O Harley, Where Art Thou?

[The Joker]

Players: Joker and Poison Ivy [later Harley]
Location(s): All over Gotham's landscape
Plot Summary: Joker has lost his Harley and only that treacherous plant woman can be behind this!

The Joker was in his private bathroom, shirtless naturally, with a lanky leg propped up on his porcelain bathtub. Both of his purple pant legs were rolled up to the thigh as he leaned over his bent knee with his tongue peeking out between his red lips. His foot on the tub tapped to a beat running Joker's head while his hand carefully worked the razor that was shaving his long pasty leg. Joker was a particularly well kempt man and he kept pride in his body not being messily hair. The only hair he cared to keep was the lush locks of green sitting atop his head, everything else was shaved away.

Usually it was Harley's duty to do the shaving, but it wasn't that strange for Joker to do it himself. Right now he didn't feel like looking for her and she hadn't been sitting around latched onto him when he decided it was time for a shave so there he was; doing Harley's work for her. When he was done Joker discarded the razor in the empty sink and ran a hand over his now smooth appendage. With a large grin stretched on his face Joker whistled a cat call at his own colorless legs.

Moments later he burst from the bathroom in nothing but a towel. "Time for the bikini wax, Harley!" He shouted with a great big smile. It was the woman's favorite part, he wasn't so cruel as to deprive her of that. But instead of the usual girlish squeal of excitement Joker was met by stiff silence and an awkward cough. The room before him was filled with his henchmen, but no Harley.

"Huh she's not here, boss." Joker blinked at the man who spoke, his lips parting slowly. "What?" The henchmen shifted in his seat and straightened up a bit. "She's not here. Harley hasn't been around for...almost two weeks now. Aint ya notice, boss?" "WHAT!?"

[/b] No he hadn't noticed, he didn't pay much attention to Harley when there were so many much more important things to do. Harley was always there under him or glued to his side anyway, why would he need to keep track? Joker hurled his razor back into the bathroom and slammed the door shut before snatching his towel off and marching to his office to get dressed.

Harley would never leave without his permission, she was his and his alone, she lived to please him. It could be annoying at times and Joker often used force against her but she was still his girl. There was only one person who existed who would want Harley away from Joker and actually have the gull to coerce poor little Harls into abandoning him.

Once he was dressed and had his men amassed before him Joker looked them over with a horrid grimace on his face. "Ivy."[/b] He spoke the single word with every ounce of hatred he carried poured inside of it. "That tree-hugging, fertilizer-licking, Harley-stealing, redheaded bimbo! She thinks just because she has her own city now that she can take things that don't belong to her?! I want you boys to go to Bludhaven, take as many matches and cans of gas that you can, and give Pammy a message. You don't steal from Joker without a few incinerated loved ones!"[/b][/blockquote]

[Poison Ivy]

The monsters made it thirty yards into Pamela's oasis amid the ashes of Bludhaven. They had started fires that had turned a whole city block of her growing domain to ash. Their painted faces were enough to condemn the Clown, but what sealed his fate was the threat that the leader of the henchmen delivered. The Joker's message enraged Poison Ivy so much that she couldn't even enjoy herself when she watched the henchman's legs be eaten away by acid, his upper half free to writhe in agony. The Clown thought that he could reach his disgusting, bony, pale little arm into her new home without consequences?

Hell hath no fury.

Poison Ivy couldn't risk leaving Eve, not when it was just a fresh blossom. Her presence was necessary, even if the trick she was about to pull would mean that her body lay, as if in a coma, at the heart of New Bludhaven. Pamela arrayed defenses around herself in her own private garden, and curled up on a bed of flowers on an island in a toxic pool. All was set for her... foray. Poison Ivy closed her eyes, and left her body. Reaching out through the green, Pamela's power hurtled like an emerald comet through every root, leaf, blossom and branch, all the way to Gotham City.

Finding the Joker was no difficulty. His henchmen had been wearing the pollen from a certain kind of tree that was very rare in the city. Cross-reference that with the likely hideouts of the freak, and you got one dilapidated warehouse. "Here we are." The strip of barren earth on one side of the warehouse's cracked parking lot whispered the words while roots extended like tentacles from the parched soil. With an eerie, terrifying grace a shape began to rise from below, slowly unveiling what looked scarily like Poison Ivy herself.

