140/Hakuna Matata

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Hakuna Matata
Date of Scene: 26 February 2020
Location: Bleake Island
Synopsis: Harley runs into Floyd and talks some sense into him... both of them are kind of surprised she has sense!
Cast of Characters: Floyd Lawton, Harley Quinn

Floyd Lawton has posed:
"So. You're saying Zoey got an F?" Floyd asks, his voice on edge. He's in his suit and got a cellphone up to his ear. "Oh, believe me. I know what happened. I told my daughters to fight back. You say she did what? I'm glad she did" Floyd says, on the edge of a cheap seat in a run down bit of Bleak Island. "I get that, but you are wrong" he says hanging up. There's another call incoming. "Yes?" Floyd asks. "How much? And who?"

Ah, the hitman's trifecta. Business, burrner phones...and payment!

Floyd listens, keeping an eye on the surroundings. Hey, this is Gotham, A.K.A.k dangerous

Listening more, Floyd is silent, and then the phone gets slid into a holster.

"$25,000 for killing Zoey's teacher. It's small compared to the ten times that he's been offered for a bigger hit. But....his kids are his world. Mess with them? Floyd goes papa bear with a rifle and a burning desire to kill.

Harley Quinn has posed:
Harley JUST SO HAPPENS to be in Gotham after a rather eventful day in New York and Metropolis, returning home carrying groceries towards one of her safehouses on Bleaker Island. There's not a whole lot Harley Quinn can do to go incognito, but people here on the Island are so down on their luck, they basically jus' keep their heads down, ya know? She's wearing a Gotham Knights ballcap backwards over her blonde hair and wearin' something a little more weather appropriate cus Jersey is cold as hell!

A leather jacket with the big Yellow smiley and so many chains and spikes that anyone ever listened to the Ramones would gush. A full, if tight, baby-doll t-shirt with a unicorn graphic and a pair of painted on bluejeans with calf high boots.

She looks like run of the mill trash!

"Fred, is tha' you Fred?" Floyd. Waving a hand at the suited Deadshot, "It's me, Ha'lee! Ya know from tha' one time we blowed up tha' drug place for some reason? Yea, you 'membah. How ya doin' Fred?"

Floyd Lawton has posed:
Floyd slowly sweeps his gaze over Harley and his mouth twitchsd a little. "I'm..." he starts then pauses. "Trying to work out what you're wearing. I know it's clothes. But. But..." he says sounding totally lost.

Ah yes, the 'one time they did blowed up thaa' drug place, yep. So he glances to her. "I'm angry" he starts, watching her. "I'm angry for two, make that three reasons" Oh they are good reasons

"One" he starts counting on his hands. "One. Zoey got an F. Two, she got into a fight and took out this girl's knees who was pulling her hair and calling her a fat bitch. Three. Somebody wants me to deal with the teacher" he says. Oh he's opening up to her. Because, he and Harley got the whole 'do bad things in societal eyes' in common. "So, what would you do if your kid got an F for kicking butt, huh?" he asks.

Harley Quinn has posed:
That's some heavy shit.

Harley's eyes go all wide at being included in the decision making process and doesn't look at all equipped for it. The way she's holding her bag of groceries kind of resembles a toddler braced on her hip with one arm around it to distribute the weight, the other absently twirling her fingers into the light blue streaks dyed into her blonde hair, "Yer askin' me?"

She glances around and don't see nobody else standin' around, so he must be! That or he's losin' his marbles an' talkin' to himself, which aint to terrible a stretch when it comes to Gotham, is it? "Well, there'd be a lot of questions about how I got a kid named Zoey.. I'd never name daughter that, first off.. Not tha' there's anythin' wrong with the name er nothin', just not what I'd pick." Gotta get the most important part outta the way.

"But hypothalamusly, if I /did/ have a daughtah named Zoey, which I don't, but if I did... an' she did get an F? I'd prolly wanna know why she's gooder at breakin' kneecaps on pestulant little cunts than openin' a book to study. Sounds like parentin' problems to me.. which is the other reason I don't got no kids, named Zoey or neither wise." The gum in her mouth pops as she chews it against her back teeth.

