Round Two: FIGHT

[glasgow_smile]

Isolation Wing, last medicine run of the night; the latest run, the fewest stops. The med cart, manned by two large male orderlies, makes its way down the hall. It pauses only at the cells of the patients who are restrained and therefore, presumably, require no armed cover or extra bodies. A cell opens, one man goes inside, the other waits in the

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[myownluck]

Someone else, to judge by the occasional unconscious or dead guard en route, has had the brilliant idea to head for the infirmary. And they've had some fun, upon arrival.

The place is in a state of disarray. Drawers and cabinets have been thrown open and supplies tossed about. Sheets and mattresses have been mussed and overturned, and now grow sodden under the sprinkler spray. No patients, at least -- or maybe they all fled. The night nurse wasn't as lucky. She lies thrown over her desk, obviously dead -- the angle of her neck might be a clue as to how, or maybe the way the left side of her face is as good as pulverised, pounded or bashed to hamburger.

There's rummaging sounds in the supply closet. Breaking glass.

[glasgow_smile]

While a trail of felled rent-a-cops isn't exactly shocking, given the circumstances, the visible traces of ransacking are a detail worth his consideration. You never know who might be in there, after all. It could be that one of these gents (or ladies, you never know) has put his hands on a firearm, somehow. Hey, it could happen.

In light of this, the heroic Mr. J clamps one of his long, chilly hands down on Harley's shoulder and ushers her toward the infirmary door-she's been leading all along, anyway, so she'd might as well continue. He gets right up close behind her, peeking just over her head. The toxic spray bottle creeps up along her other shoulder, ready for action. Shuffle, shuffle, in we go.*

Quietly, almost too quietly to be heard over the rustle and clatter, as if he's speaking only to himself: "Anybodyyy...home?" He seems partly distracted by his own movements, his own looks here and there.

* That is, of course, unless Harley decides to put up a fuss about it!

[icd10f60pt7]

The only way she'd put up a fuss is if he suddenly decided to spray her in the face with his fancy toxic bottle. Maybe even not then.

The dead night nurse does get a bit of a raised eyebrow and a face made. The disfigurement is a BIT troubling, and does make her a bit apprehensive about being the lead-in here. Not enough to say something about it, though. Shuffle forward and move ahead ten spaces!

Harley will, however, toss her soggy book on the floor. It's pretty much useless now!

[laughing_magus]

John has had time enough to catch up to the A-Team here and bring up the rear, as it were. He takes a step over one fallen staff member, only to recognize a familiar and glorious smell on him. John leans down and pats the pockets of the corpse until he finds a pack of Marlboros and a lighter.
"Cheers, mate. Now, at least, you didn't die in vain."

He lights up as they step inside, breaking their attempt at silence a bit.
"What a fucking mess."
Ok, a lot.

[myownluck]

An arm sticks out of the supply closet, pepper spray in hand and pointed vaguely in their direction.

It's followed, after John speaks up, by a certain familiar face... faces. There's a manic light in Harvey's eyes (and a bit of bloodsplatter on the glass one), and a medical bag slung over his shoulder, filled with a wide variety of... medical supply. Mostly pills and other medications. (Hey, he's got to bring Judah something.)

He shows all his teeth, on both sides, as he grins. "Nobody here but us loonies."

He is not, note, putting down the pepper spray.

[glasgow_smile]

"Wellll, well, well. What a co-inky-dink."

Harvey may be unwilling to drop his little weapon, there, but J slides free of his human shield pretty much immediately, no doubt leaving a chilly absence at her back. He blows some of the water from his lips, wipes at his eye with the meat of his thumb, pushes his dripping hair out of his face so the strands won't tickle his cheek. "Great minds, huh?"

John gets a tap on the shoulder, then, from the nozzle of the spray bottle. He flicks it twice to suggest, hey, maybe you should be moving. "Find us some keys. If you can find anything." What a mess, you guys

[icd10f60pt7]

Inwardly, Harley is no doubt weeping in some sort of manner at his absence. Yes. Outwardly, she's going to look for something she can use as a weapon while John looks for the keys.

It vaguely occurs to her to wonder what would have happened if she'd been on the other side of this escape attempt, and it does bother her. For a split moment, and then it goes. That vague bothered feeling does keep her from saying anything about speeding the hell up, though.

She'll go and see if Harvey left anything in the supply closet. A few syringes and some sedatives would be handy. Harley finds herself a couple of intubation kits and sets about extracting the laryngoscope blades. Sharp and fancy.

