2012-11-30 Three Shades of Crazy

How does a wanted criminal walk right on into Arkham Asylum with a visitor badge on her jacket? Turns out all it takes is having a PhD in psychiatry. Who knew! Enter the good Doctor Quinzel, heeled feet clacking across the hardened floors with individual reports that carry down the aged, narrowed corridors. Of course she had to have an armed escort to get from point A to point B, but as a doctor that specializes in the criminally insane, she still gets to play the doctor-patient confidentiality card for a little one on one session with Arkham's most famous bent mind. Gotta love legal loopholes!

Today's going to be -wonderful.-

"Thank you, sir. See you in fifteen." Fifteen minutes is hardly enough time for a proper session, though most people only get the proverbial five minutes of fame. She'll take what she can get. Right now, she can get quite a bit.

Remember, kids. She's a professional.

As soon as their privacy is guaranteed, Harley's demeanor changes, ever so slightly. Truth of the matter is, she's spent some time away from The Joker. Her sanity has started to come back to her. Logic, reasoning, her very senses... It's gradual, but still rather disorienting. And yet, here she is, once more.

"How are we feeling today, Mister Jay?"

Professional. Collected. Much more like she used to be.

The room is a familiar one, he's been here hundreds... no thousands of times before. When Harley walks in, Joker's laying back on the therapist's couch, legs crossed at the ankles, arms neatly tucked across his chest in a straight jacket. "Harley! You came to say hello." He giggles faintly, his head flicking upwards instantly to watch her entrance. "Oh you know -- the usual. My back hurts, my nose itches..." His already painfully broad grin stretches even wider, "Insane." His giggles turn into a cackle, and he sits up fully on the couch.

"There's something different about you... Did you do something with your hair?" He tilts his head slightly to the side, watching her with a smile, "Oh I know!" In an instant, he's on his feet, growling in her face, his cheerful mood replaced with a seething rage, "You're going sane!"

Funny how a man that can make an entire city tremble in fear fails to do so with this one woman. When her real name is used, Harley looks down to the nametag that she's been given with the slightest of smirks. "Rachel, today." She couldn't risk anyone positively identifying her while making her grand visitation, after all! That would put a significant dent in her plans.

With you suddenly standing nose to nose with her she slowly rolls her head to one side, gazing into your eyes. "And how does that make you feel?" she inquires in a lower, downright husky sounding tone. "I will admit, life has been very different with you enjoying your vacation. Things have been a lot ..more peaceful."

Dull.

"Relaxing..."

Boring.

"Normal, yes."

-Sane.-

"But, we're here to talk about you and not me. I understand that you've been seeing some ..other..doctors... Unfortunately, I do not have their notes. So, we'll have to backtrack slightly. How about telling me where you're at, what thoughts have been passing through your mind lately?"

Oh how he loves that she doesn't even flinch. Even as Harley thinks what she really means, Joker states it out loud, "That's sounds boring." He slants his head to mimic her motion, his anger gone in an instant, replaced with his broad grin and humor, "They were boring, too, unfortunately. Not like you, Harls..." The end trails off into a whisper, sinister to most ears, especially with that unnatural grin on his face. He stops, though, turning and wandering off, recounting with a casual tone, "Though there was one... She lasted three whole sessions!" He stops, looking over his shoulder, back to Harley, musing, "I hear she's staying in a padded cell on the east wing, now... I should visit her some day." With a giddy peal of laughter, he flops back onto the couch and kicks up his feet, eyes locked on her.

Is it weird that deep down inside, Harley is utterly convinced that you would never actually harm her..?

Delusional.

Convinced. That grin is so familiar, so ..comforting..? In a way? Despite the lapse of time, her gradual reintegration into a normal, civilized life, there's a part of her heart that breaks the instant you spin around and turn your back to her. Rejected. Cast aside like yesterday's news.

We've worked through this, Harley. The effect this man has on you..? Remember?

Oh my, she remembers. She remembers the rush, the tingly glee, the care-free nature that followed being by your side. In your shadow. Following your wake.

Harley gently clears her throat. This never had been an official visit. She's not here to be a real shrink. She's here for personal reasons, and those alone.

"We all find ways of entertaining ourselves. Such as you and your habit for going through other psychiatrists. Three days, really? Good job."

Wait. Waitwaitwait. Where did that come from..? Harley, FOCUS.

"And how did it feel..when you broke her..drove her over the edge, condemned her to the east wing. Any remorse..? Regret?"

Something else?

-Anything- else.

"Thank you, it was a new personal best."

Joker's eyes never move from Harley, watching her, waiting for the visible crack he knows is waiting under the surface. Once he sees it, it's just a matter of delicately placing a metaphorical chisel, picking up the metaphorical mallet, and...


 * WHAM!*

"Remorse? Regret?" Joker mulls this over for a bit, thinking it through, before his laughter bubbles forth and grows into a maniacal crescendo, reverberating off the walls, "Of course not! I had the time of my life!" He giggles some more, sitting up abruptly, "Hey, Harls... You remember that time, with the jewelry store, and the whoopie cushion?"

Twitch. Smirk. Flatline. Snicker.

Grin.

"Ooooh my gooood, the look on his -faaaace-..!"

Cracked like a piece of thrown China.

Harley covers her mouth to try and stifle the laughter that she knows is coming but it's not enough. Not nearly enough. "That guy..that poor idiot, he didn't know what to worry about first..! -Hah!-"

There stands the proud woman known as Harley Quinn. Professionalism out the window. Laughing herself to tears. "And then he..and he couldn't..it was -hilarious!-"

Stop. Composure returns. What is she doing?

