right now' being an important and conspicuously missing modifier, "but I hope it's fun readin'. Give ya' somethin' else to do other than bother me.".


Jason just watches her become upset. With Harley, it was so easy to push buttons. Amusing. But then she threw everything she had in her hand at him, and he lowers his head just to look at it. then back to Harley. He kneels down, picking up the envelope and opening it.

"Heh, we'll meet again I'm sure. Though if you ever want to talk…" From someone who's known the Joker's cruelty firsthand…just not an in intimate setting. "Call." and he turns heel


Inside the manilla envelope, there are three letters. Letters of reference! Totally forged letters of reference. There are also some other forged identity pieces in there, branding the blonde as a Susan Wallaby. But who wants a sky high security deposit? Not this gal!

Even walking away, the man earns Harley's ire. She kicks at one of the apartment listings, but misses it and leaves a trail of black rubber along the sidewalk. "I WAS TOTALLY WALKING AWAY FIRST! YOU THIEF! DON'T STEAL MY SCHTICK!" With both hands in the air, she turns and starts walking. "They're the worst!" she complains to no one in particular, because Red Hood's probably already gone. "The absolute worst."


Red hmmms as he reads the document, then turns his head back to Harley.

When she returned to wherever she would stop next, she would feel something in her back pocket.

An Envelope.

That cheeky bastard.

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