04-09-2018, 12:54 AM
Time is a theoretical construct created by beings for their own aspirations. It is created to measure the gap between events in the form of minutes, seconds, and hours. What happens when no events occur? When thoughts and actions consume you, where do you go?
Imagine being alone in a dark room with nothing but your thoughts. This might not be bad for some, but for those who had thoughts like Harley, it was toxic. Someone with an advanced personality disorder can easily find themselves in a manic obsession, The Joker and Batman were case examples.
For the mistress of mischief, her new found obsession was with Judge Dread. Her days and nights were absorbed with thoughts of Harley's stone-faced enforcer. Newspaper clipping scraps littered the floor in the cramped hideaway, where she tucked herself away for the past few years. The walls along Harley's retreat were covered with stories of the Judge's sentences, along with pictures, and drawings of herself and the Judge together.
She elaborately thought of ways to get his attention, if only she could easily bring him all the way out here again, but chances of that were slim. The things that she would do to him kept Harley's thoughts ablaze, and the time rapidly running past her. The next encounter with the tall, dark, menace had to be absolutely perfect.
Harley laid on the cold concrete floor with only the unused newspapers and magazines to cradle her head. On the ceiling above her was a giant poster of the Judge that she stole from a shopkeeper, whose wares included embezzled merchandise from Coruscant. If it was already stolen, Harley thought that pinching it herself was just karma coming to the sleazeball, besides, Baby does whatever she wants.
The Judge's brilliant tapestry looked to be like some sort of cheesy advertisement you would find in a government institution, and it made Harley sick. Sick in Love? Who knows? What is love to the twisted Clown Princess?
"Love is pain." Harley whispered breathlessly as she plunged another knife into the Judge's paper heart alongside the countless others.
A vision of her cutting down the Judge flooded her psyche, causing her to erupt in a wicked laughter. Harley's body convulsed, lightly like during a pleasant orgasm, as she landed two more knife shots on the poster.
"Soon you will be all mine, handsome."
Imagine being alone in a dark room with nothing but your thoughts. This might not be bad for some, but for those who had thoughts like Harley, it was toxic. Someone with an advanced personality disorder can easily find themselves in a manic obsession, The Joker and Batman were case examples.
For the mistress of mischief, her new found obsession was with Judge Dread. Her days and nights were absorbed with thoughts of Harley's stone-faced enforcer. Newspaper clipping scraps littered the floor in the cramped hideaway, where she tucked herself away for the past few years. The walls along Harley's retreat were covered with stories of the Judge's sentences, along with pictures, and drawings of herself and the Judge together.
She elaborately thought of ways to get his attention, if only she could easily bring him all the way out here again, but chances of that were slim. The things that she would do to him kept Harley's thoughts ablaze, and the time rapidly running past her. The next encounter with the tall, dark, menace had to be absolutely perfect.
Harley laid on the cold concrete floor with only the unused newspapers and magazines to cradle her head. On the ceiling above her was a giant poster of the Judge that she stole from a shopkeeper, whose wares included embezzled merchandise from Coruscant. If it was already stolen, Harley thought that pinching it herself was just karma coming to the sleazeball, besides, Baby does whatever she wants.
The Judge's brilliant tapestry looked to be like some sort of cheesy advertisement you would find in a government institution, and it made Harley sick. Sick in Love? Who knows? What is love to the twisted Clown Princess?
"Love is pain." Harley whispered breathlessly as she plunged another knife into the Judge's paper heart alongside the countless others.
A vision of her cutting down the Judge flooded her psyche, causing her to erupt in a wicked laughter. Harley's body convulsed, lightly like during a pleasant orgasm, as she landed two more knife shots on the poster.
"Soon you will be all mine, handsome."
![[Image: harley-quinn-arkham-city-gif-7.gif]](http://www.cytokineindustries.com/chevereto/images/2018/06/05/harley-quinn-arkham-city-gif-7.gif)