Owner	Pose
Harley Quinn	Music for the scene: https://youtu.be/QUpuAvQQrC0 From off in the distance there's a sound. It starts low. And it begins to climb, it is some kind of classical music that's coming from the streets. It starts to surround this area of East Harlem, all coming in from the west. Standing on a chariot type throne thing, is a woman who needs no introduction. It is Harley Quinn, without a doubt. She's waving her arms about to do conducting to... an army of toys. There are remote controlled cars, there are monkeys with cymbals, there are teddy bears being carried by henchmen, and worst of all... there's a large dinosaur balloon being paraded it's way into East Harlem. All over there are Henchmen who are controlling various groups of these toy soldiers. For those with the senses to notice specifics about these things. The Remote Controlled cars are bombs, the monkeys are filled with poisonous gas, and the dinosaur balloon? It's filled with candy. BUT The Candy is filled with razor blades. The army of toys is beginning to flood into this area of East Harlem. Quite literally. And Harley's leading the charge for whatever mass existential threat she's trying to create at this moment in time.
El Diablo	Chato Santana's spent months operating in Manhattan and Brooklyn, in the Spanish and African quarters of the city. The Crips, Kings, and Aztecas are under his sway, after a number of small confrontations, as well as some legendary movements against the Mafia and the police to gain status among those who register confidence as respect, needing a leader who has a power greater than the God of these priories and chapels to win. God is in the hands of the state, that's the Christian ethic taught to a man in poverty, a man in a slum, a man with a needle in his arm and a starving kid beside his bed. Chato Santana is El Diablo, he's the Devil, come here from the southern lands of Mexico to return valor and honesty, at the cost of all of Gringo society and its hypocrisy between rich and poor, power and obedience. The neighborhoods in El Barrio are arrayed with lookouts on steps, playing radios and smoking cigarettes, men in bars drinking Budweisers with shotguns under the counters for the barkeep to grab, and men in stash houses full of marijuana and cocaine armed with choppers, AK-47s and Uzis and shotguns. As the army of toys comes marching in, Chato Santana hears the shouts from his command post, the tallest building on a corner, white paint over a sharp edge. He rouses from bed, alongside his lady, in his tank top and jeans, an empty beer with a dead cigarette in it knocked over on the floor to stink as he climbs to his feet. He looks out the window, scowling and furrowing his brow, as he puts on his bowling jacket. As the lookouts hustle into the buildings and the bartenders pull out their guns, the patrons of the taverns arming themselves with baseball bats, the stash houses go to high alert and begin loading up their assault weapons. El Diablo is seen atop his building at the corner, watching the toys below go by, flaming up in a rush of white hot fire and heat.
Poison Ivy	Dr. Pamela Isley had turned over a new leaf, so to speak. Gone good. Or so that's what it said on the tin. But just because she was 'good' - that didn't mean she'd have to help. That didn't mean she had to help when she heard - from a little bird, really - about the rampage. A rampage like this was bound to leave a few bodies behind. At least, that was Ivy's fondest hope. It wasn't near Harley, really, nor too deeply into the well-watched neighborhood of El Barrio. Ivy tended to leave an impression, after all. She had managed to find a rooftop to sun upon, and cause someone's well-meaning rooftop garden to blossom extensively into a minor grove of sorts, the vines growing into the roof and cracking the material of the same. It'd probably rain inside the next time weather came, and Ivy wasn't certain she cared overmuch. The sheer sound would draw the attention, and a smile tucks up one corner of her dark green lips. And she rises to a stand, a vine which blossomed pure white flowers sprouting from the garden-turned-grove, and wrapping around her arm. "Say what you wish about Harley," Ivy says to herself. "But she certainly keeps things from being boring." She would watch for a few - out of the way of errant bullets, perhaps. Before descending from her rooftop, carried by the plants that she could find in this barren cityscape. But she was just watching, for now.
