777/Send In The Clown

Send In The Clown
Date of Scene:	26 March 2020
Location:	Starrware Industries, New York Office
Synopsis:	Karen Starr hires Harley Quinn as her personal assistant in the New York branch of Starrware. What could go wrong?
Cast of Characters:	Karen Starr, Harley Quinn

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Karen Starr has posed:
    It had only taken a few days for the illustrious Karen Starr to, personally, call April's apartment. Regardless of Harley's conduct over the phone, Karen seemed pleasant to speak to- excellent PR voice- and altogether highly interested in bringing Harley in... To interview.

    The trek itself hadn't been far- to a newly established remote office in an aggressively expensive looking skyrise in the heart of the Big Apple, which is every bit as fancy inside as it is outside, with its mirrored windows shimmering in the light of the afternoon.

    The office itself is interesting, to say the least. Much of it seems under rennovation, there is little furniture, and Karen does not, as yet, seem to have a secretary emplaced... At least not properly. There is a person sitting at a desk- but that person is absolutely not really there. She's a lot to look at, though- the holographic woman clearly writing on something that isn't approximated on this remote desktop, her movements and mannerisms so lifelike that it's hard to believe she's a hologram.

    Of course, the reality is that it's a broadcast hologram of Karen's secretary in Metropolis, so it's essentially a very, very fancy webcam.

    This woman looks up, and seems to place a hand on a section of her desk. On this desk, the screen that encompasses the entirety of its surface lights up. for a moment, before honing in on the woman's finger, which is directly over one of the many, many nodes- clearly offices of employees- that says 'KS: New York.' She speaks up after a moment. "Mz. Starr, your two o'clock is here." Her accent, surprisingly, is this thick, dreamy French. It's probably one of several reasons she was hired. There's a pause, and the secretary speaks again after a moment.

    "She will see you now. Through the doors."

Harley Quinn has posed:
Harley wasn't waitin' by the phone, she'd had a few errand to run. Take Bud and Lou to the Vet, get their butthole temperature takin' by an Assassin learnin' at the veterinarian so's he can do bettah takin' care of Mutants, cus that's not at all racist... then shoppin' this mornin'..

Now, to be fair, she /had/ bought some hanging around clothes, which is what her desc is readin', thank ya fer that Karen, but she also bought:

A bright purple Ralph Lauren mini skirt, pink blouse an' a matchin' purple suit jacket... with heels. She put on makeup that aint as trashy: Dark red matte lipstick and purple eyeshadow that might be a /little/ heavy, but she's still got visible tattoos beneath her stockings on both thighs, both wrists, her neck, and a little heart beneath her right eye... so she's still a LITTLE trashy.

Also she's still wearin' her gaudy ass hoop earrings, but she put her hair up in a professionalish bun... with a pair of glasses that have little skull and crossbones on the frame.

"Thanks..." Trying not to drop her Rs fer Ahs... she's puttin' in effort ovah heah... "How do I look, anyhow? Nice right? I clean up pretty good..." Finger waving, big grin at the holographic phonecall as she makes her way through the doors into Karen's office.

Karen Starr has posed:
    Power Girl- definitely, totally a different person from Karen Starr- had left more than enough money for Harley to get distracted. She'd learned that, and instead of leaving some approximation of exactly how much a suit should cost, Karen knew that Harley would probably pass something shiny and need, fundamentally, in her core, to buy it.

    The secretary doesn't necessarily regard Harley with much more than disregard... Apparently capable of that much, at least- so on some degree of professionality, this secretary has earned what Harley can tell was a lot of money, spent... Only so frivolously.

    Through the doors, she finds a dirty blonde woman sitting at a desk, that is in every way the exact opposite of the person she met at Planet Herowood. Karen Starr is... An experience. When you look at Power Girl, and then Harley, and then Karen- the latter of the three is giving blondes a bad name. Karen wears little makeup, has overwhelmingly thick glasses over decidedly -brown- eyes, and her unkempt hair is only kept presentable by the fact that it is naturally straight and long, as it hangs down to her waist.

