1701/Log 1701

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Log 1701
Date of Scene: 28 July 2017
Location: Unknown
Synopsis: Summary needed
Cast of Characters: Miss Moreau, Harley Quinn, Molly Millions




Miss Moreau has posed:
One of Gotham's park, just after ten at night. The moon rises high in the sky, and the air is brisk and cool. A pleasant night in the run down park. With it being so close to Crime Alley, it's a nightly hub for drug deals, prostitues, the homeless, and more than one murder. Yet, tonight is different. There's a feeling in the air, and a strange sight in the sky.

A clearing in the park is shining gently, and not with moonlight. Lights in a rainbow hue coat the air, as things move in and out of the cover provided by the trees. Few thus far have been willing to investigate. Strange things happen in his part of town. Many of them deadly.

But the curious would be rewarded. Stepping into the clearing would reveal a round white table, with four chairs set out. A tea set is laid out, still fresh and smoking in the cup. A man in a charcoal suit and top hat, with a rose to his chest sits beside a woman. Thin, short, and elegant, a gentle frown sits on her face as she sips her tea.

A second man in a similar suit is slumped over the table. He sobs and cries, face flushed an unhealthy shade of red and blue. Sweating, he quivers. The rose on his chest is slashed, red dripping from a light wound.

Passing by him in orderly circles are what appear to be moths. With skin seemingly made of crystal, long tails behind them, they sweep past the man regularly. Whenever one of their tails or wings brushes him? He lets out a wimper.

"Oh, come now. Jason. Jason, look at me, dear heart. You know our rules. Why, if you wanted that car so badly, you know I would have gotten it for you. I love each and every one of you as family. And family looks out for each other."

A cane's tip presses against his forehead, and he lets out a scream even from the light motion. His face bruises suddenly despite it being no more than a tap.

"And you stole from us. Your family. That is a betrayal, Jason." 'Jason' curls up hard, into a ball as much as he can. Slowly, more and more of those moths land on his shoulders and head.

Harley Quinn has posed:
With her Mistah J in Arkham at the moment, Harley has been prowling with the hyenas a lot more often. Both for the companionship, and because what's not to love about slavering predators that will chew on people for the sake of their 'mommy'? And it's Lou, in fact, that comes snuffling into the park in search of something to eat, a diamond collar snugged about his neck as the beast prowls into sight in search of its meal.

"Lou? Lou! Where areeeee yoooouuu?" light and feminine, that's not the sort of voice one expects to hear this close to Crime Alley on its own. but Harley? Is hardly just anyone.

    The clown princess of Gotham's traipsing through the undergrowth in her stiletto boots, short black shorts and a bustier. Most people might choose to at least pretend that they're not going armed... but what does she care about police? Certainly not her with the matched pair of guns tucked under either arm.

Miss Moreau has posed:
A hyena stumbling upon one of her little parties is a rare occurance, even for someone so loving of animals as Miss Moreau. Right in the middle of battering her disloyal henchman, she pauses. A sniff of the air. "Oh dear. Sebastian? Deal with Jason. We have a guest."

Sebastian grins as he spies the collared beast. "Have fun boss. Heh. Never did like you, Jason." Blam! A pistol to the gutt, and Sebastian is thrown from the chair to the ground, dragged off a few feet. Moreau, meanwhile, takes out her Scarlet Tome. Dainty fingers find a particular page. There's an aura about the woman, that only an animal like Lou would recognize. It's nothing like Harley, his 'mother', but it's still matronly. Calming, safe, and above all, loving. Moreau hikes up her skirts just a bit, and kneels down a foot away from the canine.

"And who are you, sweet dear? Come, come. See your Aunt Moreau. She will not hurt you. Are you lost?" Questions Moreau, as she seeks to touch Lou's forehead. Her finger glows purple. Should she manage to touch? Human words become primal thoughts, communication flowing between human animal and canine animal. Concern, naked, is writ on the dainty criminal's face as she moves to rub an ear and find that collar.

Harley Quinn has posed:
Lou's generally not one to trust, it's jaws opening at the smell of blood on the air from the injured soon-to-be former henchmen. A raspy little noise as Moreau comes into his field of vision and a pink tongue snakes between his lips without fear or agression for the strange woman. 'Lou' that collar identify's him as, in genuine rubys to go with the diamonds. Nothing's too good for her darlings, after all... especially when she didn't have to pay for the stones in the first place.