Punisher	"I wish I could say I was surprised, Micro, but with that delusional bitch anythings possible." Punisher grouses to his partner over his transceiver. He's been sitting up his sniper nest for the last few minutes, having heard about this scene from the police scanner. He's a good two blocks away from the whole mess to give himself some wiggle room. With an M24 and a custom M4A1 with M203 grenade launcher all ready, he already has all the ranges pre-defined for his grenades, though he was looking through a set of electronic binoculars at the toy army. "I swear the Bat is more delusional than her at this point." Then the Poison Ivy grove sprouts out of nowhere, and Punisher looks in that direction, "What the fuck?" "Frank, I gave up trying to make sense of any of the Gotham Crazies years ago." Microchip replies having seen the grove over the binocular link, "Just get the flamethrower and torch it later. I have the drone flying in that direction and will let you know what I find." Punisher grunts in acknowledgement before he places the binoculars on his gear web, his trenchcoat slightly ajar from the movement, showing he was fully kitted out for this one... and he pulls a magazine for his M24, slapping it into place before he brings up the bipod. Aim... *Fwip* A silenced round arcs through the air as he begins to fire headshots of 7.64 at the Harley Goons controlling the toy army, one at a time.
Mon-El	Lar has seen Harley Quinn before. She was enough to at least creep normal people out, in most situations. But last time, although she had told a weird and somewhat suspicious-sounding story, she hadn't really done anything that threatened anyone's life. At least not that he saw.     But now? Now she definitely is. So he can't say he's exactly surprised by it, given her previous odd and disconcerting behavior. He had been patrolling the skies above Manhattan in general, when he heard the music and came to investigate. And he definitely doesn't like what he's seeing in there. Especially the bombs and gas. He takes note of the gangs mobilizing, and the...weird plant lady. But the toy parade is the most immediate threat at the moment. He -was- going to try to reason with Harley, that is, until someone started headshotting people.     Ugh, some people and what they -think- are 'heroics'! They're just as delusional as the crazy lady, honestly.     Immediately he, he starts zipping about, trying to block the bullets that are being fired, all the while trying to see if he can find a way to disarm the explosives quickly without setting them off...
Harley Quinn	The people of the streets are getting ready for an invasion. Well, that's good, because it really seems like it. Was Harley here to take their money? Was she here to take their drugs? It's pretty unknown. There's a conductor's stick in her hand, and she's moving it back and forth and she's turning pages of a music book... but the 1812 overture that's playing is just coming out of a loudspeaker on her throne. As Harley Quinn is moved along the street the members of Joker's gang she has with her are off to the sides, keeping mostly out of view, hustling along like creepy punk clowns. It's Harley all the time, front and center, and she's getting more and more into the conducting, the exaggerated movements getting more elaborate and wild as she goes. The famous part of the song starts to show up about minute 4 in this slow arrival. At each accentuated sound, at this point, she's flinging her arm... lashing out to the right, then the left. And remote controlled cars go zooming off. As they do, little red lights on them start to blink with audible beep beep beep sounds that are rapidly picking up. "This is gonna be a really good show!" Harley loudly comments mostly to herself. And if those remote controlled cars aren't stopped, they are going to start exploding - mostly with white phosphorous, you know, burny burn type bombs instead of explodey boom booms. And those monkeys are still moving along, they are wind-up toys though, so where they stop nobody knows. The Balloon floating above still ominously looms but it is beginning to fill up and expand, getting bigger and bigger as if it will pop soon enough.
El Diablo	El Diablo's head swerves to the side as he shifts back on his left, seeing Mon-El come swooping in. That will be a problem, but not yet. He has some pressing matters, and that's inspiring the people of this neighborhood. What is righteous is just, and justice comes not from mercy, but from measure. Measure is only mercy when applied as lethal grace. There are shouts, throughout the neighborhood, as gangsters file out of stash houses with high grade automatic weapons, the people on the streets rapidly climbing into their housing as taverns empty and working class joes with baseball bats come out, slapping bats in their hands and marching towards the toy army, the men with the automatic weapons and shotguns taking up ranks in the street. They have no idea what they're up against, but they have a secret weapon. A fireball blazes out of the sky at the balloon dinosaur from atop the corner building, hurled by El Diablo. THIS IS NOT YOUR PLACE! comes a demonic roar from Chato, his voice tremoring with deep rumbles out of Aztlan. GO BACK!