    When Harley enters, Karen stands up proper, slathered in this... Thing. It's modeled after a business pantsuit, sure. It's really well made. It probably cost more than Harley's spent on clothes in her lifetime.

    It's just that it's this sickening shade of -salmon.-

    Underneath it, is an unflattered figure. Karen Starr is a big woman, in all ways. Taller than she ought to be, and filling out that suit in ways that aren't appealing. Of course, Harley might be the one person crazy enough to guess that Power Girl needed a place to hide her gloves and boots while incognito, but also... If you saw a woman at Power Girl's height and figure, regardless of context, you'd be able to guess exactly who you were looking at.

    Karen Starr isn't hard to notice, but she is hard to look at for any length of time. Someone call Janet Van Dyne.

    "Harleen Quinzel!" she exclaims, exuberant for a moment, her voice cracking just a bit. If there were any detail that sealed the detail, it'd be the voice. Power Girl oozes confidence and might. Karen Starr... Sounds downright mousey. She idly tries to shake the other woman's hand, and her grip almost feels weak. "Please, have a seat." she says, gesturing to one of the chairs at her desk.

    Being Power Girl necessitates a disguise like this. The glasses thing only works if people are staring at your face.

Harley Quinn has posed:
Harley would recognize those assets anywhere!

Her big blue eyes hidden behind decidedly less bottle cap wide glasses don't gravitate DIRECTLY to Karen Starr's checks, but it's a meandering sort of lackadaisical jaunt that's meant to look like she's bein' professional... when her eyes end up right on Karen's chest. Because she's six feet tall and wide set... Seriously, top heavy. Jeep Wrangler.

Crimson colored lips press together in a thin line... "I-..." Those same lips twitch off to one side, eyes every bit as wide and only getting wider.. "You... look awful familiar. Do ya do commercials or somethin'?" Really working hard at not sounding like she stepped off the Jersey Shore set.. She has to talk slower not to fall into her natural accented voice and comes off sounding far more Bronx by contrast. Think "Karen Hill" From Goodfellas.

She shakes her head and adjusts her skirt, tugging it down on her thighs with both hands. As she walks towards Karen, she does a kind of squat walk like she's got a wedgie, "That's me.." She didn't even correct her! Though her eye twitches a bit at having her Christian (or Jewish apparently? Who knows. Religion) name thrust about all humpity dumpity. "Most people just call me Ha-... Har.. Harley. Please.. Misses Starr." Offering a hand with nails that might not be manicured, but are at least painted. All black, instead of her typical alternating black/red.

"I sweah I know ya.... I.. I //swear// I know you... 'scuse me.." Coughing into her fist as she drops down into the seat across from Karen. Not at all professionally, she's almost got her legs spread until she realizes it and deftly crosses one over the other.

Karen Starr has posed:
    That Harley would recognize certain parts of her is exactly why Karen is wearing, well, a compression bra under the shirt of the suit. It doesn't do a whole lot- because you -can't- but it might just do enough to throw off even the trained eye of this particular lunatic. It really is the ultimate test of the disguise, Harley's mind is just crazy enough to make insanely large leaps that normal people wouldn't.

    However, Karen learned something from old friends and near-enough family that she never could have from Kal: She has one hell of a poker face. There isn't even the faintest sign of sympathy in her features as Harley stumbles over her own epithet. The hand Harley takes to shake is gorgeously manicured. Soft. Almost delicate. Impossible to tell that most of the time it's punching holes in continents, or lifting cities. "Please, it's Miss, not Missus, my secretary keeps turning me down." It's a complete fabrication, but the kind of cringey fabrication that is believable for the kind of person Kara Zor-L is trying to make Karen Starr out to be.