Lou's life-buddy, the appropriately named Bud, is the next creature to shiver out of the undergrowth, but the bleach blond of Harley is only a moment behind, careful but steady despite those heels where she makes her way across the soft ground, only to pause when she finds Lou, and two people unexpected.

"Hey! Lady! You get away from my Lou!" the accusatory call made with a stab of her finger. How it is that Lou's not already munching on her she's got no idea, but let it not be said that she's not going to defend her precious little darling.

Miss Moreau has posed:
The arrival of Harley and perhaps moreso Bud are noted as Moreau hears the rustling and scent of both on her nose. Her fingertips graze the nametag. Sebastian is a little more active, stepping away from the body of that fallen henchman as he writhes and groans. A kick has Jason shutting up quickly.

Those crystal moths gently fly above Harley's head, shining above her beautifully as they cast rainbows against blonde and pale.

"Oh dear. So /that/ is where your Mother got off to. Do you not hear her? She must be frightened!" Chastises Moreau to Lou, before standing. Cane at her armpit, she lifts her skirts just a bit to curtsey.

"I assure you, Miss, I have no desire to harm your sweet, sweet Lou. Nor...that would be 'Bud', I presume? You have been very, very good to your pets for him to speak so lovingly of you."

Sebastian keeps an eye on Harley, openly suspicious. He doesn't point his weapon at Harley, but he looks twitchy. "Boss...I think that's..."

"Yes, yes Sebstian! Right, introductions. Miss Moreau, at your service! Oh, do forgive the mess. I was having a tea party for a naughty friend of mine! He didn't appreciate it, however. Maybe you would like to join us instead, Miss...?" Moreau actually turns her back on Harley, tapping her way back over to the table as she puts away her book. That extra chair is pulled out, and she's already pouring tea.

Harley Quinn has posed:
Harley Quinn let's Lou come to her, squatting down in order to ruffle him and coo at her precious like it was nothing more than a small pup as she watches the pair with those blue eyes. A ruffle of his fuzzy head as she straightens and saunters further in to the clearing, the harlequin pattern worked into either breast of her bustier. The apparent lack of recognition has the clown princess narrowing her eyes distinctly in a way that's probably not going to make Sebastian any less twitchy... especially when it's ended by the sudden blossom of an entirely too toothy grin from the shorter woman. The vibe of mommy causing Bud at least to offer a chittering yelp of laughter in the least.

"The question is, lady... who you think you are to come rolling in to Jokerz's territory." she might only be 5'4"... 5'7" in her heels even, but there's no fear in the way she saunters forward with barely a glance at Sebastian,"An' without paying tribute, neither." there's a small wag of her slender finger. Crystal moths and being technically outnumbered? Harley just doesn't have the fear for that.

Miss Moreau has posed:
Moreau tilts her head in confusion at first. Cool as a frozen penguin, Harley's approach doesn't disturb her. No, she goes right to sitting back down. A pleasant smile touches her lips. Slowly, she sips her tea, only to pause.

Down goes the tea. Slowly, slowly, a joyful grin spreads to her face. Sightless eyes widen in amazement, and a small gasp ouches her voice. "You...truly? Truly!? Sebastian! Tell me, who is this one?"

"It's her. The Clown's girl, boss."

"Ahhh, and now we know why you stride forth so confidently! A predator within her own territory. Miss Quinn, correct? Ah! Please forgive me. Why, I call this lovely city of Gotham my home. Mmm. Myself, and my beautiful White Roses, that is. Ah, tribute you say? I find such things terribly droll. However! I am a fan of your work. Yours, and of course, the dear Prince. Oh, but I hear he has been locked away. Such a tragedy! A Prince should not be confined to a dark tower."

A half bow in her seat. "Perhaps that injustice could be remedied, in exchange for your forgiveness at our rudeness."

Molly Millions has posed:
Sebastian gets a lovely, sunny smile, she does rather like it when people recognize her after all,"Puddin' aint nowhere he didn't plan on being." which likely is why he's still in there, she does elect to sashay the rest of the distance to plant herself on one of the other seats,"We're setting up a party for his birthday... a big ol' coming out party. Should be lots of fun." of course that shark smile might say her idea of fun doesn't necessarily match everyone elses.

"S'you and your mob... you've been here how long? I've been a little distracted with planning lately. But s'long as they stay out of our way there's enough joy to be spread in Gotham... and enough batbrats to share."