Rather than skin - even of an emerald hue - this marionette for her power had sinuous bark for skin. The plants that sprouted from the mannequin's head looked startlingly like Pamela's actual auburn locks. Leaves and vines curled over her legs, forearms and torso to forge her usual green attire. Instead of eyes, the nymph had empty sockets filled with rings of fungi that shone like acidic green eyes. The mouth spread in an evil smirk, showing rows of interlocking thorns in the form of jagged teeth. "I may not be able to exercise as much power at a distance," the creature said in a many-layered imitation of Ivy's sultry voice, "but I only need a splinter to kill the Clown."

The personification of Poison Ivy's power curled its knobby, twig-like fingers, and walked with bizarre elegance across the parking lot. Brambles and thorns sprouted in her wake, and the film of dry, dead vines that covered many of the warehouse's walls shivered. Waking from a frigid slumber as Mother Nature breathed fresh life, fresh malice, fresh hatred into their lengths.

[The Joker]

The message had been delivered, Joker was sure of it. How was Joker so sure of it? His henchclown Slappy had never returned. Of course the clown knew that by sending someone into Pammy's territory it was essentially sending a man to his grave early. Joker didn't care about his henchman, none of them really; he'd killed tons himself, the only important thing was that Ivy got his message loud and clear. Too long had that plant loving fire crotch been interfering with him and his Harley-kins. When was Poison Ivy going to get it in her thick, tree bark skull that Harley was his and not hers to play with! Harley was Joker's toy and he did not share with others.

He didn't care how much of Ivy's land burned or even if it the fires managed to get set or not, either way he knew she would not take kindly to his attack and would have to retaliate. If not well then Joker was going to send her messages every day until she did. The only way to keep her from getting between him and his property (ie Harley) was to finally kill her. "That's a neat trick."

[/b] The Joker commented as he stared through the parted blinds of his warehouse window. Outside he witnessed the ground quiver and crack wide open like the womb parting to give birth to an ugly woodland creature. From the distance it didn't appear to be the woman he wanted but it most definitely was some sort of agent of hers. And it looked pissed!

Joker giddily ran from the window and straight to a large oak wardrobe. The Joker flung the double doors open and out spilled an onslaught of fake flowers, joy buzzers, bazookas, cherry bombs, guns, and chatter teeth. "Mother nature wants a fight, then she'll get one!"[/b] The clown laughed to himself before collecting all the essential equipment he'd need. The goons were sent home early so none of the henchclowns would be getting in the way, that meant it was a rumble between only Joker and Poison Ivy.

The door to his hideout flew open and Joker jumped out with a murderous grimace on his face. In his hands were two bombs with the fuses already lit and burning down, over his chest was an umpire vest with a hastily painted purple target over his heart, and hanging from his belt were an assorted of various colored water balloons jiggling about. "Glad you could make it tonight, Pammy. How's the family? Oh and burn in hell! ha ha HAHA!"[/b] With a ragged smile on his face Joker hurled both bombs at the Ivy puppet.[/blockquote]

[Poison Ivy]

Poison Ivy was prepared for the unexpected. You never went against the Clown without thinking on your toes and survive the encounter. Pamela knew also that she was coming with a severe handicap. Her power might have been able to extend all the way from New Bludhaven to Gotham, but it took ultimate concentration to keep up, and her options were limited. The more that Ivy tried to do at this distance, personified through her spriggan avatar as she was, the more difficult it was to maintain her ties. Still... the Clown didn't know that. And on the off-chance that he got lucky, it's not like she would sustain any physical injury because of it.

The botanist was prepared as she walked across the cracked pavement of the parking lot. She would force entry into the Joker's hovel and pump his veins full of so much toxin that even his tolerance would be tested. Poison Ivy was expecting a fight, to be true, but not as abruptly as it happened. Rather than flinching, or anything of the sort, when the grinning ghoul burst forth from his lair, Mother Nature's puppet just paused in her step. Her eyes flared even more murderously, then the Joker hocked both bombs.

There was an explosion more of upturned earthen debris than of fire, and Poison Ivy was obscured momentarily from view. Through the veil of dust, first the two beacon-like, acid green irises pierced. One moment spread where nothing more on the botanist's end happened, and then turmoil. A volley of brown, vicious roots struck like cobras, surging from the wall of airborne dirt towards the Clown. "I should have done this a long time ago," her voice rang out in that surreal, multi-layered growl.

Poison Ivy strutted amid the flurry of striking tendrils, dust trailing from her limbs and streaking her auburn locks. The mannequin's twiggy fingers unfurled from being clenched in fists, and grew to points, so that each palm held five, long daggers extending from them. "You made a mistake attacking my home, Joker. Now? You won't get the chance to make another."