Poison Ivy	And Ivy lands upon terra firma - or what would be terra firma if it wasn't covered in the bones of a concrete city, the vine withering and breaking as it loses the connection to the brief bit of soil upon that rooftop garden. Only to be rejuvenated as Ivy picks up the root end of it, letting it wrap around her like a serpent. Clothes made of leaves. Boots made of leaves, lush and vibrantly green where they touch the green-hued woman's own body. Bringing up her hands to brush backwards through her hair, she looses her crimson curls from the french braid that they were in, daises and small bits of... you know it... ivy, blossoming in her hair in the wake of her brushing hand. A sly smile spreads across her lips. During her descent, when Frank had looked to her, her green eyes - shining with an internal luminescence, had lingered on his. But now that she was earthbound, there was no such pleasantness. Stepping fearlessly towards the mouth of the alleyway, Ivy pauses, her eyes widening as that fire lights up the alley in the brief second of its passing. And that smug look vanishes into a frown. "Wonderful. Heroes," she murmurs to herself. "Can't just let people have their fun," she says. Tone was decidedly icy now. And she was moving through the alleyways, avoiding the all out war on the streets there. She was aiming to approach the man she had seen earlier, in his sniper nest, going through the back ways. No need to get shot, after all.
Punisher	When Punisher realizes his rounds aren't reaching their destinations (because let's face it, Former Scout Snipers of Punisher's league don't miss), his eye moves away from the scope briefly... only to catch Mon-El zipping about. "What the fuck are /they/ doing here? I thought they were space assholes." Punisher grates quietly over the transceiver. "Just a moment Frank..." The drone above the streets turns it's camera on the toy army and Mon-El... and slow down the feed to get a positive I on Mon-El. "That's Lar Gand. Don't have much on him, other than he's one of those Legionaires." Micro informs Frank, "Without some specialized equipment, he's out of your league Frank, I'd suggest relocating the nest." Punisher doesn't argue, picking up both weapons and heading for a window inside... only to fire again, this time he's firing High Explosive grenades from his M203 at the toy cars to make them explode before they can do any serious damage to bystanders. He's intentionally not stopping the cars going for confirmed Chato gangsters. They'll either hit, or Mon-El will keep them busy himself. Either way, a win for him.
Mon-El	Lar keeps blocking or catching the bullets until they stop when Punisher decides to get up and move. But now the toy cars with the bombs in them are driving off and beeping which definitely means they're going to blow soon. He can't have that! So off he flies again as fast as he can without destroying buildings with sonic booms, aiming to grab as many as he can and throw them so hard and so high they'll either explode long before they come back down, or simply...go into orbit and become space junk.     Some of them blow up before he can reach them, which he mutters angrily at because it was risky! Someone in the street could have gotten hurt! Ivy still hasn't really put anyone in danger...yet. So she is left alone for the time being.
Harley Quinn	There's fire in the sky. The poor dinosaur is burning away at quick speeds from the fireball that was lobbed at it. It ignites and burns, the burning ripples around the form of the dinosaur super quickly as if the whole thing was made from some non-child safe material. The candy begins to rain down, some of it liquified but much of it still intact as taffy, gum, candy bars, anything that requires chewing, falls upon the populace of East Harlem. Random toy cars are exploding, that's all Harley Quinn notices. Great! It's working. Though they aren't all exploding on buildings, and instead burn some of the street. Though there's a big voice happening, and it sounds like an evil voice. Turning she looks around, squints, looks up. "Who're you? Mister Flamey Pants? This is My Place too ya weirdo McDeirdo." Harley takes a baseball, tosses it up in the air and then catches it on it's way down. "Batters up!" This time she tosses it up in the air, and grabs her rather large, heavy mallet, and hits it with her superhuman strength and speed, not on par with Lar, but she's not even really noticed -that- guy yet since her back is turned to his latest antics. The grenade sails through the air, headed straight toward Chato Santana, as it approaches it too has one of those little red lights blinking on it. The cars begin to rush forward, a high pitched whine in the air as a horde of them start zooming off toward gangsters as their targets. If they get close enough they'll detonate, but the monkeys march on. And on. And on. Clinging their Cymbals. Giving up conducting, the 1812 Overture continues to play and Harley jumps off the throne, and starts springing into action, bolting forward toward the oncoming gun wielders shortly behind her toy cars. "Everybody moooooooove!"