Miss Moreau has posed:
Sebastian soon sits after one more smack to make sure the fallen minion stays down. Ignore the groaning and bleeding for now. When Harley joins them? Moreau snaps her fingers. The moths flutter down to the body of the man, silver dust falling from their wings. He's soon covered by them, little suckers extending from their mouths like mosquitos.

The scream descends into an oddly pleasurable moan, and then silence. A minute later, a drained and dessicated corpse remains.

Hands clap. "Oh, wonderful! It does sound like such an entertaining time! I assume you are bringing the fireworks? Myself and my men shall bring the petting zoo. Maybe a pony, if it would please the good Prince."

There's honey and sugar aplenty on the table, all small cups and delicate silverware. Sebastian fishes out a bottle of whiskey, pouring it into his teacup. It too is placed on the table.

"Technically? A good twenty years at least. Small wonder you have not heard of us, my Family and I have been a small outfit at best before I took over from our former leader. We have been dilligently adding loyal, loving members to our outfit. Unfortunately...good help is so hard to find. Loyalty so fragile."

"Enough grounds for more than one pack of hunters, I agree. The White Roses, Miss Quinn, deal in theft, mercenary work, and sales of animals that do not exist anywhere else. There is no creature that we cannot provide, for the right price. Trained, loyal, and loving. Not unlike your sweet Lou. Oh, and do feel free to have them feast." A nod to the body as the moths disperse. A finger along the spine of her book, and they fade out of existance.

"Simply put, we can be an asset. Frankly, it has been a dream of mine to meet you. It is an honor." A hand reaches out, feeling across the table to gently try to feel for Harley's own.

Molly Millions has posed:
There's a clinical curiousity on Harley's face, but it's underwritten by the sadistic delight in the curve of her lips, slightly parted in fascination as the moths break down their target so efficiently,"Oh it's going to be a lovely big party, though puddin's taking care of most of the arrangements. I'll be bringing the candles and making sure Batsy doesn't decide to ditch." she's not concerned about the potential for poison, after all, she's had the Poison Ivy special, so anything potentially deadly in there isn't liable to do her a lick of harm.

"Of course, 's what Mistah J wants at the end of the day.. but oooh, animals. I love my Bud and Lou like they were my own babies, but maybe." there's that flash of a smile again as she spots the hand reaching out, electing to place her deceptively delicate one into the other womans grasp.

"We want no distractions on the night of his party... puddin' 'd be very upset if someone stopped Batsy from coming by to say hi. Him and his little blue bird."

Miss Moreau has posed:
Moreau inclines her head, almost submissively as Harley gives details on the party. "Ahh, so it is our city's greatest pest that is to be the guest of honor. I see, I see! Ohhh, to be able to meet true legends of Gotham! Sebastian, we crack the champagne when we return home! This is to be a night of celebration!" Adds Moreau joyously.

The woman's skin is almost porceline in color, but warmer and with a few more callouses to them than one might expect. Despite her clothes, she's used to using her hands. Gripping, a thumb rubs curiously.

"So soft...aah, you must be so beautiful, Miss Quinn. No distractions. Do not worry. We shall be good guests to your little jambore."

Her attention though, drifts to the hyenas. "Tell me, Miss Quin. How fare your little sweets? They are strong, healthy...but they could be so much more. Would you like that, perhaps?" Teases the woman, lips licked and then bitten gently. It's been some time since she'd worked with hyenas.

Harley Quinn has posed:
"Of course, my puddin' never good resist a good laugh." Harley offers with a bright smile of her own. By comparison, Harley's dainty hands are still clinician soft, neatly trimmed nails and probably a wealth of purloined moisturizer, after all... she has to look good for her Joker.

"I don't know... am I?" she slants a look Sebastians way, asking him rather than the blind woman, though there's decidedly only one correct or acceptable answer to the question.

"More?" she can't help but ask with regards to Bud and Lou, letting Bud sniff around the corpse as she drapes a leg over Lou,"More in what way? "

Miss Moreau has posed:
"And with luck, the Bat and all of his little children shall laugh all the way to hell for the suffering his ilk spread amongst this city." Comes Moreau, the woman snarling suddenly in a matter far too close to a rabid wolf.

Her hand tightens just a bit. Not enough to hurt, but there's anger in this woman. Deep and violent. A shiver, and she finally lets go of those soft hands. There's a hint of jealousy and blush to her features.

