9327/But you're not Batman

But you're not Batman
Date of Scene:	26 September 2019
Location:	Arkham Asylum, The Narrows
Synopsis:	Deadpool puts on a puppet show for Harley, among other things, including a rescue.
Cast of Characters:	Deadpool, Harley Quinn

---

Deadpool has posed:
    The cell is bleak. Of course it's bleak, it's an Asylum. Crazy people get bleak walls where they can slowly go MORE crazy. The walls here in this cell are sort of a muddled gray. Maybe they got repainted after someone tried to mush their face on the walls. Hard to really know.

The cell is boring. There's the usual BORING things and the BORING guards. The boring toilet and the boring cot and the....

---BINK!---

The not at all boring Mercenary that just teleported into the center of the cell!

"Holy fuck on burned toast, this place is depressing," Wade says in horror of Harley's cell from where he materialized in the center of the room. He spins around, taking it in, one hand up to scratch the back and side of his hood. "I did not bring nearly enough spraypaint to fix this nightmare. No sir."

Harley Quinn has posed:
Harleen Quinzel is used to the walls. It's been her home for about a month this time. She'd been in and out of this place so often, they really should just have a cell put aside for her.

She is sprawled sideways on the bed, her feet up on the wall, her head hanging down off the side of the cot. It was covered in a gray, ratty blanket that blended in well with the gray walls. As did the light blue but not quite gray pair of pansts and long sleeved button up shirt she was wearing. Her blonde hair was up in a pair of ponytails to either side of her head. In her hands was a little jester doll decked out in blue and red, the only spots of color the place.

"Puddin'?" Hearing the voice made her stop her play, head tilting back further to observe the upside down figure in the middle of her cell. The color scheme was all wrong.

"Yer tellin' me? I asked 'em t'paint it and they say it's juuust fine. I think someone took one too many hits from the snake." The Aladdin reference likely won't make sense to most people but it makes sense in her psyche. "Whatcha doin' here?"

Deadpool has posed:
"I did /not/ bring pudding. I do not even have /Jello/. I might have some kool-aid packages. Do you have sugar? Otherwise it's going to be more of a hair-dye than anything else," Deadpool prattles back. He has a duffel-bag with him over one forearm, and he dumps it to the floor with zero finesse. The hollow sound from inside the bag proves that he does, actually, have spray paint cans, though what else is in there may be entirely a mystery. Aside from that there is, in fact, no pudding.

"One too many hits WITH THE SNEK," Deadpool overreacts, leaping towards the edge of the bed, and lifts one hand up over the edge of it. "Snake snake," says the 'hand puppet' gloved shape (or rather, the puppeteer that just fell almost on his face in his dive to get behind the bed for this puppet show) that emerges for Harley's benefit. It bonks it's 'face' against the bed.

Bonk bonk bonk!

Harley Quinn has posed:
As he begins speaking her language, Harley rolls her legs over to the side and her body up onto the bed, sitting upright to watch the duffle being dumped on the floor. No pudding. No Puddin either. Not that the duffle had looked big enugh for the latter but she always could have hope.

As the 'snake' emerges as the merc with a mouth disappears--other than his boots sticking out that other end over there--Harley bursts into delighed laughter and claps her hands. "Can you do shadow puppets too?" she asks with childish glee as she tucks her feet up under her bottom, kneeling in the center of the bed to watch the 'show'.

Deadpool has posed:
"You need but only ask, mademoiselle," Deadpool says, dropping his hand, and rolling to his back. "Here. Hold this." A small flashlight gets pitched up from where Deadpool is now laying on his back behind her cot, tossed towards her. He turns his hands up and out.

Butterfly!

Duckie!

Duckie eating a Butterfly!

Duckie shitting a horse!

Horse with big dick!

Horse exploding!

"THE END. By Deadpool."

Thumbs up!

Deadpool sits up, both forearms on the edge of the bed, and sets his chin on the backs of his crossed hands. "I'm Deadpool. Hi. I'm looking for a Mrs...." He pauses, and then holds a finger in a 'one second' motion, and begins to hunt through his various pouches.