El Diablo	Chato Santana sees the baseball sail at him, and extends his splayed fingertips, a huge rush of flame spreading out from his fingers and intercepting the grenade ball, his eyes black with fury. Licks of flame rise around his Converse Chuck Taylors, rushing up and around him, curling like roots around him and exploding forth with angelic wings and a halo of black nothing, soot and ash and swirling embers. Gangsters with bats are blown to cinders by the toy cars that make it to them, the phosphorous going off and burning them with screams and cries, their bludgeons insufficient to deal with the hot, white brimstone. The ranks are cowed, and spread to either side of the street, amid the cars abandoned after the altercation broke out on the road and sidewalks. The more heavily armed stash house guards, meanwhile, come advancing down the block with AK-47s, Uzis, and their shotguns, hardcore original gangsters and ex-Bandito bartenders marching in neat order to open fire on Harley and her toys and thugs, blasting in poorly drilled by organically shaped movement around the cars and trash cans and trees and lamplights, moving around in a slow wave to meet the Joker's thugs.
Poison Ivy	Now, 'surprising' someone of the Punisher's level was a quick way to get a bullet between the eyes. And Poison Ivy didn't trust her charms would be enough to hold Castle back, should that situation happen. While Pamela didn't know that the man was the Punisher, well. She knew he had brought a sniper rifle to the strangest street brawl. Her money was on Deadshot, actually. Still. She caresses the inside of a stairwell, approaching Frank's little nest, her voice echoing through the rundown building. "Is that grenades I hear?" she calls out, keeping her distance from the nest. "What sort of man brings a sniper rifle and grenades to a fight like this?" A pause, and the edge of her lips lift up in a wider smile. "Unless they're trying to kill as many people as possible," she says. "A style I appreciate. I think we should talk." She was hanging back, however, her vines twisting around herself. One had sprouted a mandible, and fangs at this point, laying across her shoulder like the head of a serpent.
Punisher	When the voice comes from the inside of the building, Punisher silently takes the M4A1, shoulders it, and aims for the door to his room, his reflexes making the action take just under a second. "Got someone new here Micro. Stand by..." Punisher slowly moves to the doorway, taking a corner periscope from his gear web with a free hand and looking around both corners. Fortunately for Mon-El, that means no more ordinance from Punisher. Unfortunately for Mon-El... Punisher might be collapsing the building in a fight with Ivy soon.
Mon-El	Lar continues trying to get rid of as many of those toy car bombs as possible, chucking them into at least the upper atmosphere and/or destroying them in the air with thermal vision. He also starts trying to get rid of the gas-filled toy monkeys as well, in the same manner. He even does his best to save some of Chato's people from the bombs, pulling them away or getting between them and the explosions. But now a bunch of gangsters are starting a war with Harley, and people are getting killed. That is -definitely not- how you deal with an army of explosive and gas-ridden toys!     As soon as he has either dealt with all of the danger toys or they've already blown up, he tries to confront Harley, landing in front of her. "Harley, stop this! What exactly are you trying to accomplish, here??"
