2013.09.25 - Dueling Banjos

It's a dark night in Gotham. Which goes without saying, because it's night, and it's Arkham. But mostly because it's night. And night is dark. A place where grim and dark things happen. 
At night. 
Music echoes across Lake Arkham. A ghostly lament? The lingering strains of spirits gone by, of the dead inmates wailing their madness? 
"Sure, he's nuts," Deadpool says to Harley, where she's strapped to him with a tandem harness. "But he's a supervillain. I'm a super /hero/. And what's the difference between a hero and a villain?" 
The opening riffs to 'Welcome to the Jungle' start echoing, and it becomes apparent that Deadpool's hang gliding, with Harley strapped to his chest. They're both in a paraglider, and it's loaded with more ordnance than an F-16. They come in under the light of the moon, and just as the music gets to that great opener around 00:39 seconds in, Deadpool cuts loose with about ten missiles, aimed all at the wall of Arkham. 
"The difference is... PRESENTATION!!!!" he screams as the walls, the walls go tumblin' down.
What has Harley been up to since her escape full of derring-do with a certain masked mercenary? Well, the usual: feeding people to her babies, hitting up jewelry stores, sawing off a woman's ankles because she really, really wanted those boots but was beaten to the sale. But she'd been more moody, mopey, and her pigtails much more wilty of late. Why? Because it just wasn't the SAME without TWO clowns!
So Harleen Quinzel had decided that her on-again, off-again relationship with the Joker was back on. These breakups, they never last.
And that's how she ended up strapped to a harnass with a guy in a hang-glider as they attacked one of the most structurally-sound (and oft-rebuilt) prisons in the world. "Eh! Who needs heroes anyway, amirite? Bunch'a bullies, that's all they are!" Quinn says this with a white-knuckled grip on the harness holding her to Deadpool, clinging like a baby koala and trying not to look TOO hard at the ground. "But more seriously, Poolie-Oolie-O..."
"WHY COULDN' WE COME IN A REGULAH PLANE!?!?" She screeches, bapping him on the head. Well, probably because planes had more than one seat and he wouldn't have gotten to strap them together. Also, they never did get around to getting her that healing factor. So she certainly hoped their landing would involve more landing than crashing, even as the night sky lights up with alarms and spotlights.
"Couldn' go subtle, could we? Now they gonna call tha national guard!"
-Boom!-
Heh... Heheh... Heehehehehee!"
As the alarms start going off courtesy of Deadpool and Co., the guards inside start scrambling for weapons and riot gear, preparing to rebuff whatever the hell just exploded the outside wall of Arkham. Spotlights swing wildly about the perimeter, desperetely searching the grounds for the intruders, never once even thinking to look up towards the sky. Inside every inmate is instantly and roughly rounded up and escorted under armed guard back to their cells, while some of the more dangerous inmates who are never allowed out of their cells suddenly find themselves joined by a slew of trained professionals.
And then there are the special cases. One special case to be precise. The one man who's cell is not only removed from general population by ten feet of concrete, but who can't even be allowed a light bulb lest he go on a rampage and kill half the people inside. In seconds his cell is swarmed by the top security personnel in the facility, the only way in or out through at least twenty of the most heavily armed guards for miles.
The Joker glances up from his straightjacket, flashing everyone of them a broad and truly blood-chilling grin.
"Oh boy! Is it time for my sponge bath?"
Gotham is so bad that it wraps around to funny, sometimes. Amethyst has been in the city like a grand total of four times, counting the month she went to school here in sixth grade. She didn't have time to form a proper opinion of the city then, especially after she and her mom had to skip town to avoid being prosecuted. She didn't mean to break that kid's arm, but he had a knife and it just seemed like the best response.
Times two, three, and four, though, wow. Gotham really unfolds its lameness for adult viewers. It really blows that the city is so filled with magic that there's always a reason to come back.
"Maybe," Amethyst posits, finishing her coke with no ice because fast food ice machines are disgusting, "it's the magic that makes this place suck so bad."
Amethyst's flying unicorn whinnies. Of course she's on a flying unicorn. Being down in the street would be worse. Last time she got close to the ground, a clown woman invited her to Thunderdome. She got shot. Never again.
"You're right, that's ridiculous."
