16071/Bring in the reserves!

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Bring in the reserves!
Date of Scene: 13 October 2023
Location: Derby Queens
Synopsis: The Birds are roped into helping Harley's roller derby team. Whoever picked those tighty short-shorts!? Regardless, it will be a match for the ages, a match for ... <And now we interrupt our transmission for a small commercial break.>
Cast of Characters: Harley Quinn, Barbara Gordon, Dinah Lance, Pamela Isley, Harper Row




Harley Quinn has posed:
Drama. Tragedy. Horror!

Another loss for the Derby Queens which puts them deep down on the rankings this season. Almost eliminated from playoffs! And this won't stand! So as any good team leader does Harley decides to get some new blood in the team. And won't stop at nothing to achieve it, like emotional blackmail. Because she certainly has no money to offer to play on her team. It's why she picks up her phone to call a certain Barbara Gordon.

"So. Remember when you made me go through that Joker gauntlet? Time to return the favor...!" It's just details that Barbara had been helping Harley that time around. And now here she was calling for help AGAIN.

Yet her search for new blood hadn't stopped by just calling Barbara. No Sir! She had gone around the city distributing pamphlets and gluing them in every establishment of ill-repute in Gotham. She needed the nastiest girls she could find for this renewal of the team.

Barbara Gordon has posed:
Harley wasn't the only one who had Joker issues. Barbara still had dreams about the night he shot her square in the spine. She still lost sleep over it, even if she very rarely ever spoke to anyone about it anymore. Thus, when Harley sends her a message like that, there is a fair bit of ominous undertone to it, but at the same time... she did do that to Harley awhile back, and it was some level of arguably 'fucked up' too. It had been done with the best of intentions though! Like the dinosaurs in Jurassic Park.

Babs arrives at the designated locale via a black sport motorcycle. Wearing black leather pants, and a black leather jacket, she steps off her bike, and pulls her helmet off of her head. Her red hair spills out from inside it, her green eyes look around at the neighborhood, then at the sight they were meeting at.

She mutters something under her breath as she locks her helmet to her bike via a specially designed magnetic bolt system.

unzipping her jacket a little, Babs starts to walk toward the Derby building, slipping inside looking like a redheaded female terminator, save for non sunglasses at the present moment!

Dinah Lance has posed:
Never let it be said Dinah Lance turns down a call for help. She might complain. She might whine. She might demand a six pack because 'That couch was heavier than you said ti would be, Helena.', but she'll never turn a friend down!

Especially if the friend's request for help promises the opportunity to throw some elbows. Or wear short shorts. Or roller skates.

And when she has a shot to help Babs, her smartest, sharpest, most totally-helped-her-with-emails bestie? By wearing roller skates, possibly short shorts, /and/ throwing elbows? And to help out a fellow blonde?

Dinah Lance to the rescue! if anything, her main concern is how to dress for Roller Derby in a way that doesn't... you know, basically just look like she's on patrol.

What this means is she's wearing an artfully snipped and cropped athletic sweater with a stressed neckline that nearly barely clings to her shoulders, a pair of bright cyan lycra shorts... so if anyone /does/ stare at her they risk eye injury from more than just her punches.

And a pair of roller skates, which is really the main problem.

Dinah's always willing to rock roller skates for a friend, but it doesn't mean she actually knows how to roller skate that well. Well, okay, she knows how to skate. 'It's like kicking the ground right?'. But stopping is /not/ like kicking the ground.

She's sure it'll be fine, she's /barely/ reaching for the walls like a stumbling penguin when she rolls her way towards the center of the Derby arena.

She's totally got this.

Pamela Isley has posed:
The call was made. And...it isn't the first time for a certain individual.

Of course, the call was left on Pamela's voicemail. Because Harley has done this before and knows that if Pam has a higher chance to talk her way out of things if Pam was, you know, actually able to speak. But, a voicemail? Using key phrases and mannerisms that the (not-so) good Doctor Isley simply cannot say no to? It's a win-win!

Which, apparently, is what the roller derby team needs. And....Pammy does have the experience...

So, it is little surprise when the slightly green-hued Pamela Isley appears at the derby grounds. Yes, she has done this before. So, yes, she has her own uniform, from before. With the skates and helmet and the works. What Pamela didn't expect was that Harley was pulling all the stops.

"Well...this is going to be interesting."