She's -laughing.- For the first time in ages, she's having FUN. And my, oh my, does it feel goooood.

"I still have the sound he made on my phone." Sniff. "Oh Jay, the world out there -sucks.- Nothing exciting ever happens! Talking to people just doesn't have its charm anymore, buncha grown folk flappin' their gums, no one ever -does anything.-"

Thank god for doctor-patient confidentiality.

Ding, ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!

Joker sits up isntantly, giggling and cackling along with Harley, adding in the occasional tid-bit she may have forgotten, before he flat breaks into histerics. It takes him a few seconds longer then her to stop laughing, and even when he does, it mostly just dies down into a quiet snicker.

"Harley-poo, I know, I know... But good ol' Mister Jay is going to change that soon enough." He stands again, struggingling against his straight jacket for all of ten seconds before his arms come loose and he holds them out to his side, "Come here and I'll tell ya' all about it."

There's the laughter! Pure, genuine -cackling.- It's infectious, awakening parts of Harley's brain that she had tried so dearly to suppress. When she had the mind to do it. Admittedly, that didn't happen all that often. Moments later she's pawing furiously at her eyes, almost missing your show of getting your arms out of your very own hug-me jacket. "Now puddin,' you know they're gonna suspect that I was helping you out of that if they see you this way when they return!"

Speaking of, she does a quick glance to her watch. Bad news if they walk back in while she's busy laughing away alongside you. But, there's still time! She drops down beside you on the couch, arms and legs shooting straight out in front of her as she flops down with so much youthful energy. Just as easily her ankles cross beneath her and her hands fold neatly in her lap, sitting upright and all proper-like. It's story time! And ..y'know. She's enthralled like a crazy lady and all. "Whatcha got, Jay? Am I gonna get to see more of ya soon? If I'm this bored for much longer I'm gonna hafta-stab-abitch..."

"I might do that anyway." Shrug.

Joker's grin stretches and he kicks back on the couch, laying his feet on Harley's lap while he looks up at the ceiling, his hands behind his head. "Don't be ridiculous, Harley, I get out of these things /all/ the time," he replies in reference to her concern about the straight-jacket. "In a couple of days, I'm gonna' be on laundry duty..." He continues on, recounting a plan that holds up to the Joker tradition of being far crazier then necessary.

"And then ta-da! I just walk right on outta' this joint... Any questions?"

Through this all, Harley sits there and listens like you're telling her and her alone the secrets of life, the universe, and everything. Planning, plotting, even a little bit of scheming, the strong and well-educated mind within the lone woman comes up with lots of thoughts along the way. Lots!

Unfortunately, she's way too lost to recall any of them or why they're good points to make by the time things wrap up to the Q and A portion of your speech.

"Just one, sweetums. Should I dye my hair black and red..or red and black?"

Of course, she's completely missing the point. You have a plan to get out of this place! An instant later she practically teleports from sitting beside you to having her arms and a leg around you, kissing your cheek. "That's gonna be the best day -ever!- We can go back to hangin' out... And doin' stuff... And startin' fires... And killin' guys! And ordering Chinese. But not from that place on thirtieth because -damn- those guys for not giving me my fortune cookie."

"That's a stupid question!" Joker fumes, "Weren't you listening to /anything/ I said?! Black and red of course, otherwise you'll blow the whole scheme!"

His rage dies immediately, his permanent grin breaking out even wider, "Oh, oh! I've got a great idea, Harley, why don't we set fire to the place on thirtieth? With everyone inside! You know I've always been a multi-tasker." As she places her arms around him, Joker cackles, wrapping his arms around her and standing, his straight-jacket completing the utterly insane image. "I've missed you, Harls. Nobody can really laugh like you do." He spins her around the room once, stopping just by the door, and he pulls his face close to her's, murmuring, "You know what time it is?" A short pause, before he cackles, inches from her nose, shouting, "Time for you to take a hike!"

And then he shoves her backwards at the door.

Harley confirms it with a snapping of fingers. "Black and red, of course!" Then, looking wounded, she declares "-Course- I was listenin,' ya handsome lug. With the laundry duty and the clothes and the mixture and the sparking and all."

When you pick her up off of her feet all she can do is squeal in delight, latching onto the straps of your oh so fashionable jacket. "Set fire to the restaurant? That seems a bit excessive, duncha think? Why spend all that money on gasoline when I can gather roaches for free! They're not serving cookies there to -anyone- these days. Self-absorbed bastards," she adds in a dark tone. "Plus I cut on the guy that worked the counter a coupla times."

"No..what time is it, Mistah Jay?"

THUD.

Slammed back to the door with her arms outspread, Harley gives you a downright sultry grin with a dark-eyed stare as the door starts getting unbolted from behind. One air-kiss in your direction later and she's right back to being her professional doctor persona.

"Miss, are you okay?"

"Stand back from her, you lunatic!"

"Oh my..I do believe we've had a bit of a breakthrough today..! I'm alright," she states while adjusting her hair back into place. "Everything's okay here, gentlemen, thank you."

Harley passes one more glance your way, a knowing look lurking within. "I will see you again soon, Mister Jay."

Joker simply stands and grins at Harley, broad and twisted, as the guards come in, forcing him to the ground. As they struggle to re-strap the straight-jacket, he begins to giggle, which quickly escalates into a snicker, then a chuckle, shifting quickly into cackle, before it's a full out, bone-chilling laugh.

"hehehahahhehHehAhahaHEhaHEHAHEAHAHAHHAHAAHAAAHAHAHA!"