Harley Quinn	Toys are being obliterated from various people and for various reasons. Cars are exploding prematurely, and sometimes right on target. Joker goons are taking up cover as best they can but there's a sniper AND a gang of people plus a fire demon god coming their way. Good news, they are already crazy so they press on! Harley Quinn, on the other hand, is charging forward, and as guns start to be brought to bare, aimed, and shot in her direction she is jumping to the side, rolling, bouncing about, spinning, and doing other acrobatics without precise motions but incredibly effective. She even avoids some gunshots when she drops her mallet and tips over to pick it back up, "Like Indiana's hat. Whew." And then she's about to charge forward again when she's stopped by Mon-El. The monkeys still march on but most of the Remote Controlled cars are probably taken out from The Punisher, Mon-El and gangsters being cooked alive. "Oh, hey there fella. What was it? Ya look so familiar. Paul? Johnny? Snookems?" She squints really hard, "Ohhhh, Gar. Right. How ya doin'? Oh, me? I ain't up ta much, jus' had a whole bunch of toys layin' around and I was thinkin'. What to do on a Saturday evenin'? So, I went to PitSnake, he's the..." She looks over her shoulder to see a blood splattered Joker goon with spiked green hair, "That fella, jus' imagine him without the hole in his head. An' I'm like, wha'cha got fer me? And he's like, I got this place in Harlem, East Side, or somethin', so that goes back an' forth fer a bit... then his sister, Kibble shows up, an' they are like... smoochin', an' I'm like, gross, ya know? Cause she was still chewin' gum." A pause, "What were ya askin' again?"
El Diablo	Chato walks forward, wreathed in angry flames of violent shade and bright canopy lit night, before stepping off the roof and falling, three stores, onto a car with his arms spreading. He slams into the roof of the car with a violent, hard pound, the car shattering as glass goes flying and the roof caves in, before it begins to roast and burn with him on it, knee down and fists before him. Chato Santana rises, slowly and full of blackened, hatred fueled vigor and utmost rage. His veins boil, as if they're pounding to break out of his skin, as he falls off the car and begins walking through Harley's festivities, to get to Harley Quinn and Mon-El, while farther down the street his gangsters bear down on the carnival. The car behind Chato Santana explodes, launched up into the air by the force of the boom, Chato disappearing into a black silhouette wreathed in a white nimbus of twilight sun.
Poison Ivy	No doubt the periscope sees the dangling head of the carnivorous plant in the hallway. With a twist of its 'neck', it glances down the way towards the glint of that corner periscope. "You're not shy, are you?" Ivy asks, a faint flutter of anxiety filling her heart and features. She was disconnected from her grove. The earth in this place. And it bothered her. A step back down the stair, that vine-creature remaining extended forward. Senses reach out. Moss. Dirt. Mold. Houseplants, decaying, dying. Difficult to work with. Next time, remind her to bring a suitcase full of seedlings and soil, hmm?
Punisher	"Pretty sure that's Poison Ivy here." Punisher whispers, before he walks out into the hallway, his carbine shouldered as he watches the plants, "What do you want?" Punisher grates out, ready to shoot the plants at any sudden movements.
Mon-El	Lar rolls his eyes at Harley. Ugh, he knew she was off her rocker. "What the hell are you trying to accomplish?!" he repeats as she asks him what he wanted to know again. "Starting a war in the streets? Because that's what you just did."     And now that big demon looking guy is heading their way, after he just blew up a car spectacularly. They do like their dramatic entrances, don't they? "You! You're the one in charge of all those mobsters, aren't you? Call them off!"
Harley Quinn	The flaming man finally comes down to the battle and lands, in a way that Selene would be exceptionally proud of, but Harley is wincing a little as she covers up her face some with her gloved hands and armored jacket, albeit fashionable as well. And she grimaces, "Jeeez, talk about collateral damage. I bet the owner of -that- car is gonna be real upset when he finds out his insurance won't pay fer acts of demon flamey pants." A shake of her head, and she returns her attention to Mon-El. "Whoa whoa whoa, yer the one askin' me a question and now ya get all angry at me? Ain't gonna tell ya if ya keep on bein' a sourpuss. Ya gotta turn that frown upside down Gar, smile a lil', we're jus' havin' a bit of fun." She smiles big, as if to give an example, "Now, if ya don't mind, I got a group of gangsters ta beat up, some monkeys who are windin' down, an' a demon ta murder." She uses her foot to kick up her mallet and have it swing over her shoulder to get ready to leave Lar's side.
