1424/Harley Sessions: Negasonic

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Harley Sessions: Negasonic
Date of Scene: 28 April 2020
Location: April's Apartment
Synopsis: Negasonic Teenage Warhead comes to see Harley Quinn for some therapy... it does not go as expected. Write it down.
Cast of Characters: Negasonic, Harley Quinn

Negasonic has posed:
The problem with teens who got smartphones and not much supervision, is that they'll do things and go places. The X-Men being so busy with everything Genosha, meant it was relatively simple for Ellie not to be minded. Which is how she took Harley on her offer to try a therapy session with her. Which brings her, thanks to the virtues of Uber, outside of April's apartment. She looks a bit unimpressed by the neighborhood, as she starts towards the door.

Harley Quinn has posed:
These sessions require a lot of prep work!

For starters, she has to get some kind of catering, at least some finger foods.. In this case it's a platter of cookies of varying make. All of them are gormet from a bakery down the street. Laid out on a glass platter with a big jug of lemonade on the coffee table.

The Hyenas are with April, Frank is sitting in the office where Harls has set up the old television from the living room, and Ivy is... probably feedin' the mailman to whatever she's growin' on the roof.

IN HER DEFENSE THOUGH: He delivered the neighbors mail to their apartment AGAIN..

The security on this joint is the very best money can provide (or at least the most reasonably best money can buy). A screen within a screen pops up on the television when Ellie comes within a proximity of the door and there's a loud click signalling the doors unlock.

Negasonic has posed:
Ellie looks at the door at the sound of the click, all very suspiciously so, "oooookay," she mutters to herself as she snaps a picture of the door. "This is Ellie Phimister, if I die today, know that my life sucked," she records a last will and testament of sorts, before braving a step inside. "Hello...? Dr. Harley was it?" Ellie asks, still feeling a bit dubious about going to a Twitter doctor. She doesn't even know what kind of house of horrors she walks into, thanks to Harley's amazing prep work.

Harley Quinn has posed:
The lights have been dimmed in the apartment with thin sheets draped ovr the lamps to give off a warm glow through the living room and there's a picture of a crackling fire on the 52" television set. Harley, herself, is wearing a pair of Gotham University athletics shorts and an entirely too short and too tight tanktop because she aint a real doctor no more and doesn't have to dress in crazy ass uncomfortable professional clothes when therapueting people who found her service on the internet.

Her hair is up in blonde pigtails, one half dyed pink, the other aquad blue, and her skin is basically white.. with black and white tattooes covering just about every visibly exposed piece of flesh. "Hey! Phimister.. is tha' Phinish? Come in.. have a seat, theah's cookies an' shit." The stairwell has been cleared of poop and moved up to the roof for fertilizer BECAUSE IVY WAS SO FUCKING JUDGEMENTAL ABOUT IT...


Negasonic has posed:
"You can call me Ellie," the goth girl answers, as she still looks stunned by the apartment she finds. Everything seems so off or whacko, and then there's Harley herself, "do you, like, cover yourself in makeup to be white like that?" Ellie has to ask, before noting, "the pigtails thing is weird, but I like the colors, pretty cool alternating like that."

She does reach for a cookie, after having snapped a few pics of the apartment, and one of Harley herself. "So like...how do we do this thing, because I really never even thought of trying..."

Harley Quinn has posed:
The Clown Princess of Candid photography juts her hip out and puts her palms down on them with a sassy, pursed lip, stare. One blonde brow perked slightly staring at Ellie's camera when she snaps the photo.

"Ellie is gonna be a lot easiah to say than Phimistah." Harley agrees with a bobbing head nod, which sends her pigtails swinging. More so when she jumps over the back of the couch onto the cushion of her legs folded beneath her, "Hm? Oh.." Tugging a small bit of her alibaster white skin up and letting it settle back down against her muscle, "When I was like twenty oah suh'n, Mistah J an' me was at Ace Chemical factory an' he convince't me ta jump in a vat of ... somethin'.. I unno what it was, prolly acid oah somethin', who tha fuck knows." Big shrug.

