8582/A Fitting time at the Fifty/Fifty Club

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A Fitting time at the Fifty/Fifty Club
Date of Scene: 30 July 2019
Location: The Fifty/Fifty Club
Synopsis: Harley learns how the Rogues get treated by superheroes
Cast of Characters: Harley Quinn, Flash




Harley Quinn has posed:
Stuffing a fancy napkin down into her otherwise corsetted red top. She is scooting herself along the floor and making the chair screech some across the ground as she raises up a hand. A few snaps, "Garcon, garcon! Hey, I'm callin' Garcon here!" And she's starting to get loud. There's a few people trembling at their tables, and there's this light rhythmic beeping sound as little red lights flash under the chairs of various people.

A waiter walks up and Harley grabs her menu and looks at it, and then squints some, and then looks at it longer, squinting more. Before she says, "Alphabet soup. Get me alphabet soup. That's what I'm wantin', and none of that fancy crap, I want the original Chef Boyardee Alphabet Soup." And then she looks at the menu some more, "An' pineapple juice. No, wait, I'm probably allergic ta that, hmmm. Ain't never gotten tested." She smiles big up at the waiter, "Got this lack of trust fer doctors, ya know?"

And then she nods, "Jus' bring me that soup, an' some of them breadsticks yer famous for, also... a bubbly water. The spritzer kind, you know the one, they use it in circus acts." Harley is talking loudly, almost like she's the only one present and many of the other people in this more fancy club place. And then she adds, "Also, tell the band ta play some Aqua. That'd be real nice of ya." And she pads around her body till she finds some bullets, those she stuffs into the waiter's pocket like she were giving a tip to some stripper. Once alone again, she settles back, comfortably picking up a newspaper to read it.

Flash has posed:
In this day and age, it's amazing just how fast news can travel. There he was, sat in his California king sized bed, with a glass of milk on the nightstand, on a coaster of course, snuggling up under the blankets, which were turquoise at the bottom, with a white and grey flower motif running through it. The wall mounted television set was showing off the latest episode of the Orville on PVR when his mobile phone chirped. "Oh, why does this always happen when Bortus is about to sing?" He hit the pause button on the tv, and flipped through the social media. Something was going on in Gotham.

Hopping out of bed, Barry Allen revealed his adult men's pajamas, which were of a pizza pattern, with pepperoni on it. He picked up his ring, and released the compressed Flash costume, changing out of the pajamas and into the uniform in a dizzying blurr. The television was turned off, the bed re-made, the milk drank, and placed in the dishwasher downstairs, and in moments, he was stood in the doorway to the Fifty/Fifty Club, near the concierge. "Table for one, near the blonde in the red and black harelequin outfit, if you would be so kind?"


Harley Quinn has posed:
The host at the front of the restaurant is currently handcuffed to a little stand there for taking down names and looking into books. He motions, as best he can, in the direction of Harley who sits alone currently. The door opening and shutting is about the notice that Harley gets. But she's currently slurping loudly down her carbonated water. She looks to the side form her glass toward the door and then back to her bowl.

She starts moving things, using a fork and her biggest spoon. And then she gets a word on the spoon and she smiles, "Flash. Easy peasy fresh and squeezy." And then she scoops that up to her mouth and slurps the word loudly off the spoon before letting out a very audible, "Ah." And then she sips some of her water again.

Flash has posed:
Noting the handcuffs, Flash picks them. He was good at that. Super speed helped, but he was a cop, albeit a forensic scientist, but still a cop, so he knew his way around restraints. "Thank you, sir," he said, suggesting he meant it for the directions, though it was as much for dealing with the situation so calmly.

His next step is dealing with those troublesome pressure plates that were flashing. Zipping through the room, he proceeded to work on each and every one, saying in super speed things like 'excuse me', 'oh no, please, don't get up', 'how's the steak?', all of it for his own enjoyment, as he was moving ridiculously fast.

With that out of the way, he took up a seat at the same table as Harley, "waiter, I'll have what she's having." Then he leaned in, asking, "is it good? Slurping usually means its good. I think its good. Yeah, I'll have one of them."


Harley Quinn has posed:
And there's blurring, and zipping, red lightning all over the place, and then there's a small pause as Harley is reading the paper and she sort of flips down the top half of it to look over at The Flash. "Ya want one of them? Ain't that a little bit incorrect mister zip around doin' things?" She questions him and then folds up the paper, which happens to be the comic strip section. And she folds it up nice and neatly and settles it on the table. Lifting up her napkin that's tucked into her corset styled top, she dabs at her lips, before reaching down and playing with her alphabet.