There's the package of Kool-Aid (cherry), a bottle of mystery medication, a key-chain of a Neopet (They still exist!), two losanges, an open condom, and a locker key, all of which ends up on the bed while he looks.

Harley Quinn has posed:
"Oh wow!" She coos in delight as the shadows begin to dance on the wall, holding the flashlight though it is a bit shaky because Harley keeps trying to clap her hands. With the big finale, she tosses the flashlight onto the bed, still lit, and applauds loudly. "Wooohoo! Yes! You're the best! Well, second best. But I ain't judgin'."

As he brings himself up into sight again, leaning on the edge of the bed, she is smiling in obvious delight. Until he says he is looking for a Mrs.

"Slow down there, buddy. Ah ain't ready t'walk down the aisle yet. Ain't no ring, ain't ding, y'know what I mean?" she says with one eye squinted up tight and the other peering at him like he's up to something now.

Which is all forgotten when he empties things onto the bad. What does she go for? The Neopet, reaching out and trying to grab it to see if he's let it die yet. Hers always died.

Deadpool has posed:
It is not dead, by some miracle. It's starving, of course. That is the perpetual state of all Neopets. Starving, until you feed them weird omelettes or some shit.

"Uhh. Okay, well, I remember distinctly that I'm rescuing a 'Missus', so I am not in the right cell, potentially," Deadpool decides, tapping his masked chin with a finger, and standing up. He looks around, as if there was much else to look at. "Is this cell number twelve?" Deadpool asks, and then looks at her.

"I am not so insecure with my manhood to not ask for directions," he informs her in a loud mock-whisper. "I am insecure with my manhood in such a way as to cause OTHER problems, but not specifically that one."

Harley Quinn has posed:
Sticking her tongue out the side of her mouth, Harley is trying to save the poor starving Neopet. Until he says he is in the wrong cell. That snaps her atention back up to him.

"How should I know? The numbers on the outside." she sounds a little apologetic that she doesn't know. "But Ah need t' get out of here. Been a month. It's enough to drive someone crazy!" Because she isn't? Yeah that's the ticket.

Mention of his insecurities brings another one of those super bright smiles. "I can help! I'm a psychiatrist! You should take me with you and we'll talk about your feelings and your childhood and I you can make shadow puppets and I can feed Biffy." The Neopet now has a name. "While we eat pudding and drink Kool-Aid. They do like to serve pudding in here. It's the only good part of the day."

Deadpool has posed:
"It is..." Deadpool checks his Hello Kitty watch. "Almost taco tuesday. So I'd rather go with tacos on taco tuesday, instead of pudding. There is no day of P for Pudding. I suppose it could be every day, if you think of it that way. But it should still be post-taco," explains Deadpool, moving his hands to indicate the separation, vertically, of how the order of things should go.

"Numbers on te outside. Oh." Deadpool approaches the front plastic wall. Hmm. He returns to his duffel, extracts a small dental mirror, and then goes to the wall, inserting the mirror through the little air-hole and attempts to angle it to see down the hallway in a very super-spy fashion.

Harley, meanwhile, gets a lot of Deadpool-ass to view. It's not bad, he's muscular. Could be worse. He didn't have tacos YET.

Harley Quinn has posed:
"There's always time for pudding." Harley points out as she watches him go to the front of her cell and try to figure out what number it is. She tucks the Neopet away in her pocket and follows him.

As she gets that ass view, Harley is one to appreciate it which she does with a low whistle. "Nice mirror. Where'd you get it?" Yeah, it was the mirror she was approving of.

"You know what the worst thing about bein' in here is? They don't give us tacos. Tuesday or any other day." She pouts and it is like her ponytails even droop when she makes that expression. "Is that any way t' treat us? We're already sick! It's cruel and unusual, I'm tellin' ya!"

Deadpool has posed:
"This is cell number six," Deadpool determines, sitting back on his heels, and rotates to look up at her. He lifts the mirror, laying it across both palms, and raises it to her like he is bestowing upon her the sword Excalibur from the lake.