Harper Row has posed:
Harper wasn't going to miss Roller Derby action on account of anything. She'll pull some favours, push aside overtime, hip-check a pile of gadgets on her to-do list. She can't proclaim to be a huge follower of one particular team, but she's quite fond of impact sports and high stakes competition.

Plus, dayum, this pamphlet seems to know just the right buzzwords and jargon to make some visual imaginations go blooming into fireworks in her head.

Arriving at the grounds finishing off a hotdog, she's broken a few traffic laws enroute, but has solved the carbs conundrum at short notice. She hustles up to the perimeter of the bleachers, wearing something akin to a marriage between laundry day and just off to the gym. Her forearm goes up to her mouth to smear mustard off her cheek and goggles at the souls in attendance.

Harley Quinn has posed:
When Harley called earlier she didn't exactly state this was going to be for a game but that's just details right? Who cares about training first and making sure people can actually skate? I mean, who doesn't know how to use roller blades, amirite? No one that would be insane enough to get into a roller derby ring with Harley. Do they even follow the rules here?

Yet as the group converges into the arena they might get suspicious there is a game to be had. Because there's the sound of spectators inside. And merchandise being sold outside. And Harley's taco truck selling tacos. Best tacos in Brooklyn! Just don't mind the hyenas.

The clownette receives her friends with hugs all around. One for Ivy! "Yay, I knew you would come! And dressed to kill.." eyebrow waggle at Pamela, then Barbara, "I got your uniform right here!" which she does, delivering the tight crop top, the shorty shorts. The roller blades. Helmet of course and shoulderpads. "You got five minutes to get dressed!" Dinah's approach gets a wave from Harley. "Hey, do I know you from somewhere? Doesn't matter! You are gonna be one of our blockers." she wisely disregards the difficulties Dinah is having finding her balance. It's like riding a bike!

And finally, "Okay girls, we are one player short. Erm ...." Harley looks around, "We need someone lean and small that can go fast like." and she starts pointing right at Harper. "Oi! You! Yes, you! Come play! You look like you know how to skate." roping Harper right into it.

The speakers on the arena come to life, announcing their opponents. The Flatiron District Flatterers. Whoever comes up with these names?

Barbara Gordon has posed:
As Babs meanders about near the front of the building, she sees some familiar faces. It leads her further inside until she's standing inside the indoor arena setup, letting her eyes wander over the people within it. She notices a familiar... everything, in the form of Dinah out on the track, and this causes her to slowly tilt her head...

"Dinah?" She says, likely far too far away to be heard by the Tweety Bird.

Then Harley Quinn!

With clothing and gear? "Uh, I, uh..."

Pamela is here too? And Harper? Harley is pointing at Harper... "So this is where everyone hides during the weeknights..." Babs softly states.

When the announcement comes over the horn, and Harley gives her a timer of five minutes, Barbara's eyes widen. "Wha-what?" She asks, now holding an armload of gear and questionable outfit choices.

She spies the locker rooms, and hesitantly starts toward them. "Don't I have to like... sign waivers, and pay a stupidly overpriced fee, or something?" She asks. "Is there a phone app?"

Either way, the redhead in the black form fit leather is walking toward the locker room, clutching her roller derby uniform and gear, unsure of what the future may bring for her tonight, on the track, or more importantly in this super sus locker room set before her...

Dinah Lance has posed:
Dinah's getting more and more confident in her rolling. Maybe not 'Do a musical number on the... rink? Track? The circle thing you skate on...' level, but like... she's moving and relatively stable. She glances sidelong and catches glimpse of Pamela, offering a helpless little shrug and a half-wave, "Interesting is definitely a word for it. I'm sure it's fine. It's a /Harley/ plan right? What could go wrong?"

...Did that last question have the tinge of being genuine? Like she's actually asking Pam what might go wrong? Probably.

She rolls up to Babs and swings her arms wide! For a hug? No. Well, kind of. It's a hug /and/ a braking maneuver. "Babs! I'm here to help! And punch!"

She offers a wave to Harley, "Oh, I don't think we've like... /met/ met! It's fine! I'm sure! Yeah! I can block! That's like... getting in the way! I'm /great/ at that!"

She glances at Babs and sighs, "Babs, it's roller derby... there's no /way/ there's a phone app. I mean, I half thought there'd be a /jukebox/ or something. It's like... classic! Retro!"

And then Harley's recruiting Harper. Recruiting? More like press ganging. "Well! We can't lose now! I've got a /good/ feeling about this! ...So like... what're the rules about uhh... natural... talents? Allowed? Not allowed?"