"Yer in a fancy joint an' yer gonna order Alphabet soup? Ya know they had ta go a bit of a ways to pick these up. I think the closest Walgreens is a few blocks away, I was wonderin' if the person was gonna call the cops or not. Are ya like the chef's brother or somethin'?" A pause as she looks down to perform surgery with her fork and spoon. Getting a few more letters onto that spoon, L A U G H and then she starts laughing loudly, before slurping that off of her spoon.

"Well, ain't we just a pair of peas in a pod, we are. Jus' gettin' to know one another and yer already orderin' what I do, finishin' my sentences, savin' my victims, we're meetin' in a fancy restaurant. And they got some Aqua songs bein' played fer the perfect ambiance." Then she leans forward onto her elbows, raising her hands up and intertwining her gloved fingers so her chin has somewhere to rest, "I feel like we're jus' movin' a bit too fast. It ain't me, it's definitely you."

Flash has posed:
"You made it sound so nice that I figured I had to give it a try." He was trying to be nice to her. What she had done tonight was wrong, very wrong, but she was still a person, a very sick person. "It's something like that. He's actually my father's brother's nephew's cousin's former roommate."

"You could definitely say that. I don't know, maybe it's that whole male reptilian brain thing, but I've always liked fast things, fast cars, fast bikes, fast running. So Harley, in all gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, how come you walked into this one?"


Harley Quinn has posed:
Looking over at The Flash, Harley smiles a little bit, "It's okay, ya use humor to deflect, so I ain't gonna take it personally." And she grabs one of the breadsticks and dunks it into her soup, and dunks it some more, and dunks it some more. "You know ya got cape written all over ya. You ain't got no cape, I'm sure that'd jus' cause some kind of added wind resistance or somethin'. Plus, snags on things, I ain't real sure how Batty does it, but it gives him a real 'swooping' effect. An' he's all about pretenses."

Then she lifts up her breadstick and taps it on the edge of her bowl to make the tomato sauce soaked end break off into the bowl, and she holds it up wiggling it. "Smometimes though, a breadstick is just a breadstick." And she shrugs her shoulders, "I was hungry, an' the doors were open. Yer talkin' about the brain here, it does things an' yer concious mind is given information later. Personally, I like bein' a backseat driver, means I'm always surprised on what the world brings." A quick pause, "Also, it means I getta read the signs."

Flash has posed:
The staff here were too nervous to be some of Harley's plants, or they were incredible actors, so he trusts the food coming from the kitchen. It was the same kitchen that provided the food for the other guests, and Harley. And if nothing else, he had pretty good healing and a metabolism to match, so he felt he was reasonably safe to eat it.

"I don't wear a cape, but I guess I am one. Capes aren't too good for aerodynamic. I guess nobody ever told the big guy that. Technically, anything flying through the air is aerodynamic, but there are no useful benefits to the cape, except style, if you can call it that. Not my thing. I prefer a sleeker look.

"I think Batman has, actually I know Batman has. He has a ton of different toys. Like, he has all the toys. I wouldn't be at all surprised if someday he were to pull out, I don't know, shark repellent from that utility belt of his."

"And you're good at reading the signs, aren't you Harley?"


Harley Quinn has posed:
"I got myself two eyes don't I?" Harley Quinn questions and then oohs, and starts fiddling with the letters again with her spoon, until she has spelled out E Y E S. And then she eats it, and then chomps on some bread a bit. "I ain't wear no cape. Cause I ain't hidin' nothin'." And she looks over at The Flash, "Ya -really- aren't hidin' nothin'. Though when ya got that speed, who needs ta hide right? Ya jus' zippity about an' all that. There ain't no runnin' from you none I guess."

And she thinks a little more, "I ain't got nothin' to worry about. You aren't the Punisher. Though he's kind of dreamy. The way he tortures folks, busts'em up real bad, like, and then POW shoots 'em right in the head." She takes in a quick breathe and lets it out a little in a swoonish sigh.

"Ya know, that Nightwing fella, he fought The Punisher over me. It was really flatterin' but that guy's too much of a knight in shinin' armor." And she says it in kind of a distasteful voice, "These breadsticks sure are dry." And she starts dabbing it again in her bowl of soup, "You know what I don't like about yer costume?" And she points over in the direction of The Flash, sitting there, "The mask. I get it, all ya alleged heroes are afraid of the truth, so ya gotta cover up yer face ta protect yer loved ones from people like me." She chuckles, "News flash. I ain't gonna care none if the person means somethin' to ya. They all do, right? So it ain't matter who I kidnap, kill, or dunk in a Houdini styled water box filled with pirahnas. Of course, I'd give the fella a snorkle. I ain't a monster."