[laughing_magus]

John looks a little non-plussed about his current order, but makes a show of looking around vaguely for more keys. He's also interested to see if anyone else had smokes or if there are keys to anything fun to drive. He will, in fact, take every corpses key chain. Certainly raises the chance of finding said transport.

"Not t'shit all over the festivities, but I don' think we've got much time left fer playin' scavenger hunt an' celebrating a happy reunion."

[myownluck]

Harvey moves a little to the side to let Harley past him, tilting his head right back at the Joker. You're kidding, right? "She wasn't very lucky."

Speaking of which.

Harvey's eyes and his aim stay on his old pal as the coin appears between his fingers, and soars through the air. It lands, and he checks, and... clean side up. He only looks annoyed and disappointed for a moment before the pepper spray disappears into his bag. "He has a point." He fishes out a keyring of his very own, complete with a key that unmistakably belongs to an automobile. "And there's only one ambulance."

...this is an incredibly bad idea, but clean side up means he has to play nice, can't just kill them...

"We all go together, we might still have a chance."

[arkham_warden]

All of them? All together? To think, he felt almost nearly sort of bad for Harvey. More over, though, Geoffrey is hurt by the bubbly blond. E tu, Harley?

"No one is going anywhere!"
Hi guys, that's your friendly Arkham superintendent in the door. Don't let the hateful look on his face, glasses in place of contacts, or the shiny pistol in his hand confuse you. This is your superintendent on panic and disappointment.

"Drop everything and put your goddamn hands in the air!"

[icd10f60pt7]

Harley takes this time to come back out with her blades and her needles. Oddly or maybe not so oddly, she seems very pleased to see Geoffrey. She doesn't feel all that worried about their chances of getting to that ambulance. After all, there's four of them and one of him.

Still.

"Come on, can't we go out for a minute? I'll bring you back a present?" You know, because they're totally just stepping out for some smokes and beer. They'll be right BACK.

[glasgow_smile]

He's just about to say something when the furious Superintendent busts in on the scene, with his foofy hair, and his glasses and cute little gun and everything. Naturally, J must instead wheeze out a laugh. Well, isn't that just adorable.

"Wow-how. Your balls must be huge." And yet, given how he's casually stepping out of place, not even the appearance of such testicular majesty seems to be intimidating. He does give up the spray bottle, though-lifts it harmlessly to show where it is, aimed at no one, then lets it fall from his hand. Thump, slosh. Preparation under the illusion of obedience.

And then, in a rising sing-song tone, he says, "I dunno, though, I think you might be outnum-berrred..." Goad the other side, amuse your own. Why not, right? The guy can't watch them all at once; as soon as he's sufficiently distracted, someone should take the opportunity to tag him. That's what he'll do, anyway, quick as a wink, the instant that firearm turns away. If it does

[myownluck]

Superintendent Warden's appearance is definitely surprising, and might have even been frightening, if he hadn't been... well, Superintendent Warden. As it is, though, Harvey still considers it less a laughing matter than Clown and Clownette.

He tosses the keys in John's direction -- he'd better catch them -- and darts to the side, whichever side Chuckles isn't on, reaching into his bag for the pepper spray.

If he's lucky, he doesn't get shot before he gets close enough to get off a good, long stream of capsaicin in their beloved asylum administrator's face.

[laughing_magus]

There are definitely some sizable nuts in this room. Possibly even of various qualities of metal! It would take a real brass pair to mock a man with a great number of weapons and an obvious screw loose. But then, it's not as if any of them are all put-together.

John snatches the keys from the air and turns to dart towards the ambulance. He gets a decent way before he catches a rubber bullet between the shoulders and tumbles to the ground. That is going to be a hideous bruise, but he gets back to his feet and dives for the car port.

[arkham_warden]

That's it. It's official he hates all of them. Geoffrey is very ready to shoot the Joker in his smug, ugly face. That is, until keys are thrown at John. The brit makes a move and Geoffrey isn't about to let him get away. His attention swings and he fires, only to be sprayed in the face. He remembers this burn. His dad gave him his first can of pepper spray when he was nine and, of course, gave him standard experience training with it. Which meant a quick spray in the face. He'll never understand why he needed to also get official training a few years later.

He shrieks, closes his eyes, and begins firing wildly at every sound in the room.

[icd10f60pt7]

Harley would be very, very upset to know that he hated her. Really. Right now, though, is more the time to avoid (or not avoid) being shot with a rubber bullets. That was her arm, mister.

So that hurts quite a bit. Enough for her to get a little angry and try to shove a crash cart into him. She does NOT enjoy being shot at, okay?