Exclusively for International Cosplay Day Singapore (ICDS) 2012 @ Ngee Ann Polytechnic on the 26th of Aug! A limited Edition Collaborative print with legendary cosplayer Yaya Han ! You can pre-order a copy now! (email firstname.lastname@example.org if you'd like to reserve one)
Each print retails at $20, so get them while stocks last. Will be there to sign and sketch! Hope to see y'all there!
He'd listen to her recount her trials with The Bat with a rapt intrest, still seeming giddy about the whole prospect of killing her. She still couldn't escape by any account, and he seemed content to remain upon his Harley Quinn Throne for the time being. Her words were drank by him, listening to her speak of her trust and adoration. All these things that were spoke seemed to pour directly from Harley's little heart, and he'd take note of this with a far away observation. Part of him had become scared of the blonde, scared of what she could do to him by just accepting him for his warped and twisted self. When he was called Melvin, he mouthed it back with abit of distain, not giving a yes or no to any of these claims. Simply be, he was and always had been Joker in his mind. It just depended on his mood for the day, and the sick bastard had known Harley loved a good sappy story. But in restrospective, he had this past laid out just for her. To him, it worked. It spun the cogs of the wheels that made him tick and work in conjunction with his squeeze. "Yes. I'm still going to kill you. Maybe." His thumb brushed against the chamber shoving it back home and he'd seem to give a off hand stroke of that silver object. And then it was shoved almost sexually into her mouth, that barrel pushing past her lips and allowing him a good view of what would be his beau's brains splattering all over that pillow. He writhed on his seat, ironically her, and purred down to Harley. "This is what's best for all of us. You. Me. Bats. Close your eyes kiddo. I'm gonna paint your pretty face.. one.. last.. time.." Click of that hammer, back against the gun and the sound of that chamber loading. Killing and Harley. It's what got Joker's rocks off. And now it was the best of both worlds for that psychopath.
It was frustrating to Harley, she'd never told one secret, never told anyone anything about the two of them together. The doctors, to Harley's knowledge wheren't even aware the pair had a relationship. Or that's how she'd paint it. Harley wasn't dumb, she knew what Shockholm Syndrome was, and she'd be a perfect text book case, because she acted like she had it. It was Harley's own little plea deal if she was mental ill, there'd be no prison time. Gun shoved past those bare pouting figures, she took the barrel almost as willingly as she had a part of Joker's anatomy. As he writhed she felt him and her body eased up, pushing into him. She was so addicted to him and that madness that even she was getting a small thrill off this. Those lips wrapped around the barrel of the gun, it'd look like something as she'd done to him before. Doing as she was told, those blue eyes, those beautiful baby blue eyes that sparkled and twinkled only for Joker. Eyes that showed that she could only love one person, only throw her life away for one person, and that person was him would shut. Seemingly for what would be the last time, still with the threat of death looming over her she'd obey her Master. This was right, this was what he had to do, prove a point to the Bat, and Harley couldn't see the downside to her life ending, not by his hands. Not for his own personal gain. She'd groan softly on that gun well he whispered to her, 'one. last. time.', her eyes opened for a second giving him one last look before closing them. The final stage of Grief, Acceptance.
White knuckled hand would tense, keeping that weapon drawn and securely in that mouth with other images briefly flaunting through his mind of similar circumstances. And then it dawned on him, a masterful revelation. And it just saved her life. Drawn gun escaped his mouth and he'd give a mournful bellow of shame. Oh, he couldn't do it. And he knew at once why that was. Snatching Harley up he'd hug that blonde into his stomach. Both arms going around that head softly and give a soft whimper. Again the pendulum swung. Speaking to her so appreciative now, his little slave in this madness of his always willing to follow him down their own little rabbit hole. "Oh Harley! I can't kill you! And I get it now. Because killing you would be just too good. Too sweet. It's just too damn greedy. You'd be my perfect murder. And after that, then what!? I'd be a knife without a hand. A collapsed bridge without a ten car pile up. Oh no." Her face became a mix of his hands, that gun, and several different affection smudges of that perfect complexion she boasted. Contorting it around, he smiled lovingly now at his pet as he soothed her over pleased. "Killing you in this room with this gun would be such a waste. Isn't that right?" Releasing her finally, he'd swing off her and slide down that bed. Ignoring the jabbing bar in his spine and opting to lay across her stomach while placing the pistol to his head, he'd stare at the ceiling absently. Thinking for a second before he'd flirt with springing a just kidding on her and beating her to death with the gun. Awww, but Harley was such a keeper.