El Diablo	Stay out of this, hombre, is all that Chato Santana has to say to Mon-El, jerking his forefinger at him. He knows it's a Kryptonian, but his blood is boiling from the direct assault on his neighborhood, and Harley hasn't called off the toy monkeys yet. More importantly, she's killed some of his boys. It's war, and he will have a shank of lamb taken directly from Dr. Quinzel's thigh and cooked on a roast diabolic flame to sink his rigid sharp teeth into. Chato swings his arm back as Harley walks towards him, bullets ebbing as the gangsters continue to advance, still aggressive but not wanting to shoot the legend that's brought the neighborhood together in a short few months. There's a roar of fire as he hurls a fireball at Harley, his body aflame and black in the shadows cast by his roaring Mephistopheles.
Poison Ivy	And from inside that stairwell, Poison Ivy steps forward. Hands raised in surrender, her eyes holding that underglow of that ethereal green in the relative dimness in the abandoned building. There was no fear in her stance, in her smile, in her... no, look there. Wariness. Caution in her eyes. Bordering on fear as that skull-clad man's full form comes into vision. She'd be a foolish criminal not to have heard of the Punisher. The vine-plant retracts, and pulls around her arm, oozing around it until the carnivorous head rests against the back of her upraised hand. "You wouldn't hurt me, would you?" A long breath out, a sweet sound. "I've turned over a new leaf," she says, crimson hair cascading like a waterfall to her front. "As I'm sure you've heard," she adds. There was a humid scent in the air, like a strange jungle flower. Sweet, almost sickly so. Warning of poison. The smile comes to her lips, more confident. "And I was hoping you and I could work together, Punisher," she says. "Fight some crime in this sick, sick city," she adds, her head tilting forward, eyes never wavering from the Punisher's own. "Won't you help me, my dearest? Help me make Gotham a safer city for all of the innocents that live here?"
Punisher	"I've hurt a lot of people in my time, girl." Punisher grates out, "and 'reformed' criminals are usually bullshit." He sniffs the air briefly as he watches her, that carbine still aimed for Ivy. "What did you have in mind."
Mon-El	Lar's fists clench in anger at Harley's blithe disregard for the safety and well-being of Harlem's citizens, calling it 'fun'. He pauses a moment, putting a fair amount of effort into preventing himself from just punching the woman to the moon. 'It won't help anything....probably just make it worse...' he tells himself.     Instead, he darts in front of her as she tries to walk away, attempting to grab the arm holding the mallet. "Shut down your twisted little toys and tell your goons to go home." he demands.     But then a massive fireball is coming toward them. Seriously? Sometimes, he feels like he has to everything himself. Letting go of Harley, he flies straight at the thing and inhales sharply before blowing a strong gust of freezing air at it in an attempt to put out the flames. And if that doesn't work, he'll just let it hit him so that can absorb the damage and prevent people from getting fried crispy. "Actually, -no-." he answers to Chato's demands for him to stay out of this.
Harley Quinn	There's a fireball?! What?! Harley's eyes get big and show the reflection of the big fireball being hurled her way. When Mon-El lets her go, she turns and runs, doing a cool hood slide on a nearby car to get over it and use it as cover. While she's sliding she turns back and gives a wink to Chato with a finger gun trigger pull, before slipping off the other side and straight onto her bottom. "Ow, holy mackreal avengers, that ain't how it works in the movies." Comes from behind the car as it would've gotten crispified along with likely her doom. And then, the monkeys come to a halt. Gas starts seeping from them, some nearby Joker goons start laughing, and chuckling, and laughing some more, but there's no laughing to death or super fast laughing. Some people in nearby buildings soon, are starting to laugh. Mon-El's super senses can easily pick out normal Nitrous Oxide, otherwise known as Laughing Gas is sent out into the neighborhood at large. "I just realied I ain't never answered yer question Gar. I was bringin' a bit of laughter ta the neighborhood! That's what Kibble and PitSnake figured we should do. An' I honor the requests of my goons, even if they've got gross kissin' habits." At this point she's turned, leaning elbows on the car.
