1x1 Smile Like A Rifle

World to Explore: Nolanverse

Harley had been counting down the days. They’d locked her away once they’d realised what she’d done. They had labelled it disgracing her name but the laughter on lips made it obvious she’d disagreed. If anything ?? She’d found herself, the taste of the metal bars on her door had become a sensation she was used to as no one dared to even push her food through the window as the last male who had tried had lost his finger in the process. They hadn’t believed that she would find a way to break out, but a bobby pin, a shoelace and a creative mind meant that anything was possible. He’d granted her the power to do what she wished with the luxury of not caring about the consequences. Such a mind was dangerous at the best of times, but in Gotham City, that mindset was lethal.

The once young and inspiring Dr. Harleen Quinzel, the blonde haired blue-eyed bombshell of the therapy team at Arkham was no more. The madness infested her mind, and she had fallen hopelessly down the rabbit hole for him and she couldn’t wait for him to see it. First, though, she had to get out of the hellhole. Luckily, despite his escape the security routine hadn’t changed since her codes had been valid. Just a few sweet words and a promise of the world and had her main guard under her spell. It almost hurt, flirting with another but she was sure he’d understand — the guard couldn’t keep them apart for long and he simply wouldn’t be alive long enough to tell the tale. Her psychiatric training allowed her to spin a web of wonder and desire, warp the male’s mind into giving her a hand and soon enough she had her keys in hand.

Just another weapon at her disposal as the door clicked open, at her request. She thanked him, pressing her lips to his cheek, printing a lipstick mark. A small distraction from the key jabbed straight into his eye, left hanging on the chain for good measure. Alarms echoed through the Asylum as Harley broke into a run, fighting her way out. It didn’t take much, they underestimated her. The petty little wannabe she’d been would never have thought to do this and they still thought that shrink of a girl was still locked away. With several bodies cascaded on the floor around her, Harley walked out of Arkham. Running her blood stained hand through her hair she caught her reflection in a smashed up car window. She barely recognised herself but the red looked good on her, and she reminded herself to sort herself out. She needed a new look to fit how she felt before greeting him once more on his grandest stage yet. Harley simply hoped she was a face he wanted to see.

♢♦️♢

Heading back to her apartment, Harley knew there would be nothing there for her now. At least not in terms of possessions. A bright red lipstick and a barely used eyeliner were the only items Harley needed from that old life. The clothing was useless in it’s own right but the fabric itself had potential. She’d never attempted to sew her own clothes together but anything to raise attention to herself. Harley wanted her grand entrance to be by his side, not by robbing the local mall. It took time, a few tweaks and many try ons but eventually it was all in place. In front of the mirror, a red and black corset, and matching shorts that were probably too short from all the edits clung to every curve the female had. Black and red hockey socks just brushed her knees whilst mismatching two pairs of converse in her wardrobe finished off the look, alternating the red and black down to her feet. The dried blood still in her hair still needed attention, but using her own bathroom was too risky and so another plan came to mind. A quick shower, and a change back into some civilian clothing the blonde left her apartment for the last time.

A handful of hair dyes and a few ideas in mind, a redundant public bathroom saw the birth of Harley Quinn. As the red and black hair dye ruined her bleach blonde she couldn’t help but laugh at her reflection. Harleen would have cried, questioned everything but Harley knew this was the right move to make. The clothes she’d made were taken out of the backpack she’d used and placed onto the side until the dye had settled and washed through. The bright red was striking but a complete contrast to the black on the other side. She swapped her clothes and dumped the backpack in the bathroom. A bright red lip, and she thought she was ready. One final glance in the reflection and her glasses didn’t match, didn’t work. She carefully swapped them out for her contacts, almost stinging her eyes as they were placed. Now she was definitely ready.

♢♦️♢

She raced over just in time to hear his welcome speech. Harley listened carefully trying to shuffle her way through the crowd that had gathered. Unfortunately, this was too high profile to just kill them on sight now, plus they could always be useful in other ways. As she got closer the crowds dispersed. “ Aww, ya makin’ a walkway for me, how kind of you mista’ !! ” She took a step closer towards him, running her hand along his wrist, taking his Rolex as her prize, and a present for the Joker.

Her heart was banging inside her chest as he came into view and he had certainly pulled out his best for is grand opening. She grinned at him with a small courtesy. “ What d’ya think o’ the makeover puddin’ ?? ” A little spin round and she was by his side, breathing him in once more. “ It ain't too far is it ?? I just thought, well, I thought you’d like it more than the preppy little princess !! I gotcha a present !! ” She dangled the golden Rolex in front of him in the hope that he’d be distracted by it if she wasn’t going to like his answers.

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