Summary:Harley's free, so of course who does she see? Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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Harley Quinn dropped Poison Ivy Funko Pop.
Between giving talks for universities on environmental awareness and working with the government to clean up the Disaster Zone as part of her "deal," Doctor Pamela Isley (aka Poison Ivy) has been pretty respectable as of late. Currently, she's sipping tea in her little private grotto in the Disaster Zone, unwinding after a long day of improvised terraforming and cleanup.
But it beats robbing banks. Really. No, really.
Doctor Harleen Frances Quinzel has been a bit absent of late. After her recent release from prison (who on earth thought it was a good idea to charge Harley as not guilty by reason of mental defect? But it happened.) she has been complying with mandated community service and other terms of her relatively strict parole. So she's not been a particularly visible figure in Pamela's life. Today, this changes.
Clutchign something behidn her back in both hands Harley prances giddily through the plants, skipping on the third step. At one point, she's about to plant a foot but then she stops herself, staring downward. "Oh! Excuse me, Mr. Dandelion! Sorry!" There's a giggle and she hops over the errant weed and continues on her way.
"Pamelaaa! Oh, Pamela!" Harley calls as she wandder,s searching the disaster zone with a wide-eyed azure stare. She's in civilian clothes, a short-sleeved white blouse, blue jeans, blonde hair in pig tails tipped in pink and blue. "Hey, RED! Get out here! I want to show you somefin'!"
Of course, Harley is mere meters from the grotto when she starts shouting. She must be lost.
*PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFT* Tea sprays outward at the shout of "Hey RED!" from Harley, as Pam was… not expecting visitors. Particularly her favorite visitor, even if she might not always admit it. Coughing a bit, she stands up and waves towards Harley. "Over here, Harley."
Now she's grinning, tilting her head as she makes her way out of the grotto, emerging right behind Harley as she says a quiet, "Boo," towards the blonde.
Harley squeals as the 'boo' sends her straight into the air, limbs akimbo. THe blonde flails once or twice, then lands on her butt. The object she was clutching flies right out of her hands and skitteers across the ground. It appears to be a manila envelope. Doe-like blue eyes blink up at the redhead for a long second and Harley slowly climbs to her feet, burshing herself off as she goes. "There you are! I wanted to show you something…" Those eys track the progress of the envelope, but Harley doesn't move for now, facing Poison Ivy from the ground. "How's tricks, Red?"
Ivy grins, "Being respectable and law-abiding is not nearly as fun as you might think. But it beats wearing an orange jumpsuit all day." She offers Harley a hand, tossing her a wink, "How about you, Harley? It's… been a while."
Meanwhile, a vine slips around the errant envelope, hustling it back over to Harley so she can take it back.
"I've been doing really well. It's been hard since Mr. J—— you-know-who- left, but I mean. I's good. I'm doing real good. Thanks." Harley offers Ivy a shy smile, and when the vine comes up behind her she turns to take the envelope into both hands. "Oh! Thank you," the blonde chirps cheerfully. She then turns to opening up her prize. Slowly.
A moment later Ivy is presented with a stack of documents and the world's widest, most foolish grin. "So! Read it, read it, read it!"
Should Ivy take a close look she'll see that these are the minutes of a doctor's appointment. It reads:
And so it is my opinion as Dr. Quinzel's therapist that she is capable of operating in society with minor supervision, being on the road to a proper recovery. While she is still unstable…"
The last line is circled in red sharpie: " I believe that, absent the influence of her previous enablers, Dr. Quinzel should be able to return to society for short periods.
Dr. Patrick T. Sye"
"Soo… What do you think, Red?" Harley takes a deep dramatic breath before pronouncing triumphantly, "I'm CURED!"
Pamela mmhmms and reads, and reads, and reads, chuckles rather dryly, then blinks and looks over at Harley, "Well, I'm not sure that I'd go that far, Harley… but you're definitely better without him in your life." She grins at Harley, not wanting to rain on her parade as she says, "I'm very proud of you, Harls." And she means it, too.
Though then Harley gets a curious look, as Ivy then asks, "So… what're you going to do? I don't think they're gonna let you practice again, are they?" Though her lips quirk in a wicked expression at the thought of that.
"…No, I asked bu they said they were worried it would be detrimental for the health of my patients. Whatever *that* means." Harley pouts at this ,but then she bounces once, hopping to her feet without so much as the use of her hands. "Sooo. I was thinking that we could celebrate a little! Maybe we could go SHOPPING?! Please please please. My favourite holiday of the whole year is coming up and we're not ready at *all*! No decorations or nothin'." Harley gestures broadly to their surroundings as she adds, "I mean, the post-apocalypse goes back to Mother Nature vibe is great but we at least need some thorn monsters and ghosts and stuff. Maybe we can do a Haunted House!"
Pamela smiles, "Alright alright, we can definitely go shopping… and why would I want to decorate without you here to help? You wound me, Harley." She hmmms, "Besides, it isn't like I'm not going to be able to acquire pumpkins. But you're driving, I don't have a car… unless we rope one of my government minders into driving us around." Her lips quirk into a wicked smirk at the thought of that.
"Then let's GO!" Harley reaches out to take Pamela's left hand in to both of hers and strarts pulling. Regardless of whether or not the redhead resists her blonde companion's insistence that they take off. At once. She can't seem to stop grinning the whole while. But really, for once, who could blame her?