[Thread] It's so hard not to hate the things I see.

[entro_pist]

Characters: The Joker; Haaaaarley Quinn
Where: The complex.
When: After this.
What: Harley drools over the Joker and his wounds and possibly attempts to help him.
Warnings: The usual. Blood, possible violence. Possible hair-pulling.
Notes: This thread is closed to J and Harley but if you're Dexter-mun, feel free to have Dexter stumble upon and freak

Comments

[sugarclown]

It wasn't the blood, or even his scent, that put Harley on the trail of her obsession. It was some sort of sixth sense, an innate knowledge of the current location of her man at any given time. Harley just knew. It was like she had some sort of tracking system in place in her brain

[entro_pist]

He'd heard her noisy approach the moment Harley entered into his range of hearing and though every nerve crackled like static beneath his skin, the Joker didn't turn to look at her. It was only when he'd almost finished submitting his request for medical supplies into the system that he acknowledged her. And acknowledge her he did. In one deft movement of his arm, he raised his pistol to her and, with no warning at all, opened fire. Originally, the first few shots had been intended for Red Arrow, so they flew right over Harley's head, possibly taking a few blonde hairs with them.

Then, after hitting the final key to submit, the Joker turned his bloodstained face to her, followed by the rest of his body, and released another short burst of shots until he'd emptied half his clip. He wasn't trying to kill Harley or even trying to aim because if he was, she'd be dead. Though if she caught a bullet, he wouldn't feel sorry. This was merely one of his ways of letting off a little steam...

[sugarclown]

The first few shots whizzed past her head just above her scalp. Harley froze, wide eyed, like a deer caught in headlights. Apparently her puddin’ wasn’t in the mood for jokes. How totally unlike him! She took a step forward, about to console him, when he turned around

[entro_pist]

The final bullet case bounced off marble tile with a sharp clink before rolling away. Then all was silent. Glock still poised to shoot, the Joker straightened the angle of his head, face set with an indecipherable look. For the briefest moment, he waited for something to happen and deliberated whether or not to squeeze the trigger again. Harley was bleeding from the side, he noticed, where one of the bullets must have grazed.

Watching her evade his bullets like a death defying circus act had been surprisingly cathartic. When nothing else happened, the Joker lowered his Glock and his expressionless look gave way to a discolored grin.

"Harley! It's only you." Oopsie daisy! Apparently, his "relaxation" technique really worked. If there had been anyone following him (other than Harley), surely they would have made themselves known the moment he'd started firing away at poor hapless Harley.

"What happened? Oh, I just had a little face-time with an old friend." And quite literally. He'd shredded a man's eye. "That is, until we were