Beneath her, the clouds light up with flashes of orange and yellow. Amethyst recognizes the dull thuds of explosions. Her expression sinks as the alarms begin. "I'm probably going to end up going down there," she says in a tiny, regretful voice.
"Chill out, amiga!" Deadpool says, affectionately headbutting Harley. Hard. "This was all I could rent on my Sears card. Besides, regular planes are boring! This has style! This has class!" 
"But it doesn't have /brakes/. Hey, so where did we land on that healing factor?" he asks, aiming the paraglider for the billowing smoke that hopefully conceals a new hole in the side of Arkham. 
The landing is- well, rough would be an understatement. Deadpool pretty much just crashes artlessly into an interior wall. A few guards get hit- no big deal. 
Dust forms a clinging haze, and from the smoke, a shadowy figure rises. 
"I am the terror that stalks the night," a husky, rasping voice says. The figure grows larger, sharp points making a well-known profile. I am the fly in your ointment. "I am he who walks the shadows." I am the fingernails on the chalkboard of justice! "I am not the hero this city needs but rather, the one... she deserves. I am...." 
"Batman!" one of the guards shouts in relief. There's a gunshot and he goes down squishily. 
"No, you /ass/, I'm DEADPOOL!" the Merc with the Mouth declares, coming out of the hazy dust, now covered in destroyed masonry. "Also I would have accepted a Darkwing Duck reference." He kicks another rushing guard in the mouth with an effortless circle of his foot and starts walking towards UltraSuperHyperMax security. "C'mon Harley, try to keep up," he calls over his shoulder, walking with a large, automatic weapon in each hand. "Killin' is my business, and today, we're having a half-price special on TWO FOR ONE ENTREES!"
Abuse. Thankfully she's used to it. Harley yelps and holds her head in her hands, suddenly seeing stars in her vision. She really needed to get away from violent men. But what would be the fun in that!? Oh right, not crashing into the sides of buildings. Riiiiight about the time she picks her vision up from between her palms, she spots the ground/buildings coming up at them at frightening speed.
"THIS IS MY STOP!" She wails, reaching up and unclipping the harness joints that kept her attached to the mercenary and his flying contraption right about the time they go plummeting into the building. She goes tumbling ass over tea kettle down the hall, and though she certainly has learned how to roll with the punches and tumble with the best of them, her buns end up smacking against the wall with a dull, aching thud as she winds up on head, arms splayed out, legs all akimbo up in the air. "Oy yoy yoy, I gotta start findin' better things to do on dates." With a grimace and a groan, rubbing her backside, she starts to get to her feet, and Deadpool's already killing people!
"Yeah, yeah, I'mma comin'... FORM KILLTRON!"
A cartwheel, a handspring, and a somersault later and the blonde psychopath is leaping right at Deadpool's head! Or rather, looking to land right on his shoulders, to squeeze his head with her thighs for purchase and level a good, ol' trusty AK model assault rifle at the guards in front of them. She even holds it sideways, gangsta style as she gleefully mows into their adversaries. "I get to be the head!"
So it might obscure his vision a little. He'd probably heal form any bullets he doesn't dodge! Probably.
MEANWHILE IN THE CELL OF VILLAINY!
The Joker stands from the corpse of the last guard, the bloody grenade pin still clamped between his teeth. With a turn of his head, he spits it out over to the charred remains of the three guards taken out by said grenade and begins to work his way over to a jagged piece of shrapnel embedded in the wall. As he steps over the corpses, he grimaces and winces, "Excuse me... Sorry... Pardon me... Oops, was that your face? Terribly sorry." He turns to begin sawing at his straightjacket with the shrapnel, when it comes loose from the wall, falls, and sinks three inches into the chest of the nearest body. With a slight giggle, Joker bends down and continues to saw away at the frayed cloth.
"Heeheheehe! This is so unlike me. I usually wait for the third date." Once he's finally free, he bends down and plucks the shrapnel from the corpse and begins skipping merrily down the hall, cackling gleefully.
"Alright, girl, take us in," Amethyst says without enthusiasm. She tosses her drink over her shoulder, taking the reins in both hands and hunkering down low. The unicorn tucks its legs up and folds its wings close to its body, dropping from the sky.