"Dyed my skin this colah.." Holding up both hands, turning them back and forth to show that her palms are just as pale.

Big grin, red lips, maticulously made up.

"It can go a numbah of ways, really.. but honestly ya jus' sit ovah theah, oah ovah heah on the couch, get comfortable, eat some cookies.. an' talk.. about whatevah ya want. Then ya pay me fifty bucks."

Negasonic has posed:
"That's one benefit for my name, easy to say..." Ellie seems to agree, not revealing anything about her codename and what she can do. Why ruin a good surprise. "Damn, you're pretty nimble, didn't expect that of a doctor," Ellie remarks as she moves to find herself a place to sit. "Wait...you jumped into a vat of chemicals? Willingly? Are you crazy?" Funny! That one should have been obvious, right?

She does reach for a cookie, though she looks a bit hesitant when she hears the price, "can we settle on twenty five? I don't get a lot of allowance."

Harley Quinn has posed:
"I was a gymnist foah ... well since I was eight. My mom was a bit of, as you kids like ta say, a cunt." Harley is basically an open book, settled with her hands on her tattooed thighs, half looking over at Ellie as if nothing at all could possibly bring her good mood down. The enlightened would, probably, recognize the fact that she's touched... and that's putting it super conservatively.

"An' I was fightin' Batman an' his gang'uh fuckin' teenaged paramilitary wacka-doos foah tha bettah paht of two ye'ahs... so.. we'll call't on tha job trainin'." Hands up, big ol' psycho grin. Head lulled to one side like a China doll.

"Some people would definitely say I am crazy, yes." She clearly doesn't... Harleen might have something to say on the matter, though. "Twenty five is fine, I don't really need tha money. I'm independantly wealthy... I jus' use these sessions ta pay foah ... basically fuckin' nothin', ya seen the gas prices these days?" Swatting one of her hands, turning away dramatically, "Fuh'get about it..."

Still, "Tha' a fashion statement?" Pointing at Ellie's shaved head. No judgement what so ever. "Shanado O'Connor did that once.. then burn't a pic'cha of the Pope on SNL.. real choice act of defiance foah a woman in the mid ninties.."

Negasonic has posed:
"A gymnast? Damn, it shows," Ellie can't deny that Harley's tumbling skills were impressive to watch, "I'd probably fall on my head if I tried that." She grins at Harley's description of her mom, "I see," clearly no matter what else, this threapist was cool to be so open. Nevermind that Ellie has no professional to measure it against. "So, what's up with all the tats? Never seen anybody with so many. Any story behind them?" It's always easier to talk about other people. Way easier than opening up about oneself.

Ellie looks quite pleased at cutting the price in half, "thanks, appreciate it," she murmurs as she settles in with a bite of the cookie. Munching away, she notes, "this is actually pretty good." She laughs at the question of gas prices, "I'm a teen, I don't have a car, of course I don't know what the fucking gas prices are. I'm going to guess high because they're set by rich assholes?"

Asked about her hair, Ellie falls into a rather sullen silence, murmuring, "I heard about Sinead once or twice, and I guess it's more like a memento..."

Harley Quinn has posed:
Harley looks down at the tattooes on her legs, arms, and abdomen, "I'm sure they did at tha time I did'em." Insinuating she did these to herself. Fun fact, Margot Robbie, at least until recently, did tattooes on her friends... but it was insinuated that they put that part in the movie because of her own fixation on tattooing!


One, however, an upside down skull jester draws her attention and she rubs a hand along it with a lopsided grin, shrugging indifferently as she looks back up at Ellie. "I don't remembah what they ah now, though... Tha' was a ye'ah ago, who remembahs things tha' long? Nevahmind holds onto them thoughts, huh?" Flicking her fingers out in the teens direction.