"I'd also wanna know wha' kinna teacher their hirin' gets a bounty on'er head tha' is big enough fer the likes of Fred Lottery to be acceptin' the contract.." POP, gum, twist, hair. "Educational system's really gone down hill since I was in school."

Floyd Lawton has posed:
Harley makes good points. In a method that's like giving a blind guy skates, putting him in an oil slick, and telling him to do the fucking macarena, while jackhammering between the lines.

"See, you got good points, it's why I like ya Harl" he grins. See. She draws a grin outta him. Which is rare. In comparison to Harley, Floyd's not all about the chains or jacket, or, or.....he's just wearing his suit.No mask, though.

Fixing his brown eyes on Harley, Floyd smiles. "Cause Zoey's being taught to defend herself. You having kids, you got a doctorate, right? You'll do good at raising kids" he points out with a totally straight face. He's seen shit, thank you very much. He's seen weird and wild shit. "So you think kids should study? Open bookks, read words?" he asks. "Shit, harls, I joined up at 17. never finished high school. Joined up,got my education in yes sir, I'll give you fifty. So" he says patting the seat next to him. "Siddown and tell me. What would you call your kid then?" he asks

For all of his cold and stoic mask wearing. Floyd has a softer side. Harley's seeing it.

"I mean. Tell me how it's fair Zoey does her paper, right. Breanna, this cheerleader girl banging the football team, steals it out of her bag and rips it up then BSes the teacher. Teacher buys it and blames Zoey, gives her an F when Breana starts shit and goes after my kid. Zoey defends herself, moves that girl's knees 180, right...and gets an F and suspended? Tell me how that's fair" he asks. "Teacher's a dick, Harls. Old school shut the fuck up in my class, don't even breathe or I get you a detention type. Guy's a grade A dick. Somebody offered me twenty five grand to kill him. I know why he's pissed. Me. I had him, guy's like from when the dinosaurs were around, old as dirt, so he takes his crap out on the kids. So go on. Why shouldn't I kill him? I mean, okay, he's got a wife and kids that live in Red Hook, but...still...I'd be doin' everyone a favor"

Harley Quinn has posed:
Harley squints at Floyd's recollectin' of events and even starts to tell him what she'd name her child, if she'd ever have one, which is unlikely! Her mouth opens to spill the words, but then he keeps on goin', tell her about his raisin' up in the marines or army or whatevah, she don't know. "Yer' grinnin', but yer not talkin' like a person who's amused..." Said with a frown.

The bag of groceries move from one hip to the other, but her eyes stay fixed on Floyd. "I get a lot of tha' from Mistah J... where he smiles, but then he raises his tone at me an' gets all ugly wit his words.. Kinna like yer doin', sept I'm usually the teacher." Wiggle pointing at Lawton, indicating she's the /target/ not really guilty of anything.

"If'n ya ask't me like four days ago, Idda said ya shoul't brain his ass with a tire iron til he shit himself.. but I'm tryin' ta do better, cus there aint whole lotta livin' involved in bein' a psychopath." Which isn't exactly as just stopping on a dime. Harley Quinn's been Harley Quinn a long time now, few years. Psycho. She aint no less crazy.

"So I'm not really yer grade a choice fer moral compass, but I'll give it a go if'n ya want..." Her palm runs beneath her nose, right up the center with a hard sniff, it really is cold out, "'Cus what's that teach yer lil girl? Zoey-" She still dont like the name, but that's besides the point, "-She defend'd herself an' that's good.. but if ya go an brain this jack ass fer money? Tha's vengence...yer teachin'er to be vendictive, an' I really don't think that's tha message ya wanna send to an impressionable young girl in the early stages of her adulthood, huh?"