Amethyst knows this place. She moderated a superhero fan forum when she was thirteen. And when she was seventeen, though she wouldn't admit it by that point. Her first thought is that this is pretty much nowhere near her business and she's going to screw things up but--
Hey. She legit killed an angel last week. He probably deserved it, but still. What's she got to lose?
The unicorn snaps its wings open, coming to a sudden slow glide parallel to the destroyed wall. Amethyst rises, standing up in the stirrups as she raises her hands. With a series of arcane gestures, the destroyed portion of the prison begins to heal almost like a living thing. Stone and metal debris flows like liquid back into the wound, solidifying back into a sturdy wall once it is in place.
"Starting off pretty awwweeesoooomeee~" Amethyst singsongs.
"You know what I hate? When someone poses in media res," Deadpool remarks up to Harley as they form a two-headed juggernaut of destruction and go rampaging down the hallway. "Like when it's off panel. 'Oh lookit me, I'm a badass who killed the 20 highly trained guards from my previous pose'. Can you believe he doesn't even have any real reanks in hand to hand combat? And what's 'Squared Circle' or 'Beautiful Madness'? Those are stupid names for abilities," Deadpool says, casually shooting a guard in the head from like, seriously, fifty feet away on the fly. Left handed. /With/ Harley on him. And completely sensibly named abilities and advantages. 'cause SOME of us ACTUALLY HAVE combat skills. /Joker/. 
"I'ma gonna pop some tags, only got twenny dollahs in my poc-ket," Deadpool sings, off-tune. "Hey, you know who else I hate?" he asks, turning a corner with Harley hanging onto his head. "People who backstab their evil superiors by making plans to inevitably overthrow their autocracy. Man, that's annoying as hell." 
Deadpool frowns and turns in place. "Now, how did we get into the cafeteria?" he asks, finding himself in the middle of the cafeteria. "Hey, HeadTron," he says, jabbing Harley in the thigh with a smoking hot gun barrel. "I thought you were navigating, with the altitude and stuff."
As per usual, Quinn has zero idea what Deadpool is talking about. But if she asked he might start trying to EXPLAIN it to her again! And she was busy enough trying to shoot everything in her way while playing the worst game of human chicken ever to not try to decipher the madness coming out of his mouth. So she laughs, because it's like a joke, right? "Yeah, yeah, Whatevah you say, Poolie!"
They turn left! DAKKA DAKKA DAKKA. They turn right! DAKKA DAKKA DAKKA. They make a right THEN a left! DAKKA DAK-*CLICK*. Because bringing spare clips is for suckers, Harley tosses the automatic weapon over her shoulder and just hangs onto the mercenary by his hai- Mask. "This way! No, THAT way! Now HERE!"
"Ummmmm..." As often as she's been here, and WORKED here no less, you'd figure the pigtailed criminal would know her way around. But certain people kept causing this place to have to get remodeled. She's putting a finger under her chip, drumming those of the other hand on top of the masked mercenary's head, and looking first one way, then the other when a smoking-hot gun barrel is placed against her leather-clad thigh.
"AAAAAAHHHHOWIE!" The clownette kicks her legs to try to get away from the sudden pain in her leg, causing her to lose her balance and tumble over backwards, catching herself on her hands at the last instant and springing into a somersault, with a scowl on her face. She folds her arms and hmphs. "What, can't a girl live up ta tha stereotype about women drivers? Ya don't start bein' a lil' nicer, I'mma leave ya for someone more MANLY!"
She points, one hand on her hip, a foot tapping, finger extended imperiously, "Just go this way!" ...She's pointing at a blank wall. "It's a shortcut."
The Joker stops in his tracks and glances off to the side, eyeing one of many hallways he's passed up in his trek through Arkham. He then turns to look the other way, eyeing the similar passage with equal suspicion. After a long moment of standing there, considering both options, he eventually throws up his arms and stomps off down the right hall.
Moments later he's sprinting full out towards the left, dodging gunfire as armed guards pursue him. "HAHAAAHAHAHAAA! Missed me, missed me, now you gotta' kiss me!" As he turns a corner, he slams full force into another guard, sending them both sprawling. Without even hesitating, the Joker clambers to his feet, bends down and plants a massive kiss on the guard before they can react, using it as a cover to pilfer his gun and put three rounds in his gut. "Wow! You could teach Harley a thing or two... Or you could if you weren't dead. Maybe next time." He looks consideringly down at the body just as the guards from earlier turn the corner. With a hoot and a hastily fired spray of lead, Joker turns and begins sprinting down the hall again, straight towards the other side of the previously mentioned blank wall.