"Tha's cus I spent a fuckin' fortune on'em... like two hun'rit dollahs a box, but if ya wan' somethin' ta taste right, ya spend money foah it to be made right.." Pointing a finger in the sky, the other palm flat against her very artificially enhanced chest. Unbashful, unapologetic.

"Rich assholes do a lot of things... Ya really gotta pick ya battles wit them pricks.." Said the Clown Princess of robbing the opera. "Suffice ta say, all tha hahm I done to them rich assholes amouns ta nothin'.. I aint sayin' don't rebel, fuck them, but really... come on... pick ya battle."

Shrugging, it would have taken a therapist to realize she touched on a sour subject, but that's kind of what she's being paid 25 dollars to do. "Must be pretty impohtant, onetime I got real mad at tha nuns at the orphanage cus all they bought was Head And Shoulders shampoo, which is terrible foah colah treated hair, an' got back at'em by shavin' all of theah heads.."

Negasonic has posed:
"Oh...so, you're kinda stuck with them even though they lost the meaning? That sucks," Ellie gives her professional opinion. "I can actually relate to not remembering a year ago. Shit happens." Ellie does look a bit stunned about the cost of the cookies, making her arch a brow as she pours some of the lemonade, "and how much the lemonade cost? I mean that's the freakiest cost for cookies I ever heard of."

"I don't really know much about that, but, I do know I want them hurting," Ellie admits.

"Yeah, we're practically the same," Ellie mutters somewhat sarcastically at the nuns story Harley shares, "anyways, so I'm from Genosha...and humans kinda sent death machines to kill all my friends, family, and everyone ever in my country which barely even exists anymore. So there's that..."

Harley Quinn has posed:
"Even if I don't remembah the memory, don't mean I want ta foahget tha' I wanted ta remembah them." Harley points out, jerking her right shoulder up along with the corner of her mouth into a sardonic little smirk. "Sometimes ya do things foah the sake of one purpose, but it ends up servin' a completely different one... like mah tattooes-" Tracing the outlines of various phrases she's got stinciled on her thighs, "I don't wanna be this person no moah, whoevah she was.. so I got remindahs.. pretty simple."

Ultimately Harley is the most complicated simple experiment.

Squinting at Ellie, "Cus theah good.. an' tha person who makes them grows most of theah own ingrediants oah out sources ta people what do.. an' if ya cahe about a place, ya support those little shops.. Ah they bettah than chip's ahoy? Sure, a little, but wha' I'm payin foah is a person creativity.." Pointing at the cookies, none of which are exactly like any other cookie on the tray, even if their flavor might be.

"Creativity an' individuality.. artistry, really.. an' tha lemonade is minute made. I splurg't on cookies foah ya, stop bein' fuckin' greedy." Grinning as she says it.

Grinning still when Ellie goes are sarcastic, "Nah, we aint nothin' a like at all.." Which isn't at all an insult, but it comes with zero contextualization as to how. Because the meat here isn't her own personal experiences, "Does it help ya feel somethin' about it if ya talk about all tha death in a cavaliah way? I'm a human.. an' I've killed... soooo many people.." Waving her hands outward, "So many... so I know how fuck't up humans can be. I can undahstand why why ya might be pretty cross wit'em." Cross, as if they just bullied her at lunch, "I suppose I shoul't ask how all tha' death made ya feel. But I think it's pretty obvious ya aint real happy about it."

Negasonic has posed:
"I'm not sure I follow, but I get that you were saying something smart," Ellie notes in a kinda 'it is not you it is me' type of dismissiveness. "So like, you want to do one thing, and wind up doing the opposite, and maybe it's not all that bad in the end?" Ellie tries to wrap her head around what Harley is saying.

"I actually get that!" Ellie finally opens up, as she brushes her hand across her shorn head, "this...? Humans did it to me when they enslaved me when I was 6 or 7, don't remember exactly when, but they took me from my home. My parents couldn't do nothing, they said I wasn't a person, just a mutant scum...I kinda kept it to remind myself some people want me to be nothing. And I won't let them do that to me, ever again."