    After sitting down, there's this bright smile. "'Course ya do." she responds, reaching down into a drawer and pulling out a stack of about five different magazines. All of them feature her on the cover- and all have some sort of cheesy variation on 'Rising Starr' as the title of the article featuring the blonde. It's a pretty simple story: Karen Starr came out of nowhere, built Starrware from nothing, and went from rags to billions practically overnight, on the global business end.

    "So. Our mutual friend came by my apartment and asked me to see if I had an opening for someone who had good management skills, and could take care of herself. I'm afraid I don't have anything open in the management role. However, since it's -her- that's asking, I do have one of the most -important- roles in the organization available. I need a remote assistant, since I'm spending half my time in New York now." A total lie, but she's good at it. "And while Miss DuChamp is -very- capable, I can't justify having her handle my affairs at both offices."

Harley Quinn has posed:
It's very clear that there are gears turning behind Harley's blue eyes... the way they shift around at seemingly random little details could very well be disconcerting to Karen's cover identity. She's not looking at her //hair// she's looking at her //hair line//, she's not looking at her glasses... she's looking at the eyes behind them... Squinting, connecting mental dots, and wearing a face that probably looks like she's about to fart while doing so.

She heard the thing about the assistant turning her down and it's about as close to pulling her out of those inner rambling sleuthing as anything is likely to... "Ya mean the invisible woman?" Glancing back over her shoulder, then over at Karen with her brow furrowing, "Why would ya wanna ask out a ghost?" Seriously Harley, focus... "Hah.. Kiiiidding... Kidding. I'm kidding... I don't believe in ghosts.." She absolutely does.

Her hand, once she's returned it from Karen, rubs at her upper arm across her chest, and she fidgets a little in her seat. Absently flipping the magazines to look at the covers once they're laid out infront of her, but her eyes keep jumping up to look on Karen over the rim of her glasses.. "Maybe..." Unconvinced. "I don't read Times though.." She reads comics.. and Teen Magazine. Sometimes cosmo, but only when they got them write-in articles about people gettin' caught bonin'...

"Do I gotta be a ghost?" Cut it out. "I mean, do I have to be a hologram?"

Karen Starr has posed:
    The importance of this all is that Harley is -trying-. Nothing makes Karen feel more like this is the right thing to do than that. The wig is flawless- Karen's hairline looks like it's her real hairline, her eyes look like they're really brown- because, at the moment, they are.

    Karen adopts this smug grin as the other woman looks through the magazines, practically preening in a fashion unlike Power Girl- who, while she's no stranger to smugness, is not quite -that- vain- before she lets out this giggle-turned-snort-laugh that doesn't do her any favors. "No, she's not a ghost! She's just using our new teleconferencing technology. Absolutely zero cameras, you're not limited to standing or moving within a certain area, there's more to it than that but it gets jargony beyond that point. Wouldn't want to put you to sleep." There's a sigh then, as she considers all the definitely-funny to other people technology jokes she'd have told if she went on.

    "You don't have to read Time, I'm sure you saw it on the shelf somewhere. And these aren't the end, these are just the ones I was going to have framed for this office." There's a shake of her head. "No, you don't have to be a ghost. you'll really be here, at the real desk, doing real secretary things." she notes, nodding a few times. Karen is cringey. Nerdy. Mousey. But friendly enough, even if she's a little scummy, it seems.

Harley Quinn has posed:
Who would Harley be if she judged people for being a little scummy? She's the poster child for scum.. just showing up at her roommates flat and telling her they were now friends and living together.. bringing her HYENAS with her?

Someone being vain is totally flying well over the bar Quinn sets so very low for them.

"Must be.." She murmurs about said magazines, looking around the office with her lips twisting. It very well may appears as if she's wearing pancake makeup, but she's absolutely not.. her skin really is bleached that color... curling flawlessly into her creased features when she squints at Karen again with some level of recognition.

Which she ultimately shakes away.