Harley simply stared at this mad man, she wasn't sure what saved her life but her life being saved didn't matter. No not yet, not if she was left in this cell to rot without Joker. Her entire body that was still shaken from his acts of madness, would jump almost afraid that he would opt to smothering her instead of shooting her, well he hugged her into that wirey frame of his. But he was so close and Harley still missed him, even if he was seconds away from ending her life. She couldn't help herself, hands moved to his sides well he hugged her, she couldn't rightly remember what he felt like before this, but he felt like home. She listened to his words, her entire mind swimming with utter confusion as he told her how he couldn't kill her. It'd be too perfect. She continued to stare like a wounded animal who'd just been kicked by its savior, many her entire mind was slow to process what was happening. Off she was swung, as he got more comfortable if that was possible in a bed like that. Now again with that close contact, Harley started to feel like herself. That broken and picked a part mind of hers, that seemed like it had healed itself had just broken once again. But it broke in the Joker's favor. She was slowly slipping back into what she was before this, even if she didn't look the part anymore. The hand that held the gun would be brought down from his head and to his side, delicate little fingers offering as much force as they could. She hovered over him now, eyes staring out into the openness of the cell, but it was still second fiddle, next to her Puddin who was laying in stuck a nice position as far as Harley cared. Once again the minx like look return to her face as his loyal companion preened over him. "Right-a-roonie, Puddin!"
He would lavish in his decadent pose, resting on his clown girl and content to stay there forever. But chance ate away at him, mind wandering over the gun in his hand. Against his very skull. It was like it was whispering to him. He had to know if she would have been lost to him forever. Free hand grasped at metal surface as he hauled himself up to his feet, a horn blowing somewhere in his get up but him acting as if he hadn't heard it. "Oh but it's just killing me to know if that next chamber had the bullet Pooh. I've got to find out!" And again Harley was tortured with the gun pointed her way, Joker staring down at her laying on the bed and absently wondering if she had indeed been fated to die that day if he hadn't stayed his hand. Only one way to find out! As he prepared to fire, he caught the glimpse out of his eye and turned that arm. Luck rolled it's dice, and as the orderly entered the room confused as to why the cell was open. The clown and the man in white traded familiar looks, and Joker squeezed the trigger. The bullet that had been meant for his Pooh instead drilled itself into the shoulder of the bulky man whom immediately crumbled into the wall in surprise and shock. Looking at Harley, he'd balk at his statement before he made a comment that seemed completely incorrect. "You've got the worst luck don't you!?" He offered his hand out to her, to help her up. His open grasp a metaphor of sorts for Harley's uncertain and dangerous future. Stay in your cell and rot. Or more than likely die by this man's fortune down the road of chaos he walked. But he lovingly smiled at her. "Let's go Harley. I've got a empire to start."
"You've progressed immensely, Harleen." Doctor Liland would explain, scribbling upon her note-board eagerly, writing down her success no doubt. Harley could see the amount of respect she'd gain from the other doctors, simply by clicking Harley's mind back into place.
Legs dangling over the patient's bed, swinging with the greatest of excitement as the doctor spoke, her expression fixed in a permanent smile.
"You've completed all of your sessions, complied with great interest and co-operation."
Listening on, petite legs swinging faster, charcoal smile pulling wider. Her features were still permanently stained with that damn face-paint, maybe with a good scrub once she returned home, she'd be able to remove the constant reminder..
"And we've decided, Harleen.."
Thoughts discarded, head snapping up and continuing to listen intently.
"In the next few days, you will be released. We declare you, mentally safe and sound."
Of course Harley won't remain sane! Are YOU insane?!
Can you imagine being stuck within a metal institute? It's a rouge, i tell ya.
Anyway. xD That's the last of it for tonight. I'll be making more possibly tomorrow. I'm so addicted. Enjoy.
Harley Quinn. (c) DC Comics. Manipulation. (c) ~MsQuinzel.