A spotlight catches Amethyst and her faithful steed. Another joins it, and then another, to the point that the princess has to clamp her hands over her eyes. Someone on a bullhorn starts yelling at her.
"Oh my god this is probably where it comes in handy to be registered." She leans forward over the unicorn's mane and shouts: "DON'T SHOOT ME OKAY?"
The guy on the bullhorn keeps yelling. Amethyst settles back down into her saddle and frowns. "Fine, good thing I'm a freakin' magical princess. Damn." The blonde raises her hands and points into the air. A shimmering orb of purple light shoots up into the air, exploding into a storm of sparkles that spells out:
IF YOU SHOOT ME I AM TOTALLY NOT FIXING ANYTHING ELSE OKAY
-XOXO PRINCESS AMETHYST
The princess crosses her arms and waits with her mean face on. The spotlights move away one by one. Her unicorn flies over the exterior wall, bringing Amethyst into the courtyard, where she retains her mean face but still fixes the other broken wall with a wave of her hand.
I'm not sure Arkham Asylum has a courtyard. I think Amaya's just buying way to much into the entire premise of a princess, ie all castles have yards, and all castles hold court, so all yards in castles are courtyards. Also, Asylum, not a castle. Also, I wanna be a pretty princess too!
Aww, I bet Amaya wishes /she/ could comment out of character and have it posted to the log.
Did you hear that Amaya totes showed up /just/ because Deadpool was here? truefax.
"Honey, there's no one more manly than me." Deadpool slings his guns, then flexes his /other/ guns. And you have to give him this- Deadpool is every inch the manly male specimen depicted by Marvel comic writers. He's got muscles on top of muscles, with some muscle to spare. And that's with a costume on. And more guns than a human being can or should reasonably carry. And the most legendary glutes in Marvel continuity. "Yes, let's not forget the gluteal AWESOMEUS." 
Deadpool eyes the wall, then fishes in a hippack for something that looks like clay and is definitely C4. He rolls it into a long strand, humming under his breath, man, that's a catchy tune and slaps the string doodly on the tile. 
"Stand clear! Fire in the hole!" Deadpool winks at Harley, flips open a detonator switch, and without so much as a 'hey, this is gonna be REALLY LOUD', presses the trigger. 
FABAMMMMM! 
There's now a large, dust-clouded hole in the wall. Deadpool's on his feet and upright, but none of the tables and chairs in the room are. "Taa da! Shortcut! /Now/ who's not manly, shortie?" he demands of Harley. Because spare ammunition is /not/ for suckers, he passes her a machine pistol and ammo- something manageable for someone her size- and slings forward a military grade light machine gun, the sort of weapon used to defend emplacements and lay down heavy automatic cover fire. It very barely qualifies as a personal-use weapon. 
Right then, with perfect comedic timing, the Joker goes flying past. With his ninjalike reflexes Go Ninja go! Now, /that's/ an awesome name for a skill Deadpool snatches Joker's collar, turns him around with feet still pell-melling, and aims him at Harley. He leans out into the hallway and the eruption of automatic fire and the flare of tracers sends the pursuing guards scrambling for cover. "Aaaaugh! Give me back my daughter!" he screams in a heavy Austrian accent, seeming to never run out of ammo. 
"Ohmygod, so preeeetty," he croons, pressing his face against a window. "Hey, I think that's our hero! I think she's here to like, thwart us! and she's a pretty pretty princess!"
Quinn sticks her fingers in her ears, turns her back, and crouches down, scrunching up her face when the explosives come out. Seriously, she looks like she's trying to pass gas or something, or move things with her mind. Whichever. The explosion blows debris and dust everywhere, everywhere but where Harley just happened to be crouching, a head-sized chunk of mortal juuuuust missing braining her in the dome. Must be her astonishingly good luck.
