14230/From the Highs to the Lows, do we need saving

From the Highs to the Lows, do we need saving
Date of Scene:	27 March 2022
Location:	East Park Side (Crime Alley), Old Gotham
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Sinister, Harley Quinn, Lucifer

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Sinister has posed:
Cities have a life force. A spirit. A thing that people tend to think of when they imagine the place. Some cities have spectacular buildings, culture that's vibrant, street life that has its own character.

And then there are other places that have all of the above, but tend to attract the wrong element, the darker side of life, the more deranged of the population. Such is Gotham; number one stop on the world tour, if you are either a Death tourist, or have a really strange sort of bucket list. A black limousine pulls up at the end of Crime Alley, refusing to go any further in. The doors open and after a moment, a tall man steps out, dressed as if this is the LAST place in the world that he ever should be seen at. The lines are impeccable, no fluff, no dirt, no scuffs on his wingtips, cuffs in place, collar starched and pristine and hair tied back. Here though, Nathaniel Essex has absolutely no compunctions about appearing exactly how he is, red diamond and corpse white skin abounding. He reaches into the limousine's open door though, palm out as he slides wrap-around raebans on, which do nothing to obscure the red glow that emmanates around their edges. "Well, we're here. I've always wanted to go here but never actually had an excuse. I'm not sure I have one now, but..."

Harley Quinn has posed:
Harley Quinn stands in the lobby of the hotel, wearing a top hat with a large Hello Kitty head on it and a big black feather. Of course, she also wears a motley bustier, stockings and garters, a thong and a baseball bat with barbed wire wrapped around it sticking out of a small purse rather obviously.

"Now, listen here, Mistah, there's no reason to take that tone. I'm a reasonable maniac! You don't have ta yell! I told ya, the dress code ain't no problem, I got on my fancy h at, that makes everything else fancy by association! I'm a lady so I don't gotta wear no tie or nothin'. An' I saw that one rich lady had her big fake boobies all out of the top of her 'gown'," she says, making air quotes, 'And I's only really showin' butt cleavage. Well, okay, boobs, too, but the butt is more so it counts more, but it doesn't count at al cause of equality between butts and boobs."

"Seriously, dude, I just need to go in for a little bit and bash one guy in the head and then I'll be outta ya hair!"

Lucifer has posed:
Out of that stretch limousine, following Sinister's departure is a man dressed with almost identical pristine quality. He wears Armani - because why not - perfectly tailored with impeccable flair to fit HIS form and no one elses. Black hair is slicked back but also coifed to give that younger man look, blue eyes and olive skin make up the finer details of one Lucifer Morningstar. His suit is a midnight blue with a grey shirt and tie as well as matching grey handkerchief tucked into his left breast pocket. He smiles to Sinister after a moment and then shrugs his shoulders. "I think this is simply one place among many where we should make our existance known. It might draw attention that could be...beneficial. Besides.. we haven't flexed very much muscle in the last little while and I might be aiming for something on a different notion of fun."

Though he does look to the doors of the hotel before back to Sinister. "Shall we then? Who knows what the night will bring us. But I'm fairly certain it will be quite delectable."

Oblivious, for the moment, of what's going on inside. They might walk in at the tail end of Harley Quinn's ramble.

Sinister has posed:
"If not delectable, invariably sordid," in perfect step, Sinister actively waits for the door to be held open for himself and Lucifer at the awning of the Continental. Therefore, it is quite obvious indeed to waiting ears, the tail end of that speech. "Even polite about the need to do grievous bodily harm, it seems, you know you're in Gotham when..." with a chuckle, he leans just a little sidelong to view the butt. Then straightens to view the boobs. "Equity perhaps, I'm not sure there's strict equality," to the fishnets, the garters, the barbed wire baseball bat, the hat, OH the hat!

"I feel as if my eyeballs ought to be angry at me at the moment, but somehow this all works..." he observes of the deviance of outfit being presented by Harley "...Doctor... Quinn, isn't it?"

