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1x1 with Robert Miller
1x1 Robert Miller World to Explore: Not specified Harley had met a fair few serial killers in her time - she’d even been with one. Then in a way he captured his audience in a way that was far worse than a serial killer. It was the first label you’d place on the maniacal Clown Prince of Crime, and it wasn’t a label Harley wore with pride either. The things that made a mind fall off the wagon of normalcy had always been intriguing to her. But Gotham was Gotham. You’d struggle to find worse people anywhere else, maybe not by a body count but by the amount of sick and twisted thinking that took place on the streets. One alley was even nicknamed after the number of crimes that took place there on a nightly basis.
She heard screams, shouts, the sounds of a mugging. It was usual, and she didn’t play goodie two shoes all the times, but there was no sign of the Bat coming out that night and she believed the male needed help. Flipping across the rooftops she watched from above. Of course this wasn’t a simple robbery, this was Gotham. It looked messy, and the male took off. Swinging down the steps, not touching the area, she took after him. Her red and black outfit only half blending into the shadows. If she’d have been spotted most cops would have put two and two together no matter how unlike her the scene was. She’d be a target and Harley needed that to stop now.
β Ya know if ya gonna leave ‘em there ya gonna get me into some right trouble. I ain’t going back t’ Arkham fer somethin’ that weren’t me. β
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