"You will all notice that you have a collar around your neck. I am to urge you not to tamper with it as it will send a small shock into you, persistent actions will cause a near catatonic inducing jolt of electricity, and although I tried my best, stepping outside of the compound will put you somewhere between fried and.. ah.. crispy. So, I'd encourage all of you to remain on the grounds of Arkham. As well, most members of the staff have been given a remote that can trigger a responses from the device, I tell you this not only for their safety, but for yours. Now, I-"
Joker recalled his tinkering with the device and the reaction it had triggered, as he continued to give a bored look at Doctor Strange, whom had been cut off by the whispering of one of the orderlies. The man acted delighted and quickly agreed with whatever despite the apparent pale tone the man had taken. Strange would notice the amount of curious eyes on himself, and would give a smile to the crowd. "I apologizes for the interruption, but it seems we have another of your associates coming in, and he just finished up with the small.. ah.. details. I'm sure most of you know"
Someone, or something howled, it was a bloody cry and what soon followed was the follow up of another cry of pain. It was hard to tell which one sounded more in agony at this point. From across the room the bulky form of Waylon, or Croc as most of the criminal underground knew him, was seen thrashing on the floor as a gusher of blood would be seen from a guard's cheek. Padding his face and seeing doctors and the like approach him, Strange would simply watch with a morbid fascination as the scene took place. Croc of course was climbing up and going to grab a passing doctor, only to again be sent down to the floor with another paralyzing shock. It continued, and Joker watched as drool literally leaked from the corner of his mouth. Clasping Harley's arm to prevent her motherly instincts from taking over, he'd take in the effects of just what the collar could do.
This collar thing didn't sit well with Harley, this was cruel. Her fears for Joker of course at the front of her mind, she looked for something to squeeze to touch, feel him, make sure he's still there the voice told Harley. They'd given almost of the staff a tool that could harm her Puddin', the jolts she hadn't experienced, had she, she'd learn that she wouldn't be able to take much, she was probably one of the smallest in the group. She listened to all of this, a shocked look on her face. She found who she was looking for Jeremiah Arkham, how could he allow this to happen? She stared at him, that bastard with his cane and crooked nose, she tensed, Joker probably feeling how her form almost went on guard. She began feeling herself wishing that she'd shot him, killed him, fed him to something! Harley still the sweetheart and nurturing person she was, cared about the patients in Arkham Asylum. Her jaw tightened, the stare on Arkham, the dirty look only leaving when she saw the on goings of Strange. Harley seemed confused, curious. She was ready for what she saw, Croc would always hold a special place in her heart. She'd taken to him almost right away, meeting him briefly well she was a doctor here, she was one of her patients, the only one who didn't seem to mind that he was sharing doctors with Joker. He was the one who helped so much on those nights of terror. He was the only one of Joker's men that she trusted. She considered him a friend because he didn't try to eat her. "What are you doing to him!?" Harley screamed, as she watched Croc hit the floor in pain, all sorts of emotions running through her. It was overkill at this point to Harley. It'd been a good thing that Joker had grabbed her when he had. She felt herself pull like she was going to run and help him. But was stopped when she felt the spidery fingers of her beau wrap around her arm. Now she watched in utter horror as Croc drooled, a part of her thought Croc would never be the same again. The blond's head once again turning towards Joker, she ever the bleeding heart couldn't take anymore.
It'd have been a darn shame for Joker if he hadn't been so interested in what the effects were. Strange looked rather quizzically at the scene before nails scraped at the tuff of hair upon his chin. Forcing a smile he'd linger a moment before opening his arms and giving a slight shrug to one and all.
"Well, as you can all see, this is what will happen if you act out. I trust you all will behave. Now, I'm going to have some one on one time with some of you, I think first on the list is Miss Isley. Do not think for a second though any of you are above the need and call of this facility. My door is always open, at the very end of the hall. I'm sure Miss Quinn and Crane know where that is. Just a joke friends between colleagues. Good day, and Miss Isley if you would?"
He'd open the arm, hand holding a clipboard before pointing towards the door. The orderlies were getting Croc up to his feet, now that he was about as defenseless as a limbless man. Joker didn't see any need to release Harley just yet, watching the display and suddenly catching the approach of Dr. Strange towards the couple, his big fake smile and his big ugly face. He would produce an envelope from his jacket, giving a once over at the room before handing it off to Harley and giving a slight nod. Joker of course would snatch it before it could pass to Harley and simply hold it away from the two with an indignant look on his face. "No passing love letters to the girl Strrrange."