Harley Quinn has posed:
Harley Quinn puts a finger on the lips of the concierge, shushing him before he can continue babbling on about propriety and indecency and 'city laws'. She turns to face the pair of gentlemen who have approached her, straightening that hat and blowing the feather out of her face with a gust from red lips.

"Ain't no need for the formalities, you ain't on my couch right now, sugah. Just Harley Quinn will do just fine!!!" she says, offering her hand, "I promise, I don't have nothing to electrocute you in that hand. I've given that up for Passover," she says. "I was just explainin' to Wadsworth McPuffinstuffin here that I has a moral duty to concuss a guy what's been abusin' some hookers up in their fancy rooms. Now, the only real problem is I ain't sure which guy it is, but if he would just let me perform a proper search, I'm sure I could find him and give him a good shellackin'."

Lucifer has posed:
"See. Music to my ears already..." Lucifer offers as the door is held open and they walk into and upon the scene that is a mallet wielding Harley Quinn trying to reason with the concierge staff on duty. As Harley then continues to lament to them about her current predicament, his head tilts just so to one side and blue eyes spark. For a brief moment. With hellfire.

"Well then..." He looks around a moment, then thinks on things for a moment longer. "It seems you're here on a precipice that should not exist. No one are allowed weapons, there shouldn't be prostitution and it's obvious that no one. Ever. Breaks the rules here." His gaze goes to Mister McPuffinstuffin - not that such is his real name - and he smirks. "How true is that? That no one breaks rules here. Slips something by you. Hmm?"

Sinister has posed:
"Extremely, sir." The concierge replies, formally. The way he looks, the severity of the reply, suggests that there might be extreme consequences to bending those kinds of rules.

"Won't you be a good fellow and verify with Housekeeping whether salacious activity has occured under your noses?" Sinister proffers that way, after Lucifer's inquiry, then looks back to Harley, eyeing the hand, sans joy buzzer as it is. There is a moment of hesitation, before he takes it. "Doctor Essex. I've read some of your earlier work and extensively on your case studies. Abherrant psychology is a delicious bedtime read..." he offers, then reverse nods at the lobby roof. "The continental does have strict rules though. I suspect we might find your maladjusted ne'er do well with an imminent subdural haematoma in the two-bit three doors down. They pay by the hour, not by the service rendered."

Harley Quinn has posed:
Harley Quinn points a finger at Sinister and looks back at the concierge, "See? What he said! There's an eminence who is haematomain' all over this hotel, mister, and it's my duty as one of the moral protectors o' Gotham's virtue to put a stop to it. You can't be mean t'whores in Gotham, this is a whore town, founded by whores, upkept by whores, built on the backs of whores. Some buildings very literally!"

She looks back at Lucifer and Essex and sighs, "Honestly, this was all a lot easier when I just killed people who argued with me."

Lucifer has posed:
"Well. I wouldn't be killing anyone anytime soon, Miss Harley." Lucifer says this while looking over towards the concierge standing there, and then grins when he goes to run the numbers that Sinister asks for.

From there, he leans in just so towards Harley and motions. "Now. While he's all distracted...why don't you go and take care of the one who's in need of a smack down. We'll keep him all distracted for you. And we'll even treat you to coffee once you're done." This with a grin as he straightens and shifts to walk more towards Nathaniel's side.

Sinister has posed:
"Aah, a lament I can empathise with," Sinister sighs, with sympathy for the cause of being able to terminate with extreme prejudice. A hand is reached to touch Lucifer's elbow, "one sec..." stepping outside of the building, he can be seen through the smoked and darkened glass taking several steps back off the porch, looking up at the building silently. The red glow about his dark glasses intensifies for a moment or two, then he fixates on Harley, up again at the building's facade and counts silently through the glass. One two three four up.... five six seven left, point point point.

Then he makes a big fuss over reading his phone, walking back in. "Still here?"

Harley Quinn has posed:
Harley Quinn grins broadly, "Awwwwwwwwwww, geez, you'd do that for me? Thanks you guys! You're such a cute couple!"

She runs off then quickly, dashing past the distracted concierge who's staring at the glow behind Sinister's glasses while Harley bursts into the ballroom behind them, "I SMITE THEE IN THE NAME OF WHOREDOM!" she yells, followed by a series of screams and crashes as the wedding reception back there is summarily disrupted.