She turns around and jumps in the air with a clap and the giant grin that so often graces her face., "YAAAAAAY!" But it soon withers as she's handed another gun. Now she pouts while loading it. "Heeeeey, how come I get tha girl gun?" Grumbling as she slams the clip home and pulls on the slide, she starts looking for someone to shoot, blue eyes and blonde head turning this way and that. Except there doesn't seem to be anyone wanting to burst into the cafeteria just yet, except for that guy in the jumpsuit with the green hair runnin-
"PUUUUUDDIIIIIIIIN'~!" If this were some kind of anime, Harley would have hearts for eyes as she takes a running leap for the freed clown. But it's not, it's a comic book. So she just has a stupidly-happy, vapid, fangirl grin plastered all over her face.
When the wall comes down with a massive explosion, Joker is showered in debris and dust, gun still firing behind him, though since he's not even paying attention, every shot ends up lodged in the ceiling or walls. He doesn't even stop as he sprints full out into the cafeteria, effortlessly redirected towards a run-jumping Harley who's nearly shot in surprise. Once he's sees who it is, though, she's much more lovingly sidestepped so she can take a running leap at thin air. "Harley! You came back for me! After leaving me here. To rot... In this humorless pit of corruption and filth." He storms up to Harley, for the moment ignoring the Schwarzenegger impression, to loom over her with all the looming prowess he has in him. A prowess probably described by an ability that may or may not be helpfully labeled intimidation that certain other gun-toting lunatics may or may not have in their woefully inadequate sheet.
But then the looming is broken by a broad grin and cheek pinch, "Oh I can't stay mad at you Harley-poo... What with you bringing me a gun and all." Not so subtely, he holds his hand out for the piece she carries before looking over towards Deadpool. "Hey, who's the Deathstroke wannabe?"
Amethyst leans over to look at the ground below. Some of the exterior guards are keeping an eye on her, but most of them have more important things to do. The princess is a potential threat, but there's a lot of potential threats around here at the moment.
The number of people in uniform is making her uneasy, though. Who knows what will happen if she lands? She's seen the movies. She knows how well swarms of guards can dogpile someone. Besides, the asylum looks a lot like Thunderdome.
Never step into Thunderdome without a good reason.
"...yeah, I think I'll let the professionals handle this," the princess mutters. She tugs the reins and her unicorn gives a mighty flap of its wings, launching them back into the air.
 
A shot rings out. Deadpool glares at Joker down the sights of his gun, over the smoking barrel, and right at Joker's butt, where he just shot him. "Don't compare me to that wannabe whiner ripoff, you tarted up circus freak," Deadpool growls. "Slade Wilson, my /ass/. I was on the scene /way/ before him. And that crossover cameo I did doesn't count!" he adds, waggling the gun at Joker. "Some rescuee /you/ are. I can't even remember why we came here." Harley's hot. "I can't remember why I thought it was a /bad/ idea to come here!" he clarifies. 
"Orright, so, we're loading up and bailing out of here," Deadpool says, hoisting his machine gun across his chest and waving it menacingly at a pair of guards at the far end of the cafeteria. "So, Plan A, or plan Boring, is to blast our way out the back gate. Plan B, which I call Plan Awesome and Plan A because Plan A is Stupid, requires us to be on the roof." He points a finger skyward.
This is the problem when your main nemesis is Batman. You start getting mouthy around people because you think 'Hey- what's he gonna do, slap me around a bit?' Mouthing off to armed, highly trained, psychotic mercenaries, on the other hand- well, tits or GTFO, that's Deadpool's motto.
Or it would be, if his motto weren't Tacos 4 Life.
That's a lie. I just made that up. We don't have a motto.
What's a motto?
Nothin! WHATSAMOTTO WITH YOU?
"WHEEEE- Oof." Harley catches a face full of floor, going ker-splat like a diver who missed the pool, the rest of her body falling a moment after her head and arms hit. Kind of like a tree falling. Rubbing the side of her head, she starts to get up, to smile, only to wilt back down and stay right where she was, half-lying, half-sitting on her side with a look of fear in her big blue eyes. "N-No, Puddin' ya got me all wrong! I had ta get out ta get YOU out! Was tha only way, honest!"
But her demeanor changes to that of a preening puppy when her cheek is pinched and she finds she's not going to be on the receiving end of a clown beatdown. Her face melts into a heartwarming grin, and she only hesitates juuuuuust the slightest bit when he holds out his hand expectantly before handing over the weapon Deadpool had just given her.