"One may never truly know," Wade says in a deep, mysterious tone of voice, extending upon her the favor of the plastic dental mirror.

"Okay, I'll take you instead. You seem more funzies, anyway. Did you get a name? I didn't read that off the tiny-itty-bitty chart on the door there," Deadpool says, upbeat. And still squatted in front of her.

Harley Quinn has posed:
A little noise that sounds like "Squee!" came out of Harley. It wasn't loud or particularly impressive but it was a sound of her joy like none other. It was usually reserved for when Mistah J did something nice. Now, it was given to Deadpool as he gave her that mirror.

She immediately held it out in up as she stuck a finger in the left corner of her mouth and pulled it down. Then she tried to hold the itty bitty mirror where she could see her own teeth. "Do I have spinach in my teeth?" she somehow got out with her mouth all yanked out of whack.

Then another squee as he said he'd take her with him, a little dance where she stood and a clap of her hands. The mirror had disappeared somewhere. Likely keeping the Neopet company. "Harley. Harley Quinn. Pleased t'meetcha!" She offered her hand out in front of her. Not the one she'd had stuck in her mouth thankfully.

Deadpool has posed:
"Yes," Deadpool replies immeidately of the spinach question. He doesn't know, but it's always best to agree with things when he have no idea. That's logical. He pops up to his feet, and claps too when she does. Wow she's fun.

"Harley it is! Vroom vroom," Deadpool entones, and then accepts her hand with his. Handshake, glove to palm. "I said I was Deadpool. I am, fortunately, still Deadpool," Deadpool says. "Do you wanna walk out, or teleport? How lazy are we feeling?" Deadpool asks, looking around the cell a little more, and then settling both hands on the guns that are on his thighs. He's loaded with weapons, easily enough to take on a prison, perhaps. As Harley probably has no idea that this is how he normally dresses. He might be some goodlooking Nightwing-character under it all.

"I was considering saying I'm Batman but I don't have the voice or costume or schtick or /any/ of it, honesty."

Harley Quinn has posed:
"Oh you ain't Batsy. He's got /no/ sense of humor," Harley points out with a roll of her eyes. Not out of her head thankfully. That would be messy and inconvenient. "Just a big stick in the mud with delusions of I'm better than you." That was a little mixed up and all over the place but her dislike of the Batman is made quite obvious.

"I wouldn't mind walkin't I never teleported before. Is that how you got in here?" She looked around suddenly, moving around the room with her arms extended and waving them around as she looked for something. She even stopped and looked under the bed. Maybe she thought there was a contraption for the teleportation. Then it sank as she looked at him with wide eyes. "You have a spaceship?!" She grabbed the blanket on the bed, pulling up the corners to make a little sack with his items that were still on the bed inside it.

"Well Beam Me Up, Scotty!" And with that she was leaping his direction, prepared to get out of this place.

Deadpool has posed:
"Alpha Flight does. I did not bring my Alpha Flight space equipment, as this is mostly /not/ in outer space," Deadpool confides in her, somewhat gently. He's sad to break her heart but really, it is not another planet, and his current insanity isn't going to spike THAT far out of the normal scope of things that aren't insane.

Deadpool bends to pick up the duffel bag, throws it over his shoulder, and wraps one arm around her middle, tapping his teleporter with his other hand.

"BOOP," Deadpool says loudly, as the device activates. The world turns inside out, and returns to current reference... in the yard outside of the main building of Arkham. That means there's alarms. "Oopsie!" Deadpool says, and immediately sprints towards the fence, pulling a gun from his thigh. The patrol nearby is gunned down rather abruptly, with efficient bullet use-- two guards lined up, and Deadpool got two thighs with one shot.... the next shot for the other guy's shoulder.

"Deadpool to Enterprise, away team has encountered hostiles. Phasers set to bullets."

