ALL EYES ON ME, IN THE CENTER OF THE RING, JUST LIKE A CIRCUS!

IT’S NOT IMPOSSIBLE TO SAY NO TO HARLEY, but it’s fairly close. her chatter is pleasant background noise as pamela’s vines crack the bank vault open, the metal screeching under the sheer pressure of her carefully grown plants. “   stand back,   ” she warns, but the warning proves unnecessary: there are no further guards, just all of that lovely unguarded money.

only then does she look back at harley, offering a smile.   “ ice cream sounds lovely. ” she can afford to be sentimental and spontaneous, right? after all, the gcpd isn’t finding their way out of the veritable jungle pamela had grown any time soon. ( pamela’s not a huge fan of sweets, but it’s worth it for the excitement on harley’s face. )

WELL, HOW ABOUT THAT!  she didn’t say no! she didn’t say no! absolutely thrilled, harley claps her hands together, so excited she can barely sit still. she rocks on her feet, delighted, and gives her companion an award-winning smile. harley does as told — hopping back a step, watching in awe as the greenery goes to work. she’ll never not be impressed.

· · · ›  @arlequin·· gets a starter bc reasons !

CHESHIRE  GRIN  PAINTS  THE  FEATURES  of  an  otherwise  ruined  canvas,  vibrant  colors  covering  bruises  and  blotched  skin  beneath.     𝕮𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖞𝕷𝖆𝖓𝖉   was  no  kind  place  for  children,  birthing  evil  in  young  and  innocents  hearts  and  left  them  branded  too  distasteful  for  the  course  to  be  served.     𝙷𝙴  𝚆𝙰𝚂  𝙾𝙽𝙲𝙴  𝙾𝙽𝙴  𝙾𝙵  𝚃𝙷𝙴𝙼  —  young  and  innocent  and  oh - so - naive  when  ate  the  poisoned  candy  that  twisted  his  mind …

the  eerie  sound  of  his  laughter  creeps  through  the  misty  air  of  a  moonlit  night,  quick - paced  footstep  running  away  from  him  and  he  watched  the  children  disappear  in  the  distance.   he  lets  them  go,  his  hand  clutching  the  prized  candy  as  he  begins  to  stride  along  in  the  opposite  direction.             𝚘𝚑,  𝚑𝚘𝚠  𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚢  𝚒𝚝  𝚠𝚊𝚜  𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐  𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚢  𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖  𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚗  𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎  𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜 …

THE CARNIVAL WELCOMES ONE AND ALL.  she’s giddy; endless whorls of colors and technicolor extravagances, the taste of sweets and incessant joys upon her tongue. shrieks of giggles leave harley, temporarily sated by such — she doesn’t know where she is, only that she’s happy. and, really, wasn’t that all that mattered?

laughter that isn’t her own reaches harley’s ears, cruel and delighted. intrigued, she’s inclined to saunter on over.

❝ ooh, yer bad, mister! ❞  she croons, grin stretching from ear to ear. he ain’t bad to look at, either...

three    months        —-        𝚃𝙷𝙴    𝙻𝙴𝙽𝙶𝚃𝙷    𝙾𝙵    𝙸𝙽𝙲𝙰𝚁𝙲𝙴𝚁𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽        .  .  .        𝚃𝙷𝚄𝚂    𝙵𝙰𝚁       .        during    which    time    he    had    been    expected    to    succumb    to    asylum’s    pallor        ,        to    its    fluorescence        ,        to    its    cruelty        𝐁𝐔𝐓    𝐀𝐒    𝐓𝐇𝐄    𝐎𝐋𝐃    𝐒𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆    𝐆𝐎𝐄𝐒        :        you    can    take    the    boy    out    of    the    fight        .  .  .        * &        yet    they’re    still    trying    to        TAKE    THE    FIGHT    FROM    THE    BOY        .        cue    cell    door    unlocking        ,        opening        .        [        𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚗    𝚠𝚘𝚗’𝚝    𝚜𝚘    𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑    𝚊𝚜    𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗    𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚎    𝚊    𝚐𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎        ]        heavy    work    boots    fall    against    the    linoleum        ,        approaching    restrained    man       .        “        ITS    YOUR    LUCKY    DAY        ,        FREAK        .        “        the    guard    would    declare        ,        timbre    dripping    disgust    as    he    nears        .        “        finally    getting    that    doctor’s    appointment    you’ve    been    on    about        .        “        

    @𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍    @𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍    @𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍    @𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍

ENTER THE GOOD DOCTOR.  all white lab coat and arkham key-card, notepad and file clutched to her chest; far from wide-eyed, far from naive — just hungry enough to accept our john doe. such a troubled case, the joker!

harleen would write her findings, surely. what a story to be told! she’s been warned time and time again; how he fights, how his outbursts are difficult to contain. this does not unnerve her.

she takes her seat across from him, metal scraping against the clinically gray floors.

A HOP, A SKIP, AND A JUMP!  boots slam onto the ground, the grin the clown’s sporting growing wider and wider by the minute.  ❝ ain’t this caper a blast, red?! ❞

teeters once, twice, a petulant pout when her companion tells her to shush while she works. even still, it does very little to actually deter harley.