Joker's Brat

She’s got the prominent nose, the square jaw and even the same eyecolor.

But IDK

He doubted she would take the foolish risk to hurt him, but a little threat could never hurt. Besides, it’s not like she really stood a chance in the first place. Or so he preferred to assume.

“Well, it’s a pocket-sized toy, it’s supposed to be light,” he mentions in a gruff tone before his hand nimbly dives into the inner pocket of his jacket to soon pull out a handgun. Spinning the weapon around, it would be a shame if it suddenly misfired. “That one’s a tiny bit heavier, obviously.”

Now she was really nervous. Vinnie had a gun or two he kept. She’d even held one once, but she never liked them. It was just... too much.  

Gaze meets the one across from hers. So much POTENTIAL. Potential for a life free of the SHIT and the PISS that this city throws when it’s least expected and refuses to clean up. Potential for a life where she’s known for her own achievement and not her BLOODLINE. Potential for something to be PROUD OF. 

❝   Of course I do. If not you, then WHO ??   ❞

Staring into her coffee, she took Harley’s words to heart. She was still young. She still had her identity. If somehow she were to be taken out of the equation, she could very well carry on living a normal life but... What would that even look like?

It would be more rational to muster up the patience and build a sense of trust first. Even bluntly artificial. But he didn’t have enough time nor nerves to bother with such sham. His restless foot tapped against the ground as the two seemed to be making up their minds. In a way, he was sooner expecting indignation as well as definite objection from Vinnie than Steve’s enthusiasm. And her stance promptly put a broad grin on his face.

Whilst the other man listened to the voice of common sense and moved away, the Joker stepped towards the kid without a hint of animosity that was present moments earlier. He crouched down, a firm hand falling onto Steve’s shoulder.

“Now… you made me a li’l proud. In this world, it’s important you stand up for yourself. I wouldn’t want my child to be a pushover.”

The moment his hand made contact on her shoulder, her lower eyelids gave the faintest sign of a wince, but she did her best to stay cool. With a deep breath, she focused on the feeling of his hand on her shoulder. It wasn’t cold like she had expected for some reason. He was ghostly pale, and had been a boogeyman figure in her mind for some time, so there was part of her that was almost surprised he was just a man of flesh and blood. Her, flesh and blood no less.

Biting her lower lip, she glanced down at her shoes and gave a crooked little smile. He was proud. Somehow, that didn’t feel quite as good as she imagined, but still... there was a small rush of excitement that came with it. With a nod, she looked back up at him, at loss.

A hand is waved in reference to the blonde’s own outfit. She’s given up the privilege of an alias, refusing to hide her true COLOURS from the city that would never let her forget them. For her to be seen with a CIVILIAN would only ruin their reputation. It’s better that she’s not herself right now.

❝   Do ya see what I’M WEARIN’ ?? You’ll blend right in.   ❞

Harley had a point. A sharp, gleeful guffaw bubbles up past her lips and she gives a little twirl. This was so exciting! She didn’t exactly mind keeping a low profile on off days, but getting to act out a little? Getting to mooch off of Joker and Harley’s fearsome reputations until she grew one of her own? It was enough to make her smile.

“Then what the hell is he planning?” Robin doesn’t expect to get far, nor does he expect to get many answers from Wildcard.  Especially if the Joker is involved.  None of them ever feel like talking much, especially if it gives Batman or Robin the answers that those two want.  Tonight was going to be especially long.

“No.”  If she really doesn’t know anything, then there’s no point in waiting for Batman to get here.  “Unless you conveniently remember anything, then we’re done here.”

“Alright, then read me my rights and get me outta here already!” she chided, swaying slightly, back and forth. “I’m feelin’ a little woozy.” Despite all her bravado, she was terrified. She was had been careful enough not to get caught up until now. There was a chance she’d do alright in Arkham, but if she didn’t qualify for the whole insanity bit? She wasn’t sure she could do Blackgate.

Joker can’t help but chuckle when Steve’s emotions get the better of her. She would have to work on keeping them in check a little more. But for once he drives away the opportunity for another jab.

“I’m not goin’ to give you some deep talk… Knives are just knives, but I can share a few tips.” Picking up a switchblade, he hands it over to her. “Feel how it lays in your hand. And don’t try to stab me or I’ll break your arm.”

The thought honestly hadn’t crossed her mind until now, but she was seriously considering it. A broken arm just might be worth it. Maybe...

Taking the switchblade, she examines it, feeling the weight of it in her small hands. Thin, lithe fingers curl around the hilt, as one curious finger runs over the flat of the blade. Her eyes flit back up toward him, looking for any sign of approval.

She’s smaller than him, but her running start more than makes up for it. Effectively knocking him over, it takes some rather undignified wriggling and shoving to free himself from her grasp. Rolling out of her arm’s reach, he pushes himself back up onto his feet. “We don’t have to fight. Just let me by.”