Flash has posed:
She most certainly didn't hide much in her costume. But then, neither did he, as she correctly pointed out. "Yeah, you can hide, but you can't run is kind of the order of the day with me." It was hardly a state secret. But then she started going on about the Punisher, and Flash gave her quite the look. First the Joker, then the Punisher, and finally Nightwing. This lady had some serious issues.

"Nightwing fought the Punisher over you? Who won?" He was curious about it, but then she had to go and turn the conversation really creepy. She had reminded him that she was not just a woman with issues, but dangerous, and psychotic. She needed urgent medical attention. "Some wear masks, some don't. It's a personal choice. Much like how the other half sometimes cover themselves, and sometimes don't try to hide it. What did the Joker think about Nightwing fighting the Punisher?" He had heard, or read, that much about her.


Harley Quinn has posed:
"I ain't much one fer hidin'. I don't do nothin' wrong, so why I gotta hide? I ain't like a cat skulkin' about, or a Bats tryin' ta peep in on nobody." Harley converses with bread in and out of her mouth as she talks and chews. When asked about who won, Harley smirks, "I did." There was a bit of a shrug, "Joker ain't the jealous type, some days it feels like he'd rather I go an' be with someone else. But that's jus' him bein' friendly, an' charmin' and all that. Plus, he's secure in his masculinity, ain't gotta worry that I'd really fall head over heels fer no one else."

And Harley smiles a bit, "I get a bit jealous sometimes though. It's jus' the way I am I suppose. Real jealous. But that jus' goes to show how much I care." And she pauses a moment, and then asks, "I ain't too sure what you mean about the other side. Mistah J and I, the ice bird fella, green suit with the question marks has a mask, but really its on again off again. I think he's got some kind of MPS. We all wish The Croc would wear a mask, he's got halitosis like ya wouldn't believe. Not a lotta masks ta be sure. You, Bats, the million siblings he's got, all you run around real fast types... hmmmm."

Flash has posed:
It's a shame that Barry went into chemistry and physics, because he's suddenly wishing he had taken more elective psychology courses. Delving into her mindset would prove a fascinating, albeit risky, venture. And here she was, explaining so much about her relationship with the Joker, with heroes, with villains, well, he wasn't quite certain how to classify the Punisher. He wasn't really either, and yet he was the same time, both.

"Just trying to be diplomatic. There are people like Superman, Spider-Man, Iron Man, Batman, people who don't use 'man' in their name, like Wonder Wo, oh, forget that, but Captain Marvel, Thor, Green Lantern, and then there are those like the Joker, yourself, Green Goblin, Mandarin, which really is an insensitive name. I wonder how his name plays in China? Is he a hero, or do they feel he's appropriating their culture?"


Harley Quinn has posed:
Sitting there and listening, Harley Quinn nods her head a few times, adn as you start to list off names, she nods some more, saying "Uh huh." And "Mmm hmmm." And then you ask a question and she looks up, "Do you ever wonder why ya chose yellow fer yer lightnin' bult? It ain't the most complimentary color fer red. A nice purple though, that'd go over swell." And she looks over Barry, "I ain't too sure about all them names you gave but some of them sound pretty interestin'."

A bit of a qustioning tone comes next, "I'm thinkin' of goin' as Batgirl or Wonder Woman fer Christmans. Which one would you say is better fer handin' out presents?"

Flash has posed:
With the pressure plates deactivated, and the danger passed, the Flash and Harley Quinn talk long into the night, going from costume colours, to how the Friends group were objectively terrible, to the commercialisation of the holidays, to Nietzsche, Disney's live-action remakes, the Penguin's Iceberg Lounge, and finally, the Flash gave Harley a card for Doc Samson. He was a clinical psychologist, and a metahuman in his own right. When she was ready, she could get some help. And if she came at him, well, the man was gamma irradiated. If anyone could deal with what Harley might throw at him, it was Doc Samson. That's the thing, recovery was not an immediate step. He could have caught her, sent her to Arkham, and she'd be right back there. But hopefully, a nice long friendly chat, and a supportive mindset, might have seen some small amount of progress made tonight.