06-13-2018, 11:52 AM
Delusions of sinister laughing sent shivers down my spine. Followed by an all too familiar voice that crept into my brain, like an accelerated cancer. Hissing like a snake, it whispered, "Harley, Darling! Such a big girl now!" His voice echoed inside my skull and overtook my senses, "Look at you, pretending to be a champion, running around like some hot-shot."
It was so real that if I closed my eyes, I could see the Joker’s face, just inches away from me. It persisted, "But you hear it, don't you?"
Hear what?
"The real you, buried under the floorboards, scratch, scratch, scratching to get out. The one who knows how useless you really are."
I shook my head, no, not this time. Ain't no slick fella in a cheap suit, with a creepy smile, gonna be telling me, who I am anymore. Snap out of it Harley.
Elbows back, my fingernails dug at the bullet holes in my back, breaking me from my psychotic trance. Even with the bastard out of my head, I still felt haunted by him, but the Omniverse gave me a place away from the madman. Separated from the pressures of his suffering, it gave me new found freedom. I'd be damned if I was gonna give that up now.
With the angel on my right, we rose simultaneously to face our adversaries. I didn't know what I anticipated, coming to Desmond’s Defense, but whatever it was, I didn't like getting fucking shot! It was time to step my game up if I wanted to win, or even make it out of here alive.
Looking to my partner, I couldn't be more pleased with my paring, bitch was tough, and I liked tough. Our opponents, on the other hand, were even more overwhelming.
The pint-sized sharpshooter stood a few yards away, bleeding at the mouth from my knee. Who did this snake eyed bitch think she was looking at? She had murder in her eyes, but I just giggled. "What's a matter sweet cheeks? Cat got your tongue?"
The cloaked competitor growled as she spat out a back molar, and flashed her bloody fangs. Yikes, I thought and asked my partner, "You got this?"
"Certainly," Jibril said, materializing her scythe again. With a sparkle in her eye, the angel grinned, that was all she needed to hear.
"Oh no you don't!" the female marksman shouted and aimed in my direction, but thankfully she was interrupted. Forced to maneuver back, she dodged a life-threatening blow from my heavenly guardian.
I trusted my partner could handle the short stack of a tyrant. As a result, I got quality one on one time with the most absurdly handsome man I have ever seen. In a blink of an eye, I was on top of him, swinging Goodnight like Babe Ruth in the bottom the ninth, with bases loaded.
Gil-farts saw right through me though, lunged away, pivoted to the side, and raised his metal arm to block my bat. With a flash, the impact forced both of us backward.
Embracing the momentum, I tumbled back, landed on my hands, and spurred myself upright. Man, I hate magic types, always have, and I think it's because, to me, it's like they’re cheating. I say that because, right before I could hit him again, he made me float like a feather, right over his stupid ginger head. At this rate, we were going nowhere, and my mind raced to come up with an effective strategy.
Landing on my feet, I wasted no time, bounding at him, but again, floated right over him with the same magic as before. This time I spun around, aimed my bat squarely at the brute’s head and threw Goodnight as hard as I could. The bat made contact, but in a flash of light, it disintegrated.
The second Goodnight exploded, I had both revolvers in my hands, ready to fire. Distracted, a fusillade of bullets decorated the hunk’s chest in splatters of red. Other than the blood seeping down and through the bandages wrapped around his abdomen, you really couldn't tell if the wizard was affected. In fact, the brute kinda just stood there, unimpressed, and with his arms folded across his chest.
His smug little face really made my blood boil. Again, I assailed him hard with a barrage of kicks and punches, each one making contact against flesh or titanium. Unfortunately for me, Gildarts found an opening in my onslaught and struck my chest. After hurtling through the air, I hit the ground hard and blood from my gashes made me slide like a penguin on ice.
Not giving up now, I somersault towards him, and with my hands planted firmly on the ground, I wrapped my legs around his shoulders. With his face in my crotch, this was the closest he was going to get without taking me to dinner. I curled my body up, legs firmly encircled around his neck and with pistols in both hands, I brought them down to his skull, hard enough to make him stagger.