She can't help but laugh at the Minute Maid comment, while reaching for another cookie, "gotcha, fair enough."

Ellie seems to actually respond well to Harley not talking like any ol' therapist might, "I think I connect with your Ace Chemicals story more than anything else I heard, and, funny, but you didn't destroy an entire country...so you're still better than them. No matter what you did."

Harley Quinn has posed:
"It was jus' circulah logic." Harley doesn't seem even remotely upset that Ellie doesn't fully follow her explanation or reasoning, she just keeps grinning in that slightly too wide, all white teeth showing, way of hers. "Tha point is.. yeah, tha'." Pointing at the teenager when she reasons through it herself.

"Somethin' bad aint always bad any moah than' somethin' good is always good. Everythin' is perspective an' shit..." Settling her palms down on her thighs, half leaning against the arm of the couch with her feet extneding out crossed at the ankles.

"No, I aint tryin' to compare myself to them oah nothin', I don't need to show my nuts ta appreciate I am, okay?" Palm raising up from the back of the couch, eyes fixed on Ellie, saving the most important part for last.

"Tha's faih. I'm Jewish... oah my dad was, I don't believe in religion mahself, an' I like Christmas, an' bacon... anyways.. I'm jewish... I didn't get ta meet my pappy, mah dads dad, but I bet he prolly shared a lot of commonalities wit' ya in regahds to turnin' somethin' born of hatred inta a badge of survival." That said, "Theahs plenty of examples of oppress't oah hated groups usin' the shackles of tha' hatred as a ... I hate sayin' badge, but somethin' tha' incorperate..." Pointing at her chest with both hands.

"Takes tha sting outta it... oah reminds'em, nevah again.." She chews on her lip a second, blue eyes looking around the room.

Negasonic has posed:
"Really? That was your point...?" Ellie looks a bit stunned that she got anywhere near it at all, "I never took a psychology class in my life, weird." Ellie looks particularly confused at Harley mentioning she's Jewish, "you are? Didn't take you for the...yeah, that's what I thought," Ellie grins. Nothing about Harley, particularly in this getup and tattoos, suggested 'religious type'. "So, you saying your tattoos are badges too?" Ellie muses, trying to see if she's getting the hang of this psychology stuff.

Harley Quinn has posed:
"It don't take a degree ta figah out how the mind wohks, toots." Harley isn't degrading the theories and practices of therapy and psychology, so much as pointing out that it's more or less a study of understanding people.. "I could throw some big wohds at ya, diagnose ya wit' these half wit conceptualized disohdas if ya want.. like post traumatic stress deflection.. oah survivahs angah.." flicking her hand out, tossing them like cards from the top of a deck.

"But does tha help ya? Honestly? Of course not.. because who tha fuck cahes about tha' shit? Honestly? Ya aint broken by ya experiences.. yah sure aint made lessah by ya response to them.. an' in my opinion, ya kinna embracin' tha worst elements of ya situation an' turnin' some self reflective growth out of it.. so longs ya don't become a serial killah preyin' on random humans foah the sake of concieved slights perpetrat't by the greatah whole of humanity?"

The Clown Princess of Cavlier shrugs, "Tha fuck does it mattah why ya shave ya head to anyone but you? Which.. I know it's biggah than that, an I aint trivilizin' it, I'm usin' it as the most obvious example.." Palm out towards Ellie.

Eyes down on her thighs, again shrugging. "Sure? Tomorrow I'll jus' say it's a fashion statement, though.. I aint really a good case study in stability, okay? Don't base ya undahstandin' of traumatic response on me. Tha's a long wait foah a train aint comin'."

Negasonic has posed:
"Really...? So what do psychologist learn at fancy schools?" Ellie asks with an amused grin on her lips. She listens, nods, and fishes in her pocket for the twenty five dollars she leaves on Harley's table. Not even aware it's actually April's table. "I guess you earned it, you at least make some sense and sound like you know what you're saying. I appreciate that."