Lucifer has posed:
"You know I wonder if we're starting off a little too grandeur..." He says this as Harley takes off and does her thing. A glance over at the concierge and then he side steps and walks over. The man is grumbling something under his breath and Lucifer steps around and pushes him aside. Even as he's protesting and threatening to call the police, the Devil types types, deletes, copies, pastes and saves. "There. Now you should be able to find the information we're looking for."

Coming back around and goes back to Sinister's side he smirks. "Chaos and disorder, and we haven't even been here half an hour. Are we too good?"

Sinister has posed:
"Potentially. Although I prefer Chaos /and/ order, but disorder at least has those five letters in it. I'll settle for the time being," -- what DID the devil just do, one wonders? -- "Come on," he slips outside of the building again however, pointing down the street a'ways as he walks, calling back "Civic misrule has the enforcers coming by in Gotham. We won't be encountering miss Quinn in the hotel, she'll be battering and running. Besides, I don't want to be there when the questions are being asked by management. We'll come back when it's cooled off."

A diner. A small hole in the wall place, but there's no cockroaches and everything is clean, servicing the people that need to stay alert the coffee is strong. Even if it did look like it got its last make-over fifty years ago.

Harley Quinn has posed:
Harley Quinn managed to dodge all the security for about twenty minutes, largely through Scooby Doo tactics of going in one door and out of another. She also may have fed a giant sandwich to a dog at some point.

She comes in wearing someone else's trenchcoat and fedora over her lingerie outfit, taking off the hat (which was on top of the top hat) and tossing it down in the booth as she sits down across from the pair. "You two don't belong here! You're like...fancy glitter on a turd! You don't know how it got there and you're worried about who it's going to attract."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer is smoking on a cigarette, and has a coffee cup steaming in front of him. He had taken the notion with Sinister to leave the hotel for the moment and return when it was all calmed down. Like his counterpart, answering questions is not something he wants to do. So in this hole in the wall diner, sticking out like a sore thumb, he enjoys nicotine and coffee.

Of course, he has to appreciate the way Harley comes in and gives her own description of the two of them. Though this has him putting up a finger. "Actually, here in this diner we stick out. Likely on some of the city streets we would too. In that hotel, however, respectable people like us wouldn't, as I hear tell it's a place that takes respectable criminal types like us." He grins then.

Sinister has posed:
"Although, there's a grain of truth in there, that the criminal element of Gotham has a grittier quality to it. We are a little too polished to be able to fly there..." Sinister apparently went with his coffee black as night, not quite trusting the cream here, or the creamer. The fedora is given a look as it's tossed aside however, as is the hat that was beneath it. There's a twitch of the lips, apparently in faint amusement.

"We're on tour. Thrills and spills. Plus, I was looking at a portfolio earlier for real estate. Gotham's prices are some of the best in the tristate area." For every reason under the sun, of course. And in a deadpan tone: "I intend to knock it all down and build pristine, unaffordable condos."

Harley Quinn has posed:
Harley Quinn shivers at Sinister, "Ooooooooooooooooh, that IS evil. Yikes. Black Mask wouldn't dare," hse says.

She smiles brightly to the waitress, "Cup of sugar and two spoons o' coffee. YOU HEARD WHAT I SAID!" she says, then casually tucks a twenty in the woman's apron. "More where that came from, toots."

"I appreciate you comin' down here to plebian land to meet wit' me. Although I don't know what it's about! I do haveta thank you for the helpin' out back there. That guy really needed his cerebellum re-arranged."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer smirks, taking a drag off his cigarette and lifts his shoulders in a shrug. "Least we could do, really. Figure the sooner you got done with your business, the sooner we could get started with ours." Or, well, his actually. Did he plan on running into Harley when they came to Gotham? He likely had to know that there was a strong chance that they would!

"So... after all the cerebellum re-arrangement is done in the physical sense, do you ever tuck in and take on someone who might want a bit of cerebellum poking of the figurative kind?"