El Diablo	The freezing gust of wind snuffs out the fireball, a whipporwhirl of wind spinning about upwards with a blackened stench of asphalt and pavement dust carried with it in an updraft. Chato Santana takes pause, momentarily, as Harley Quinn is tossed aside and she goes into hiding. He watches Mon-El, with cool evaluation replacing his simmering rage, his hands slowly bunching into fists. Then, an explosive burst of energy forward as he goes running at Mon-El to close the distance, leaping into the air and kicking his legs up as if he was playing street ball. He aims to mount the air before Mon-El and chuck a burst of demonic flame at him, the sulfur and brimstone palpable from the interdimensional beast possessing him. It's a sudden, fast move, that will leave the mystic flame-covered El Diablo riding Mon-El's shoulders as if the Crip was a luchador, a fireball between them as a weapon of shock.
Poison Ivy	"Has it been so long for you, Punisher?" Ivy coos, stepping nearer to the Punisher. Step by half-step, stopping if he should threaten her all the more. "That you can't tell a girl from a woman?" Lifting up her chin at that, the leaves on her outfit had fluttered a bit with that motion, the ivy curling through her red hair sprouting newer blossoms. That poisonous scent in the air grows heavy, her eyes locked upon the Punisher's. "I give you information. And you can check it out through whatever channels you have to sniff out the wickedness in this city," she says. "To see just how 'bullshit' it is, hmm?" "Although I warn you, if you end up in Gotham... the Bat might come after you," she says. "But you don't seem a man afraid to do the right thing, even if a confused Bat is in the way, would you?" Slowly. So slowly, Ivy intends to lower her arms, to reach out for Frank. To caress that tight forearm. "All of those wicked criminals out there. They're still alive, because of people like him. Like Superman. It must frustrate you. I want to help you find..." A wicked smile. "Release. Where no one can stop you."
Mon-El	Lar notices the gas seeping out of the toy monkeys that he hadn't managed to get to befpre, and he was going to go chuck the rest of them into space but instead he gets a facefull of fire from Chato. Ugh. And now the demon-thing is literally on top of him. Oh, he wants to go for a ride, now does he? The Daxamite rockets upward a short distance, moving like a speeding bullet. He attempts to grab El Diablo by the legs and throw him back down to the pavement hard, although hopefully not hard enough to kill or permanently maim. "Listen, I know you're just trying to protect your people, but this is -not- the way to go about it. Other people killing doesn't justify you killing." Yep, he's going to start on reciting that whole righteous creed that types like Superman and Batman like to cling so religiously to. The types Ivy is currently complaining about to Punisher in his nest a block or so away.     Needless to say, Harley's answer is ignored, given Lar has now drawn the aggro of a fiery demon.
Harley Quinn	No longer a target, Harley Quinn jumps up on the car she took cover from, and bows, "East Harlem, you are laughing. And that gift, I give freely to you all. But now must bid adieu." And she hops off the car and heads back down the street. She holds up a finger and sort of 'circles' it around, "Come on fellas, we gotta go give them teddy bears out." And unless there's someone there to stop her, Harley Quinn is going to make an exit with whatever few Joker goons remain after they took heavy losses. Good thing, there's always more crazies to add to the numbers, and when there isn't, they can be made. Whistling, Harley Quinn puts her hands behind her back, "Oh, wait!" And then the overture hits the cannon's and fireworks erupt from the throne she was one. Shooting off into the sky and booming with the cannon portions of the 1812 Overture. "I wanted ta be on that when they went off..." As the fireworks boom, they are quick explosions like cannons, and some small sparklers defusing as they rain down over the neighborhood's buildings. Exit stage get-outta-here.
Punisher	As Ivy comes forward, Punisher steps back. He's studied the Gotham people before, and knows how most of them work. There's no way he's letting Ivy touch him. "The Bat doesn't concern me. I'm very capable of going toe to toe with that asshole if I need to. People like him are as delusional as Daredevil." Punisher grates out. So far at least, Punisher isn't firing at her. "You want to help? We can talk." One hand moves away from the carbine, going for a burner phone on his gear web and tossing it to Ivy down the hall. "I see you do anything but go back down the hall after picking that up, and I toss a grenade at you."