It was so real that if I closed my eyes, I could see the Joker’s face, just inches away from me. It persisted, "But you hear it, don't you?"
Hear what?
"The real you, buried under the floorboards, scratch, scratch, scratching to get out. The one who knows how useless you really are."
I shook my head, no, not this time. Ain't no slick fella in a cheap suit, with a creepy smile, gonna be telling me, who I am anymore. Snap out of it Harley.
Elbows back, my fingernails dug at the bullet holes in my back, breaking me from my psychotic trance. Even with the bastard out of my head, I still felt haunted by him, but the Omniverse gave me a place away from the madman. Separated from the pressures of his suffering, it gave me new found freedom. I'd be damned if I was gonna give that up now.
With the angel on my right, we rose simultaneously to face our adversaries. I didn't know what I anticipated, coming to Desmond’s Defense, but whatever it was, I didn't like getting fucking shot! It was time to step my game up if I wanted to win, or even make it out of here alive.
Looking to my partner, I couldn't be more pleased with my paring, bitch was tough, and I liked tough. Our opponents, on the other hand, were even more overwhelming.
The pint-sized sharpshooter stood a few yards away, bleeding at the mouth from my knee. Who did this snake eyed bitch think she was looking at? She had murder in her eyes, but I just giggled. "What's a matter sweet cheeks? Cat got your tongue?"
The cloaked competitor growled as she spat out a back molar, and flashed her bloody fangs. Yikes, I thought and asked my partner, "You got this?"
"Certainly," Jibril said, materializing her scythe again. With a sparkle in her eye, the angel grinned, that was all she needed to hear.
"Oh no you don't!" the female marksman shouted and aimed in my direction, but thankfully she was interrupted. Forced to maneuver back, she dodged a life-threatening blow from my heavenly guardian.
I trusted my partner could handle the short stack of a tyrant. As a result, I got quality one on one time with the most absurdly handsome man I have ever seen. In a blink of an eye, I was on top of him, swinging Goodnight like Babe Ruth in the bottom the ninth, with bases loaded.
Gil-farts saw right through me though, lunged away, pivoted to the side, and raised his metal arm to block my bat. With a flash, the impact forced both of us backward.
Embracing the momentum, I tumbled back, landed on my hands, and spurred myself upright. Man, I hate magic types, always have, and I think it's because, to me, it's like they’re cheating. I say that because, right before I could hit him again, he made me float like a feather, right over his stupid ginger head. At this rate, we were going nowhere, and my mind raced to come up with an effective strategy.
Landing on my feet, I wasted no time, bounding at him, but again, floated right over him with the same magic as before. This time I spun around, aimed my bat squarely at the brute’s head and threw Goodnight as hard as I could. The bat made contact, but in a flash of light, it disintegrated.
The second Goodnight exploded, I had both revolvers in my hands, ready to fire. Distracted, a fusillade of bullets decorated the hunk’s chest in splatters of red. Other than the blood seeping down and through the bandages wrapped around his abdomen, you really couldn't tell if the wizard was affected. In fact, the brute kinda just stood there, unimpressed, and with his arms folded across his chest.
His smug little face really made my blood boil. Again, I assailed him hard with a barrage of kicks and punches, each one making contact against flesh or titanium. Unfortunately for me, Gildarts found an opening in my onslaught and struck my chest. After hurtling through the air, I hit the ground hard and blood from my gashes made me slide like a penguin on ice.
Not giving up now, I somersault towards him, and with my hands planted firmly on the ground, I wrapped my legs around his shoulders. With his face in my crotch, this was the closest he was going to get without taking me to dinner. I curled my body up, legs firmly encircled around his neck and with pistols in both hands, I brought them down to his skull, hard enough to make him stagger.
Quote:Jibril used "Angelic Scythe"
Gildarts used "Parry", "Shatter"
Harley used "Chemical Insanity" 5-1-5-4, "Goodnight", "Double Chiappa Rhino 60DS Revolvers"
![[Image: harley-quinn-arkham-city-gif-7.gif]](http://www.cytokineindustries.com/chevereto/images/2018/06/05/harley-quinn-arkham-city-gif-7.gif)