Harley Quinn has posed:
"I don't think you did that right," Harley says as they appear right where they are in the line of sight for cameras, motions sensors and the big spotlight over there that fires on when the alarms go off. It highlights their location perfectly as cries go up from guards that are not close to them. The pounding of boots on concrete rapidly approaching shows that's going to change soon.

Reaching into the blanket she's carrying, Harley sweeps her arm around inside as she runs for the fence. "C'mon c'mon. I know you're in there. A-ha!"

Out comes the little jester doll she'd been playing with. "It was nice knowin' ya, Chancy, but a gal's gotta do what a gal's gotta do."

She yanked the head off the doll, tossing it aside on the ground with a tiny tinkle of bells on it's jester cap. Then she shoved a hand into the body of the doll. A moment later, she pulled out a little metal ring as she threw the doll as hard as she could against the fence about twenty feet away. "Big Bada Boom!"

That's the only warning there will be before the grenade that was inside the doll goes off.

Deadpool has posed:
Deadpool didn't /stop/, he ran straight at the fence, chasing down the grenade-doll as if he might race it to the fence. That means he's pretty close to it when it goes off.

"Ah! My eyebrows!" Deadpool says, taking the shrapnel with a stumble and roll, rolling through the hole in the fence that the explosion created. He holds up on the other side of the fence, throwing a hand through the exploded hole back for her, intending to help pull her through with a great old heave-ho.

Bullets kick up dirt around them as the watchtower reacts, and Deadpool physically stands up, a big physical blocker with his size compared to Harley, to get between her and the shooter. "Serpentine, Serpentine!" Deadpool urges, as he's shot in the back of a bicep.

Harley Quinn has posed:
As he takes the explosion, Harley winces visibly but she is running full tilt for the fence line now. He will get a momentary glimpse of her agility sa she leaps through that hole, catching his hand on the way through and landing right next to him. She tugs at him a second then he is standing, playing physical shield as the bullets are fired their direction.

"Serpen-who?" Harley asks at a yell as she takes off running, doing her best ziggity-zaggedy which is what he had wanted in the first place. She's nimble and fast so that's a plus.

Deadpool has posed:
"Yes that!" Deadpool agrees. His hand is held, and he's being dragged zig-zaggy, so this is an interesting show of his own agility as he half-bounces after her, twisting backwards to return fire with the gun in his other hand. The duffel bag is causing his aim to bounce and flux, with the weight pulling his arm down with each step, but hey, his shots are pretty accurate overall, there will be, at the very least, some folks ducking for cover instead of firing at them.

Until Deadpool smartens up, and puts the gun into a holster and tries to hit his teleporter again. With a loud hissing noise, it does work -- sort of.

They're suddenly in a parking lot of a 7-11. "...I wanted a slurpee," Deadpool admits, as the whole running thing no longer seems so relevant. "Cherry, I think. Or raspberry? Raspberry. Cherry-Raspberry."

Harley Quinn has posed:
Why is she running across a parking lot? Harley skids to a stop, looking around her in complete confusion for a moment the looking back at him again. "Slurpee? But you got kablooeyed!" It's a technical term for having his face blasted with shrapnel from a grenade at close range.

"Maybe you should lie down or somethin'? I can't call for an ambulance cause they'll bring the cops." She frets, knotting at that blanket she is still holding in her hand. Thenshe notices the hole in it with the red spot. "It's bleeding! Oh wait, that's the Kool-Aid. Phew."

When she looks back at him, she's frowning as though there was something important she was trying to remember that she just had said. What comes out is. "I want a Coke and Cherry!"

Deadpool has posed:
"There was some kablooey," Deadpool agrees, and then pats himself down with both hands, all over his front. He picks some fence out of his left thigh, then bends and adds the piece to the contents of his duffel bag. "No sense being a criminal AND a litterbug all in the same evening," Deadpool comments tritely. He then twists his arm to inspect his bicep, which has a big bloody spot: not that it shows much on his red and black costume.

"Yeah, got my wing clipped. It'll work itself out. Cherry COLA?!" Distraction obtained. "Raspberry COLA for me," Deadpool says, snaring the duffel again, and strutting his way towards the 7-11.