El Diablo	Chato Santana grasps Mon-El's head with his flaming hand as the pair catapult upwards, gripping as the dark wizardry around them turns them into a shooting star, before he's quickly reversed around with the spin and toss. He's sent careening off of Mon-El, his legs kicking out in a cartwheel as his hand goes whipping off of Mon-El's hair and is slalomed beneath him into a churning dreidel. With a shout, he slams onto the ground, bashing in the concrete and going limp. His flames cause the pavement to smolder and bubble and boil, before they gradually die off, his gangsters meanwhile laughing hysterically in the streets of Spanish Harlem.
Poison Ivy	At Frank's motion backwards, Ivy freezes, that wariness spiking up in her features briefly, managing to bring down her smile some. Only for it to spring back up when she wasn't immeadiately filled full of bullets. He had a strong mind, indeed. Fingers flex, and that carnivous vine oozes down her body, down her side, across her belly, and down one of her legs. "If I wanted to hurt you, Punisher... I'd bring this building down atop you. Lucky for you..." she says, that wicked smile increasing. "You're far more interesting kept alive," she adds. And the vinesnake bites the burner phone, bringing it back up to Ivy's hand eventually in its slithering, before it rests against that other shoulder. Ivy tucks the phone away in the front of her leaf dress. And she backs away. Assuming she wasn't shot at, she'd be soon on her way away from this hellish barren cityscape. "See you soon," she says, bringing her hand to her lips, and blowing a kiss in her exit. By the sound of the hysterical laughter, there would soon be plenty of 'cleanup' to be had. And her pretties could use new fertilizer.
Punisher	When Ivy is out of sight... Punisher is heading for the opposite stairwell, and back up to the roof. "You'll never guess who just decided to talk to me about intel. Looks like Ivy will have to go down in priority on the list, if this checks out." Punisher grates over the transceiver as he uses the binoculars to check out... laughing gangsters? "Looks like they got dosed... and the bitch is getting away." Punisher quickly resets his M24... and aims for a headshot on Harley as she's leaving, a 7.62 bullet flying through the air towards her.
Mon-El	And the demon is down for the count. Lar watches as Chato hits the ground, not only cratering it but causing the concrete to bubble and boil. Grife. He picks up some stray pieces of piping amongst the various debris that has been created as a result of the chaos (mostly the destruction from El Diablo's dramatics) and uses them to bind the demon up as if they were twisties or something. He was about to cart the guy off to the police or possibly SHIELD, when he hears another shot going off and a bullet flying through the air, this time headed straight for Harley.     Right, here we go again. He rockets up and intercepts the bullet about halfway to its destination, catching it in midair in one fist then dropping it to the ground with a plink. He hovers there a moment, staring across the space straight at the Punisher on the roof with his M24. He then closes the distance until he's a few feet in front of the man. "I wouldn't try that again if I were you." he says, arms folded. Then he flies back off to gather up Chato.
Harley Quinn	There's a ton of wind up toy monkeys on the ground in East Harlem. Lots of candy still about with razor blades in them for all the kiddos. No more cars, and quite a few bodies. For the next 10-15 minutes there's also plenty of laughter echoing through the streets, gangsters, people in their homes, etc. Lots of it. A single bright moment in the otherwise random and horribly planned assault on East Harlem. Harley, for her measure, isn't much aware of The Punisher's shot, but she randomly decides to do a hop forward onto a crack in the sidewalk, "Step on a crack break yer mother's back!" And some of the nearby goons laugh at the antics of their leader. Turning a corner they all kind of head off into the night. Thanks to Mon-El she didn't even get nicked in the shoulder. Alls well that ends well though. The fireworks, the throne, the musical score. It was a perfect night for everyone in East Harlem, except its residents. Whatever Harley was talking about with Teddy Bears, perhaps we'll find out next time. Same Harley Time. Same Harley Channel.