Arkham's ex-psychologist known as Harleen Frances Quinzel, a blond bombshell, falls in love with a patient she longed to study-- the Joker. The skilled gymnast leaves her intern at the Asylum to become a full fledged sidekick and lover to her partner in crime.
Face Claim: Gwen Stefani
Wade stumbled back as she pushed him, his anger now growing. His lips curled into a snarl behind his mask as she tore him a new one verbally. Granted, he deserved every bit of this, but anyone yelling at Wade would strike a nerve in him. He waited for her to finish before he started back. “I’m not getting out of your way, Harley!” He bellowed, his hands balled into fists at his sides. “It’s not just the looks, Harls. I can’t die; remember that? I don’t want to be walking this Earth ‘til it ends, and I sure as fuck don’t want to live after you’re dead!”
Ripping his mask off, the scars were still there. His blue eyes glared down at her as he continued. “At least you’ll be happy to know it didn’t work; I’m still a freak and I still can’t fuckin’ die. Now I just got new fuckin’ scars to deal wtih.” He raised up his top, showing off the marks from the testing that hadn’t healed yet. “I get it; I fucked up. I didn’t tell you, but it wasn’t like I was off slammin’ German broads!” And at any other time in his life, he would’ve, but not this time. Not when this woman made him happier than he had ever been. No meaningless sex could ever replace what he felt about her.
It was like this every time they fought, it could never be normal, it was always heated, and the more the merc got pissed the more pissed Harley became. Furiously she stammered her feet, beating them into the ground as she threw her tantrum as he continued to stand and get in her way. “I know you can’t die!!” she screamed, it was no longer loud voices but she was hollering loud enough to kill her throat. Yes it was painful to know that he’d more than likely live on after her death, because she knew if it was the other way around it would pain her to live long after his death— but none of this was the point.
"For’ah Christs sake, what tha’ hell Wade?!" and more than anything during their heated arguments she hated when he shoved words down her throat or as a matter of fact twisted them. "NO, I’M NOT FUCKING HAPPY." and that was the problem— she simply wasn’t happy. She couldn’t be happy, not even for his return, because she was simply just so upset with him, with the idea that it would happen again and again until he eventually stopped showing up altogether. "It’s not about tha’ fucking broads, tha’ sluts ya’ could have had sex with oR ANY OTH’AH MEANINGLESS CRAP!!" her eyes glared so heavily and her throat began to throb in pain from the pitching screams that left her mouth and she realized that right now, no matter how much she yelled and screamed, he wasn’t going to get it. He wasn’t going to understand her and she had no way of making him get it any clearer.
"I’m serious!" Wade barked back at her, reaching out to her and this time grabbing her shoulder. He spun her around, his voice growing with anger as he spoke. "I’ve been in Germany for the past few months. Got a tip about some doctor…said he could cure someone like me." Harley knowing how much Wade hated his scars, his insanity…she would know how much it meant to him. "I’ve been a human guinea pig for months, because I’m tired of looking like this. I wanna be normal…not just for me, but for you."
Once she was spun around she barked right back at him with a heavy thrust shoving him by the chest to push him back “Don’t fucking touch me!” she snarled but stood her ground as she faced him. Granted he meant no harm to her physically with that gesture, if there was one thing Wade would understand it was her emotional stance every time a man grabbed her like so with anger in his voice, deep down whilst is petrified her and prepared her to be beaten at the same time it caused her to stand up. “Congratulations on findin’ some genius Nazi doctor ta’ treat your’ah illness, but don’t you dare pawn that fucking excuse on me as if it didn’t warrant a phone call from your’ah sorry ass! What?! Ya’ like makin’ me worry? Ya’ like puttin’ me on edge if I’ll eva’ see ya’ again or know your’ah livin’ fine? Fuck you, Wade!” she ranted and flashed her teeth, enough saliva pooling in her mouth she spat as a few harsh words flared past her crimson lips.
"Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad ya’ found someone ta’ help you out, but don’t fucking stand ther’ah and tell me you did this for’ah me when ya’ know damn well I LOVE YOU JUST THA’ FUCKING WAY YOU ARE. Every fucking scar, every flaw, every inch of yourself you apparently hate. What kinda shallow gal you take me for’ah?! Your’ah tha’ one who wants it, do it for’ah you, don’t do it for’ah me. And tha’ next time you want that to be your’ah damn fucking excuse, wouldn’t it be the right thing ta’ do and tell the woman you apparently wanna say you love? —tch. Get out of my way, Wade." and it wasn’t that Harley didn’t care, she did quite strongly too, but the idiocy to cross the deadly merc every time he pulled some stunt that required some reason for him to escape and leaving the harlequin to deal had become enough to piss her off. Secrets and surprises, she didn’t need this shit, and felt quite reasonably that when Wade felt these missions would pull him away for an extended amount of time that he would be respectful enough to fill her in, even if he couldn’t share too much info. But was a simple goodbye so hard for him to comprehend?
"Bullshit, Harley." His face twisted into a frustrated look as he crossed his arms. Picking up his speed, he eventually stepped in front of her and held his ground. Staring down at her from behind his mask, he stared into those ocean blues that he had missed while he was away. "Look. I’m sorry I was away for so long. An opportunity came up, and…I had to take it. See if it was legit."
She took a deep breath and stopped before him as he blocked her way. The grenade now held in the clutch of her hand as it stopped being tossed. “Oh, sur’ah sur’ah.” of course another opportunity came up, of course this would be work related. of course this would be the same shit she heard a dozen times before; yes— he was sorry… again. “Can it, Wade.” her hand tossed up in irritation as she side-stepped around him to continue walking.
Wade watched as the grenade was snatched away before his eyes traveled towards the harlequin. “Babe?” He rose a brow, turning to face her. He could tell something was eating at her; he could always tell when something was up. Following behind her, his hand reached out for a moment before he pulled it back. He knew better; let her get it off her chest first. “Babe, what’s wrong?”
She hummed whilst she tossed the grenade in her hand, a playfully bouncy walk in her steps as she was quite good at putting on a show even though it would be clear something was clearly wrong. “Wrong? Somethin’s wrong? Oh~ hmm— hm… nothing is wrong~” ruby lips pursed here and there between her speech as she produced tiny little puckered up smiles. Though they faded eventually.
"You had me at ‘blow’, babycakes." Wade grinned as he stood behind Harley, tossing a grenade idly in the air with a hand on his hip.
"Well if it ain’t my Wadeycakes…" the innuendo was not hard to miss and admittedly the bouncing grenade was the reason she grinned partially. Though what stirred in her mind was how it seemed no matter what man she went for she kept getting abandoned by them. The prince of crime came and went many times and it seemed like Wade was good at the disappearing act too. She snatched the grenade that was tossed and began to walk away.
"—eeck, everythin’ blows. In fact what can I blow ta’ smithereens for’ah fun?" hums and taps the barrel of her gun against her temple.
“Jesus Saves – take two and keep one; give the other to a friend,” he says a bit too cheerfully for that godforsaken, unholy time – who even drags himself out into the cold at 7 am? Voluntarily? –, waving the flyer into the stranger’s face – obnoxiously big letters in bright yellow and gold, Comic Sans on poorly cropped and put together pictures of smiling children holding hands and suspiciously happy priests in the background, topped with a nice splash of Word Art.
The early bird was up bright and early; the early bird catches the worm. Daytime was risky but less people to crowd a bank, yes a bank and why would the harlequin be going to a bank a couple hours before the opening of their doors? Well we can take a guess… if it weren’t for the overly retarded kid waving a flyer in her face. How fucking corny was this? His cheap doodle job of a poorly rendered art piece to signify the saving of our life— tch. Leather crimson soaked digits swatted the flimsy parchment. “Ey— it’s a bit t’early for’ah your’ah bullshit toots, can it n’save it.”
OOC/ HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO USE THIS GIF TONIGHT??? ASDFAWEIOU THANK YOU… AGAIN… SO MUCH… AHH THIS IS REALLY NICE.