Not that she has a reason to ask of course.

Pamela Isley has posed:
The roar of the crowd. That is one good sign that no, this isn't a practice. The other sign for Pamela? Well, this isn't the first time Harley pulled her in to a match directly. That's right! Pamela has experience! Not that it actually helps when she only really subs in whenever Harley is really desperate. But, wait...Harley is recruiting a complete nearly novice team with only 5 minutes before game time?

There is the shake of the head. Typical Harley Quinn plan. "Oh, Harls....you didn't give *anyone* any information?"

Yup, typical Harley plan. Just wing it and see what happens.

With that in mind, Pamela shifts into gear. "Okay. 4 blockers. One blocker is the pivot, who can switch to a jammer in mid-jam. One jammer. Jammer's job is to get through the blockers and do a lap around the rink, then try to get through the blockers. Blockers stop the opposing jammer without using hands and such while trying to help their jammer through. And...apparently..." Pam nods over towards Harper. "Harley wants her to be the jammer."

Rules about natural talents? "Well...there are no official rules...but I would not know just how sporting it would be to use those sort of skills." After all...Pamela may have thought to tip the scales with a little botanical advantage in the past. "But....I don't think we would need to do that. I mean, honestly...just physical conditioning alone..." Pamela doesn't elaborate. But, it is a pretty safe bet that she means the other team does not have any extracurricular activities that are on the same level as the flock Harley has gathered.

Harper Row has posed:
Harper experiences a rare instance of heartburn when she gets surprise enlisted to the team. She swallows down a blurt of salt and anxiety that rumbles from her cauldron. "What?! When I was...when I was fourteen?" she squawks.

Wiping her palms on her thighs, she takes a hesitant step forward, followed by another. Oh my Blog, Barbara is here, Dinah is here, and holy Hydrangeas is that... "We only have five minutes?" She looks down at herself, and flushes in her cheeks. Her head whips around to the safety of the bleachers where she had counted on being one of masses. And then back to the clothing and equipment that may be on offer. Harper hustles to the changing room and shoots the girls a tense look. Some important points are being brought up here. And ~who~ will they be facing off against.

"Jammer, gotcha." Harper squints and tries to mentally picture the layout, the idea of skating through a gauntlet of gals that'll try and turn her into a Blueberry sandwich. "No hands though, that sounds good, how much danger is it if it's no h-" Oh probably plenty.

Harley Quinn has posed:
"I already took care of all of that!" Harley assures Barbara even as she leads her over to that locker room, hands on the woman's shoulders so the redhead isn't led astray. Not more than she already has by accepting the invitation to come to roller derby, that is. With Barbara delivered to the totally not sus locker room she then speaks loudly to the door. "You got four minutes!" nothing like a little pressure to get the adrenaline going.

"So you all know each other. Good! I have a good feeling about this too." big wide grin at Dinah and she slaps her fist against her palm, "The rules are simple. So .... We-" she stops as Ivy then starts to actually explain the rules. Harley's eyes go wide, and almost a little teary. "I am so proud of you Pam. You remembered the rules!" hands held near her own heart in appreciation to the explanation.

As for natural talents? She eyes Dinah up and down. "Do ya mean boob shoving. I mean, you can ..., if that's your jam." yes, that's what Harley interprets natural talents means.

She is grinning as she gets a different color helmet to Harper. "You are the jammer so you get the special helmet." she tells the girl. "Now let's get a move on!" she claps her hands for motivation.

The speaker calls for the Brooklyn Queens to the arena! Three minutes and forty five seconds after Harley announced Barbara had four minutes to get dressed.

Barbara Gordon has posed:
Babs went rigid when the rolling Dinah came right at her with arms akimbo! She had her hands full so she couldn't do much but stand there and be a living support column for the gblonde to ram in to. With a big smirk, Babs is just nodding her head slowly. "I didn't even get a chance to watch a game or two on Youtube before--"

And then Harley is pushing her toward the locker room via her shoulders. "Okay, okay!" She says, swallowing before going through the doors. She grew up on sports, but not THIS sport. She grew up in wrestling, jiu-jitsu, all manner of combat sports. She played Tennis recreationally, and swam for fun! Sure she roller bladed, but that was when she was like 12 or 13 years old! How long agao was that? She doesn't want to do the math on it.