"This's a lot bettah... better.. This is a lot bettah... fuck.." Her hand comes up to cover her mouth, "Oh my Gosh.. I'm so sorry.. I.." Karen would literally have to be living under a rock not to know who Harleen Quinzel is.. If only because The Joker, which mentionin' to her would be a bad thing, she don't like the idea of bein' compared to him at all... "I'm tryin'... but this voice is givin' me gas.. ya min' if I.." Stop pretending like she sounds even remotely profesisonal. All that went sailing off the end of the world like really crazy flat-earthers say.

She blows out a sigh and leans forward to extend her hand to Karen, "If yer offah'n a job, I'm in.. I don't even mind cleanin' toilets so much.." Eventually, soon as one of her braincells fire, the psycho-analysis portion of her observation is going to kick in.. "Do I get a compnay car or.. //at the very least// get a cool phrase I can say whenevah someone calls I know ya don't wanna talk to?"

Karen Starr has posed:
    Karen continues to wear that proud grin for a while, but as Harley continues to soldier on, trying her best, Karen can't help but slip a little further into something warmer. She leans forward onto her elbows for a moment, rocking her head to the side. "This company was founded a year ago. Sure, we're the... Rising -Starrs- of the tech world, but we're still a modern, progressive company."

    She pauses then, nodding once to Harley. "You don't have to -hide- your tattooes while you're here unless you want to. I'm also interested in you for this office, so having something approaching your accent is basically expected. I'd want you to -try- your best to shave some off the top if you can... But don't make yourself uncomfortable. If you can't speak naturally I don't think you can communicate effectively. A smile. It's not worth a billion like Power Girl's, but it's friendly enough.

    "No cleaning toilets." she states, reaching over, "But I owe our friend my life. If she says someone needs work, I'm not going to hesitate."

Harley Quinn has posed:
"Oh thank gawd..." It's like a thousand pounds was just hoist off Harley's shoulders and flung up into the upper stratosphere. Her shoulders slump down and she relaxes into the seat.. trying to look proper was //actually// hurting her back. "Well, I sure do appreciate it, I'm prolly terrible for tha' job, purely based on image an' reputation, but aint nobody goin't try as hard as me..." That part, at least, is true.

She hasn't answered any phones yet, though.

At the mention of her tattoos, Harls glances down at her thighs and wrists, then back up to Karen, "What kinna dress code ya workin' undah? I bought a whole buncha fancy, enough, clothes so tha' wont be no prollem.." And she's //definitely// got a smile. All teeth, like a shark. Actually, exactly like a shark.

"She's keen, tha' Powah Girl. She stop't me from makin' a fool'uh myself at Herowood, then flew me home even though I've.. got.. ya know.. nevahmind. Prolly shouldn't be that open wit mah new boss til ya know me bettah." She's still trying, just in a different way.

"So's I keep track of ya schedule an' answer phones? I don't know a whole lot about wha' a corperate executive does, but.. I'll be real good at it, promise." She even crosses her hear with the tip of one finger! So you know she's serious!

Karen Starr has posed:
    There's another nod or two. Karen considers that for a moment before she replies. "I'm willing to go out on a limb for you, at her word. But be warned, I can be a harsh taskmaster."

    She clears her throat after a moment, and continues. "I'll be in town about half of the time, but that doesn't mean that this is a part-time job. Miss DuChamp will handle my scheduling in Metropolis, and for the first month will be assisting you in shorthanding my schedule when the calls come in. When I'm in the office, the dress code is business smart- you don't have to go crazy, but sadly, we're looking for a buttonup and such. What you're wearing now is fine. Maybe a little overdressed but we're not going to get after you. When I'm not in the office you can work from home when you have the proper setup, but if you don't have everything ready you can work from the office. If I'm not here, nobody else is, so we're not going to get after you for showing up casual." Power Girl knows what kind of a nightmare that's going to be, but -Karen- doesn't, and maintaining that image is important.