"Look, I know you're famous and all, but I'll be honest, I haven't read any of the shit written about you because you actually talked to me like a person, so many ignore me, avoid me, and don't listen to me, it felt good for anyone to actually acknowledge me, so thank you for that," Ellie admits, "it's what made me decide to try showing up. My real issue is nightmares, but I guess I wanted to see if I trust you first."

Harley Quinn has posed:
"How ta write like they got Parkinsons." Harley answers the question without even skipping a beat, "Foah our prescriptions..." Wiggling her hand as if she's signing her name with a couple wiggles and an exagerated swoop that goes well off the imaginary page. "Eithah way ya was payin' me.. tha's how services wohk." Which is said with a grin, but she's not reaching out to grab the money either. She's lounging right now. "Besides, these cookies was expensive."

That aside.

"Yea, a lot'ah people do tha' ta me too.. Write me off oah assume I'm jus' ... well .. I mean I was, so who could blame them ... but tha' I still am, jus' a psychopath.. Which aint the same, no comparisons, I'm jus' sayin' I get bein' disregard't." Propping her temple in her palm with her elbow on the arm of the chair and her body turned away from the back of the couch to kind of face Ellie.

"Talkin' about nightmah's is hahd. My therapist tells me ta write'em down.. so we can go ovah them togethah an' try ta figgah out wha they mean.. oah how I feel about'em, but she's a fuckin' quake-" still, "-It wohks foah me though.. so... Tell me about ya nightmahs, oah, if ya prefuh, write'em down. .. an'..." stretching the word out as she rolls off the couch onto her hands and knees. From there she springs up and over into a back bend walk out towards a bookshelf, bending straight over to look through them until she finds one in particular.

Holding it out to Ellie when she comes back. It's a journal, simple, black... little more than a composition notebook, "Write them down.. oah.. write poetry...oah write a story... oah jus' use ya imagination in the aftahmath of one of those nightmahes.. It sounds silly, but yah brain is already on a hypah high, feed by creativity.. it's a good time to create."

The book drops outward, extending to Ellie, "It helps me... an' I got plenty of nightmahes."

Negasonic has posed:
Ellie genuinely laughs at Harley's joke, "it's true, doctors have the worst hand writing ever! It's like a secret language."

Ellie nods as Harley relates the hardships of being written off as a psychopaths just because you caused mayhem with the Joker and killed a few people. Then caused mayhem with Poison Ivy, and killed a few people. Oh, and also caused mayhem on your own, and killed a few people. Some people just jump to conclusion. Maybe it's because they're jealous they weren't the ones getting hilariously killed?

"Wait...you go to a therapist? Wouldn't you do your own therapy?" Ellie has to wonder, fascinated by this. "Okay, here's a poetry about them: All dead. All dead. All the things we had. All dead. Dead and gone." She then looks at Harley expectantly.

Harley Quinn has posed:
Jealous indeed!

Harley doesn't shy away from who she was, except to say she isn't that anymore. She is absolutely capable of being that person again, however. She is prone to violent response to otherwise harmless stimuli.. volitile they say.. and dangerous.. Very dangerous. Because she's charming.

Luring someone into a false sense of security that she's likeable. That she wouldn't hurt them because they relate on a conversational level... and she's funny. Telling jokes and smiling.

People underestimate how dangerous she actually is because she's cute..

But the way she moves? She's still very much a predator. Swaying and watching, sizing Ellie up even as she's playfully getting to know her. Not because she intends the girl harm, she genuinely doesn't, but because that's who Harley Quinn is.

"Yeah, I got'ta therapy... Harleen Quinzel. She got her PhD in criminal psychology at tha age of 19 aftah graduatin' top of her class from Gotham High at sixteen.." Wiggling a in a slow circle near her temple, tongue out, eyes crossed. "turned coocoo cachoo at age twenty..." Patting both hands against her chest, one still holding the notebook, she then holds it out to Ellie.

"Write it down." As if that's exactly what she was talking about.