Squinting, "Next time she aint gonna bust some bitches knee fer tearin' up her paper, she's gonna smash in some fella's noodle with a napkin holder fer mistakin'ly steppin' infront of her in line at tha register... I mean, shes yer kid, Fred.. ya wanna raise a psycho, have at it.. Arkham is fun! I love't there, but is tha' what ya want fer Zoey?"

Floyd Lawton has posed:
$RFloyd sighs and nods. "You got a point. See. Fucked up as I am. I'm not much better, ya know? Army taught me to kill. Well, no. Refined it. I'm not a psycho. I taught Zoey right from wrong, that's the thing. I taught her to kick butt when she's getting attacked. Not go all I'm gonna beat up the whole school for laughing at my sneakers" he muses. Ah he'd totally put bullets in folks mind...

Watching her, Floyd is wondering how things would have turned out if...if....no sense wondering. "You know something?" he asks, subject change. "You got that doctorate, right? You do consulting?" he asks. "Like the 'Fred wants to lay on a couch' thing?" he asks. Air quotes fully in effect with both hands. Every moment he's talking to Harls...is a moment he's not killing somebody. RIght now, though. he's consumed by getting even with the teacher and bratty girl. He won't killl her. Just get her to back off.

Harley Quinn has posed:
Harley watches Floyd sort it all based on her pointing out the facts and there is a certain kind of joy she gets from helping someone. A feeling she's not really felt since before... Anyways, she grins all over exageratedly at him, ever single tooth showing in her face like a shark. "There ya go, big fella, ya jus' gotta not be a wacko doo crazy person shootin' up teachers! It ain't that hard."

Says the girl who stabbed an orderly to death with a plastic butter knife a week ago for not giving her enough ketchup packets with dinner.


"Uhh... no?" Looking down at herself, then up at Lawton, "I jus' escaped from Arkham, Fred.. I wouldn't even... have ya seen the couch in my safehouse? There's... it isn't condusive to a calmin' environment, is all I'm sayin'. I'm pretty sure the last occupants were involved in either a ritualistic Cult sacrifice or a murder suicide pack." Neither of these things really seems to bother Harls, she may not be killin' folks, but she's not any more sane.

Takes more than a day.

"All ya gotta do, if ya start to thinkin' about killin' people that don't deserve to die? Don't do it... it's real simple, peopel do it /all/ the time. It's only us fuck't up insane peoples tha' seem ta have any kinda trouble with it."

Floyd Lawton has posed:
"I've seen worse couches" Floyd says with a dry smile. "So, you're saying no doctor-y stuff right?" he adds and gazes up to the sky. Looking over to Harley again, he shrugs. "So. Let's see. You're telling me not to kill? Ever tried telling a fish not to fucking swim?" he asks. That's...the analogy he's going with.

Because, yeah, those two are totally alike...

Watching her, he nods. "You got a place here or you taking the long way home?" he adds. Oh Deadshot's got his home. It's somewhere in the city.

Harley Quinn has posed:
"Hahaha not to kill? Don't be silly, of course I ain't tell'n ya that-" Harley almost drops her groceries laughing, but manages to keep them glued to her hip with a hand rubbing at her gut, "Wow, yer a funny man, Fred.. Tellin' ya not to kill... Heck I kill'd a bunch of Russian gangsters last night .. an' Bud an Lou killed some jerk offs stealin' trucks yesterday afternoon, but I shot him a dozen times or somethin', I unno, he brought up Puddin', so he had it comin'."

With a completely straight face even. Except the insane grinning.

"I'm sayin' that maybe ya need a better reason ta kill one'a yer kids teachers'n they gave yer daughter an F.. but what do I know." Shrugging, against adjusting her groceries, "I got places all over Gotham... Technically, Mistah J does, but he's in Arkham right now so he aint usin'em, plus Imma say I get them in the breakup anyhow, so fuck him."

Speaking of which! "I should prolly get goin', Fred. I gotta make breakfast an' then I got a thing.." Turning her wrist arm over to look at one of at least three visible watches, "Oopa, yea, time flies when yer givin' out sound advice fer free."