Drawing a knife from the holster strapped to her thigh, she drops into a defensive stance and slowly starts to circle him. Just a few more minutes is all she needed to give Vinnie. Surely she could distract the Bat just long enough.

GRITTED TEETH were remaining displayed in a smile-like grimace that was turning more and more rigid. And Vincent opening his mouth didn’t make it any better. He couldn’t really recall on what terms they were before, but he certainly wasn’t liking the guy NOW.

“Where’s that impatience coming from?” The grin and bear it tactic was becoming less efficient as each second languidly passed by. Pocketing his hands, blank glare bore into the other man. SHARP INHALE.

“Be a peach and leave us for a moment, Vincent,” he soon threw in, tone derisive. Gazing down at Steve, an eyebrow quirked. “We’ve got some catchin’ up to do, don’t we?” Not really what he had in mind, but anything to get rid of THE INTRUDER.

The trepidation Vinnie felt was clear from his expression, all the way to how he carried himself. Steve felt his hands tighten on her shoulders and she wanted to curl in on herself. Yet... there was a certain degree of curiosity that kept her standing tall, staring at the Clown Prince of Crime with wide, earnest eyes.

“Go ahead.” Steve encouraged her uncle, giving one of his hands a gentle pat. “I’ll be okay.” It wasn’t a promise she was sure she could keep, but it was something. Vinnie returned the Joker’s glare for a moment, but it faltered, turning into a look of surrender. 

A soft smile graces cherry lips as they pull away from her mug. Thin fingers reach up to help with the smoothing effort. The fabric mask is fine for LOW - EFFORT missions, but when it comes to breaking a sweat ?? Not a chance. Blonde tresses shake along with her head in response to STEVE’S idea. Her rationale follows soon after. 

❝   Y’don’t wanna give up the mask. Then y’give up havin’ an ALIAS and livin’ a normal life someday. We’ll get ya one made of VINYL or somethin’.   ❞

A normal life someday. That was the hope, honestly. Though, the longer she was part of this life, the more that seemed like a childish fantasy. Granted... she was still very much a child. Most of her hope and whimsy had been slowly leached from her.

❝   COLD STONE.   ❞

The name of the parlour is echoed, not in question, but in CONFIRMATION. If that’s where she wanted to go, that’s where they’re headed. They’ve had an exciting day, they might as well end it off with some excitement as well. Blonde tresses lean towards their intended target, an invitation to GET MOVING.

❝   Let’s get SCOOTIN’ !!   ❞

“Hell yeah!” Steve cheered, pumping her fist in the air. Though, she paused again, tentatively looking down at her costume. Usually if she went someplace with Uncle Vinny or by herself, she dressed down. Harley typically didn’t from what she could tell.

Perhaps if Robin were younger, or the circumstances were different, then he would have brought David in.  But there was something more important now.  Besides, Gotham City still has a lot of criminals.  No one is going to bat an eye one of them gets lost in the shuffle of the system.  Hopefully, David keeps his path on the straight and narrow, now.

“…What were you planning?”  He begins the interrogation right away.  Robin doesn’t intend to waste any time.

“Me? Planning?” she barks a laugh and winces immediately after. “I ain’t planning shit, bird-boy. That’s my pop’s department. I’m just the errand girl.” Honestly, she didn’t know what he was planning either. More often than not, she purposefully didn’t ask questions. It felt safer somehow.

He had been in Arkham a long, long time - after he had been imprisoned Batman had disappeared from the streets. Oh, he was sure he was still out there, somewhere… But the absence was like someone had blotted out the sun, carved a hole in his chest and sucked out his insides. He’d had no reason to do anything any more. Or maybe… Maybe that was the abundant cocktail of drugs they kept him pumped full of to stop him killing any more of their staff.

After all - there had been a time before Batman, hadn’t there? No, really… Hadn’t there?

But back to the matter at hand - the truth of it is - he’s been gone a long time and battling some serious withdrawal symptoms when there’s a knock on the door of the hovel he’s hiding out in. He doesn’t trust the dim witted blonde he’s hooked up with further than he can throw her (although he imagines that it might be quite far, easily several stories if she keeps on the way she has been) and so, it his him who creeps towards the door, and slowly prises it open.

A young woman (he sure is reeling them in right now, ain’t he?) stands there looking like she could just shit. “Ye-e-e-s?” He queries, eyes raking over her, noting the hand jammed in her pocket without comment.

Clenching her teeth hard enough she’s sure she might crack a molar, she stares at him with wide blue-grey eyes. Oh god... Of all her stupid ideas, this had to be the worst. She knew she wanted to track him down, but now... what did she say?

“H-Hi...” she starts lamely, both hands jammed into her pocket now. “This is going to sound crazy, but I was hoping to find you.” Everything about this is overwhelming suddenly. The buzz of the fluorescent lights, the stench of cigarette and marijauna smoke steeped into the hallway carpet, the cold steel of the gun in her hands and his eyes-- They’re so familiar it hurts. Sucking in a deep breath, she does her best to keep focus on what it is she’s trying to say.