And half-expecting to be immediately shot for her trouble.
"Tha roof! Tha roof! Tha roof!" Is Quinn's vote, jumping up and down and pointing upwards. Hey, it sure beat trying to swim out of here, and probably involved another aerial escape, which was much preferable to dealing with the Coast Guard.
It's true. I'm actually the sane voice.
Purple banana frog blender mustache!
Did you know that The Joker's real name is Steve Pulinski, and he was a small time car insurance salesman in Gotham?
IT'S CANON NOW CAN'T TAKE IT BACK
If he hadn't already won, Joker might be pissed his ass is starting to bleed profusely, but instead he falls to the ground laughing and gripping his new gunshot wound. "AHAHHAHA! I think I hit a nerve! ... And so did you! Heheheeheh!" He rolls around laughing for a few moments, relying on the far less gunshot wounded members of the Insanse Clown Posse to clear out the room, before he pulls himself to his feet, using Harley as a crutch. "Wow! I take it back. This Deathstroke is /tons/ more fun than the other one... So where's the Bat?" He looks behind Harley, like she might be stashing him behind her back, then turns an expectant eye on Deadpool. "You guys invited him to my breakout bash, didn't you?" I mean, who would break out the Joker without inviting Batman? It's just common sense. With a gasp and a slight increase in his ever present grin, he looks around the cafeteria with glee etched on his face, "Or is it a surprise!? Is he gonna' be waiting around a corner, ready to tackle me to the ground and go a round or two for old times sake?" He's nearing giddiness as he clasps Harley on either shoulder, "Is he gonna' break my arm!? No, no! Don't spoil the surprise. Oh! I can't wait, it's going to be so much fun!"
Princess Amethyst and her magical unicorn proceed to get the hell out of there, leaving the guards and their bullhorns and spotlights behind. They reach the clouds again, at which point the unicorn eases off the afterburners.
"Wow, huh?" Amethyst says, shaking her head. "Gotham is severely depressing. That Batman dude must be absolutely crazy."
She looks back over her shoulder at the dim outline of the complex fading behind her. The unicorn shakes its head. "I guess I do feel kind of bad, but that really wasn't my scene. I can't help but get this feeling that I avoided a terrible, terrible fate. So that's good."
Now to go track down Doctor Strange. He's probably doing something completely boring and not at all related to Satanism.
 
"Nope!" Deadpool swaggers over to Joker. "No Batman. No special surprise, no army of minions. No grand escape. Just me and Harley, busting your sorry ass out of here," he declares cheerily. He casually sprays thirty rounds of ammunition across the cafeteria, forcing a few guards back into cover. "I guess he didn't love you enough to come to the party. We did have a pretty princess fly over, but then she left," Deadpool says thoughtfully. "But if you want me to break your arm, I can totally do that," he offers solicitously. He waggles the machine gun at Joker. "Or I can shoot you some more. Or- hey, wild idea- we can exeunt stage uppus, and get the fudge outta here?" he inquires.
"Ah... Ah... no Boss, tha B-Man ain't comin'." Quinn manages to get out in the most contrite voice possible as she helps the Joker up and to his feet. "Ya know how 'e is, never wantin' ta have any fun or nuthin'. But we got all tha boys waitin' on ya at tha old hideout with a cake! Jim-Bob an' Petey an' Snub-Nose McGrue an' tha whole crew! It'll be jus' like ol' times, you'll see."
She's already trying to help him limp on up to the roof, slapping awkwardly at Deadpool's machinegun and putting herself in the line of fire. "No more shootin' Mistah J! We're gettin' outta here an' we ain't comin' back fer a long, LONG time! ...Until I miss my friends like Red an' Hat Guy an' Lizard Man an' Doc Crane an'..."
Yeah, that goes on the whole way up the stairs.
On top of Arkham there is... a DIRIGIBLE! And Deadpool sweeps Harley off her feet, scowls at Joker, and hauls her into the cabin, kicking and screaming most likely. Once Joker's in the cab, the dirigible putpuputts and starts to take off. Expert fire takes out the spotlighhts, and the blimp sails off into the night, with the Deadpool Icon crudely painted over the side of the WayneCorp stadium blimp's logo.
Category:Log