Through her teeth Harley hissed into the scrubs Joker was wearing, "He wasn't misbehavin', someone probably just provoked him." Teeth embedded so deep in her lip now, she thought she tasted blood, but she knew she couldn't sit there and sob into Joker's chest. Had he just brought Croc in here to show what could happen? There was a small twitch that came from Harley, that was muffled and hidden thanks to Joker. She'd composed herself just long enough to see the red head stand and walk towards the door, her flirty manner ever apparent as she blew a kiss to Doctor Strange, she made Harley look like an amateur. Her head once again buried deep into the wiry frame of her Puddin. Crane of course shooting a look to Strange as he made the joke, Jonathan always seeming the most bitter about what he lost. Well Harley could have cared less that she lost her job and her license. All that appear-ant as she clung to Joker as tight as she could. Even if she felt safe that close to Joker, she always did, she shuddered deep into him when Strange came close to them. From her hiding place of her blond pigtails and Joker's scrubs she looked at the letter that was meant for her. She had looked to the letter, she played that she didn't care what he had to give her. But of course that was lie, she wanted to see it. Eyes cast upwards to Joker as he made his comment or threat depending on who you asked and adoring smile forming on those bare lips as he was once again claimed her as his own.
He'd free up enough of his arm to clasp the fold of the letter and rattle it abit, sliding it to and fro before finding the content's too small to be a sort of letter. So he turned it's on it's side and clasped the end before tearing it free and upside down again. Hugo made his way off towards the door and after his first appointment without a mind in the world to see if Harley got it or what her reaction might be. Flat palm was held aloft to catch the tumbling object, a familiar sight to the pair. Red and gold, turned over to reveal the playing card that they both knew. The Joker. He wasn't blind enough to catch the symbolism here, picking up on each person's ideas. Ivy with her plants. Albert with his dummy. He even caught the burlap sack, probably not the original one, but a good enough make shift one, that Crane could make a mask out of. Holding the card up, he'd stare into the grinning fool on it's surface, it was her card, that he had entrusted to her. Without Joker, there'd be no Harley. Unsure as if to take this as a threat, he'd clasp the object and slide it directly into the seam of her baggy pants, right on the hip like old times sake. Arms going to fold around her, he'd speak almost as if he didn't care she heard what he had to say. "Looks like I'm going to have to get rid of another.. doctor..." The sound of molar's grinding against one another was heard as he'd grit those dingy teeth and mutter under his breath at the current state the hospital had been put in. Regardless, he could safely say that with ol Doc Strange around, it was atleast going to get a hell of alot more chaotic.
--- a/n; Dr. Hugo Strange is portrayed by Anthony Hopkins.
"and why do you lie. when you want to die. when you hurt inside? don't know what you lie for anyway. now there's nothing left to say.
well for a lonely soul you're having such a nice time."
-keane, "nothing in my way."
His hands seemed to tighten about that metal pole, rusted and worn from neglect. Leather causing bits to flake off and chip and sending a shower of ugly brown to the floor below. His neck was craned down, staring at the floor some 20 feet below and giving a whimsical thought to one of his close encounters with death, and how he had openly laughed at it. Harley's mouse like movements had never not caught his eye, from the batty girl flirting around in the background while he talked to loyally aiming enough fire power to flatten a small tank at unarmed people. Devotion, it almost touched him briefly, but his limber form seemed to stretch as though it was straightening, and he spoke to her. Somewhat alone for the time being, he'd speak to her in a similar tone as to when they had been locked up in Arkham together. He saw her as much a prisoner at the time as him, devilish smile eating away at his face, the only way to describe what those scars did to that once handsome visage. "Harley, you don't feel it like I do, do you? It's never going to stop, and even though I ask for it, it.. weighs me down. Even if he's not here right now, he's watching me. He's.. going to bring it all down on us one way or another. You know what happens to the bomb when the fuse winds all the way down?" He had left the support of the railings, and would move to clap his hands sharply infront of her, that sound stirring up the men but seeing it was just Joker being Joker, they returned to the lone television. "I ask myself some times, what's the point!? Batman. I sometimes think this is going to be how this plays out, until one of us dies. I hate the son of a bitch, but I know I'm going to keep breaking out just to piss him off. But.. things get are getting complicated. Complications." He'd move from her towards the cooler that had been brought, rummaging through and lifting free some bottle. "Me? I'm a fixer though. Of all these.. complications. Cheers, Pooh." And he raised a toast to Harley, going as if he was going to take a swallow of whatever these numbskulls had dug up from their pillaging of the neigborhood.
This one is completely and utterly for Matt. He picked Nothing in my Way as a song for the two of them and it actually does truly work. He's lying through his teeth the entire time. For a lonely soul he really does like having her around.
The manip itself is black and white because Matt liked it simple with no real effects and what not, just the two of them back to back. And after much debate and futzing with it of my own I had to agree.
I'll let you figure out what the little bit from the storyline means but without a doubt The Fourth Night is probably my favorite night.