The redhead ends up in the locker room, offering smiles to anyone who regards her, seeing a number of faces that don't look too friendly though, Babs just finds a place to change. She does laugh when Harper joins her though. "She got you too. That's what you get for showing up." She tells the other whilst in mid-change.

When the announcer voice goes off a few minutes later, Babs is tentatively stepping ... rolling out of the locker room with her pads on, her right hand reaching down to pick at the waistline of her shorts, and the other hand putting her helmet on.

"Harley!" Barbara calls out. "Who picked the sizes on this stuff!"

Dinah Lance has posed:
Dinah's mouth works silently for a moment, "That's... not what I me... I... y'know what? I'm just gonna... stick to pushing. With my arms. Arm pushing. Good old fashioned American shoves."

She works /very/ hard not to look towards Babs with a wide-eyed 'I may have made a mistake' look. No, she's sure she can handle this.

Besides! Harper's got that eager vim and vigor going, and Ivy /knows the rules/! She just has to follow their lead!

Dinah rolls alongside Babs, leaning over to stage whisper, "You /know/ she picked it out personally! It's fine. It's... aerodynamic! Form fitting! You look like you're gonna go... really fast! It looks... fine! Just fine!"

Dinah puts on a very impassive mask. She is /not/ going to let on whether or not she's being genuine.

Because torturing your friends shows you care.

Pamela Isley has posed:
Yes, that's right, Harper. That viridian-hued redhead already in gear is indeed the one and only Poison Ivy. And, it is not just Harper that noticed as there is a murmur going through the crowd that Ivy may be coming out onto the rink shortly. Apparently, the roller derby faithful remember the last time Ivy was on roller skates...

"Of course I remember the rules, Harley! You tend to remember things like that when you use the baptism by fire methodology of learning to play. Like we're doing now, you know?" Yeah. It was an experience. Kinda like how this is going to be.

And the crowd gets its first look at Pamela as she bypasses the locker room, taking only a moment to put on the skates before rolling to the edge of the rink. The crowd noise actually lowers a few decibels from the surprise of seeing Ivy, in full regalia, strapping on the helmet. Though...she waits to go out onto the rink itself until everyone is ready. "Just stay with Harls and me. When our jammer needs a boost, we can whip her down the rink. And hang on, there are going to be a lot of arms and elbows."

Harper Row has posed:
"Special helmet? Does it have extra padding? I'm keen on keeping most of my marbles. I'm really fond of 'em!" Harper's voice gets louder and louder as she finds a spot in the changing room to tear off, pull up and cinch pads and straps. "This helmet colour is different to help people target it, isn't it?" Her other clothes turn into a discard pile, no time for nicely hanging any of this stuff up and putting it away in an organized manner.

Is there a mirror? Harper goes to regard herself quickly as time elapses. The helmet goes on next, crushing her faux-hawk as she wrestles with the chin-strap. "Do we get Denny's if we win?" Harper dashes towards her stuff and reefs out some cosmetics. A dip and dab and she employs a little on-the-spot eye black to smear in twin lines under her eyes.

She comes rolling out with the rest of the girls, giving her helmet a few good symmetrical swats on either side, as if to clear static on an old television set.

To the state of garment tightness, she innocently speculates, "That's gonna leave a mark." And she gets her game face on. She's gonna fake it till she makes it. She starts a mantra under her breath, "Speeeeeed."

Harley Quinn has posed:
"What? I know your measures by heart already, Babs dear." The rather salacious wink that comes out of the clownette rather teasing as Harley regards Barbara coming out in that outfit, "Also, it brings in a LOT more crowd." mostly male of course. She claps her hands effusively as the girls seem ready to go. "Alright, you heard Ivy. Center it through us. Don't be scared to call for help. Also, you can use these." and she slaps on her fine hips, "Great for making the other players go right off the rink." followed by a sinister chuckle out of Harley.

And then their rolling to the rink begins. Almost in slow motion! Harley is all waves and kisses to the public as they chant her name. It's their home turf after all. And she might be developping a cult of personality over here. Scary. More shouts for Ivy are done, as well as to the other new players. This may be a retro activity but still calls a lot of people in Brooklyn apparently!

"We gonna need to get you gals some stage names for the next games." She tells them. "Think on it. Now let's win this!" and she enters the arena!

On the other side? Big, mean girls that look tough as nails. With the kind of look that they aren't here to take prisoners tonight. Whatever did they all just get themselves into?!