Sebastian laughs. "You make the Boss seem plain. Augh!" Whack! Cue a cane to the back of the head. Moreau hmph's, nose upturning and ignoring her henchman pointedly. Sebastian still grins, pouring Moreau whiskey instead of tea this time.

A tap to her chin. "Too vague? I find practical demonstrations much more effective." Comes Moreau, and out comes her book. Settling it into her hands, a finger traces the braille there slowly.

"Oh, by my Power and thy Brand, come forth to thy Mistress. Ragnarok!" Comes her voice, sharp, clear, and commanding. The air shimmers, reality shudders next to the beruffled woman for a moment. Behind her, a creature fades into existance. Easily the height of two men, and four times as long, the lanky, muscled figure of a wolf fades in. It's fur is a deep white, and despite the brisk night, the temperature around it seems to drop. It's breath is icey. Frost builds on the ground beneath it. Moreau scoots the chair aside as the massive creature submissively lays down. She settles against it's fur, teacup in her free hand.

The thing gives Moreau's cheek a lick lovingly. "Miss Quinn, meet Ragnarok. He is a breed of wolf found in Alaska, used to the coldest temperatures. As you can see, he is hardly ordinary. Larger, stronger, loyal. Organs to perform heat induction and severly effect the climate around him. He can freeze a one story building in ten minutes, if he's been well fed."

Moreau's voice is prideful, taking joy in her work. "This is but a small example of what I am capable of, using my Power. Evolution is my canvas, and I, the peerless artist."

Harley Quinn has posed:
"Oh no... we haven't finished making them suffer yet." Harley purrs with delight. There's strength in that hand, deceptively so for it's size, given the way she grips back, laughing in delight at Moreau's anger, both towards the bat, and towards her unfortunately honest henchmen.

Magic, however, is one of those things that is decidedly outside of the clown princess' wheelhouse, and there's a narrowing of her eyes as suddenly something even more visceral than a recent 'demonstration' pops into being,"Now I been off my meds for a good while now... but a huge wolf?" she rubs Lou's back with the backside of her calf as she eyes the massive wolf,"And it aint like... illusion or nothing? Solid as gold?" apparently one way or another she's going to find out, given the way she slinks to her feet to come around the table to touch for herself, after all, what's not to love about massive snow-white wolves? My what big teeth you have, my dear.

Miss Moreau has posed:
Moreau shudders with delight. "A long slow devouring for the guilty and heartless. Oh, Miss Quinn. You surpass my expectations. If the good Prince does as well...ah! This may be the start of a fruitful relationship."

Moreau moves over to let Harley pet and play with Ragnarok to her heart's content. Lounging out like a decadent Queen, Moreau's cheek rubs lovingly on the beast. Whispered words, and the creature opens it's mouth. Those teeth are massive, but what comes out? A tongue, oddly gentle and warm towards Harley. It rumbles contentedly, and despite the frost, is warm and soft like silk to the touch.

"I do not deal in petty illusions. As real as you or I."

Harley Quinn has posed:
There's a giggle from Harley, one of her hands reaching out to put one of those massive incisors, unpreturbed by the tongue as she makes her way around to bury her hands, and face, in the fur of the wolf with her own delight,"Amazing! Wonderful! Ivy does similar things, but with plants... but this! Oh the look on Batsy's face with something like this little darling there." she rubs her cheek in all that fur before adding.

"Who's a big wuvable man-eating wolfie? You are! I just wanna braid your hair and feed you a Robin or three!" she gushes at the monstrous wolf as if it were no more dangerous than a gerbil, only to finally peer over at Moreau with big shiny eyes,"You can make my boys like this?" oh because there's a great idea, totally, especially when dealing with a mad woman whose face is suffused with incandescent joy.

Miss Moreau has posed:
And the dog, with it's master's approval, seems more than happy! It's tail wags, and he gives what can only be described as a woof of pure enjoyment. This is a good dog! Just giant and with flesh rending jaws.

With several more ruffs, Ragnarok is basically trying to paw at her. Gently. Paaaaaaw! Those paws are the size of Harley's head.

"A sweetheart, isn't he? Remind me to let you walk him some time. Oh, here." A card is flipped her way. Gotham Criminal standard clean line. And a neat logo, too. Professional, this crazy ruffle elemental.

"I can. Mmm. But merely copying my work would be so boring. Miss Quinn, tell me of your desires." A pause. Smirk. "Of how you would see your darlings. My work comes best when taken from a place of love and care for animals. The more personal, the better. No need to decide now. It is a very important decision. They're your children, are they not?"