    Another nod. "Yeah, I was on a couples cruise on the last leg out of Norway when, apparently, the chain of a World War Two undersea mine rusted itself through and blew a hole in the size of the boat so massive we weren't supposed to last an hour. Then, out of nowhere, she swoops in and just... Picks the liner up outta the water and brings us to Sweden." For some reason her tone's a little off- as if she's feigning that air of reverence.

    If one does any digging, though, the story checks out. A cruise liner boarded in Sweden, carrying- somewhat famously- Karen Starr, struck an undersea mine that had floated to the surface. Witnesses say that several minutes after the explosion rocked the boat, as it began to sink in earnest, Power Girl was cited flying over from the west. The rest is exactly as Karen said.

    Smiling, Karen nods. "Yes. The New York half of my schedul will eventually be your responsibility. You don't have to know what I do at all. You just have to know when to put things so they don't overlap with anything else. You'll also need access to my phone system at all times. If a call comes in to my New York office, it'll have to go through you." She states, leaning back and opening a drawer. She plucks a smartphone from it, and sets it down onto the desk. "I also don't have a security detail for this building but, frankly, I was told that probably wouldn't be a problem. Any questions?"

Harley Quinn has posed:
Harley is listening, even looking a little eager. She went to Wonder Woman trying to get her help with making right by her claims of going straight, but it just landed her in another person grimey employ... Unfortunately not one she can just change her Facespace relationship status and get away from..

Amanda Waller doesn't get told no.

Now she's //actually// getting a job and it's very clear on the Clownettes white face that she couldn't possibly be happier about it... a sane person would probably be nervous about how much she's grinnin' or how lucid her blue eyes actually seem to be if ya look in'em too long. Just a sea of crazy, them peepers... windows to tha soul... or at least the shattered psychi.

"Ya wont be disappoint't, much." She's giving herself some wiggle room to make mistakes... maybe legally binding for Karen, but first an' foremost Harley Quinn has to make sure Harley Quinn is okay with failing... that's what she'd have tol't herself if she was her own therapist anyhow...

Now she's watchin' Karen recount the tale of how she came to be saved by Power Girl... almost as if she was readin' it off a teleprompter.. there's somethin' off.. about it and the psychologist in her is salavating wanting to pick it apart to its base parts and reconstruct the truth... No, brain, yer not allow't ta do that... buuuut Haaaaa'leeeee... I said no.

"Business smaht, I can do tha'." Reaching out for the smartphone, working it almost like a second set of hands. She's born in '97... she basically grew up with one of these things attached to her... even if there's not been much use for one over the last two or three. "None.. One... Maybe two.. dependin' on the first.. ONE.." Holding up a finger, "Can ya write it down tha' I'm hired so I can show April, an' two.. do I get my own stationary.. cus I think't be real classy if I had a little HQ water mark, but ... ya know wha', nevahmind that- but think about it."

Karen Starr has posed:
    The Wall will get told no if she shows up to this particular place of employ, that's for sure.

    Setting standards and managing expectations is good, and Karen says as much. "Well, setting standards and managing expectations is good." See? There's enough recognition in Karen's eyes that she understands that Harley's fighting old urges back. Maybe one day Harley's chemical imbalances will reach a point where she's closer to Harleen- but, maybe, both Harleen and what was at one point Harley are, simply, gone... And what comes out of this will be something technically entirely new.

    "K-Z-L." she calls, speaking a little louder. "Hire Harley Quinn." There's an acknowledgment tone from the glass top of her desk, and then a huge number of things start happening. First, the phone just... Turns on, having had a black screen no matter how much Harley fiddled with it. Then, if Harley has a phone of her own, it starts to go off with various notifications. Emails, specifically. Contracts to sign. People that need to know she's employed will- and of course, that'll come with the perks of being a properly employed ex-con.

    This isn't just some under the table affair. This is a real, actual, legitimate, Harley Is Hired job.

    "I hadn't printed anything out, but you can show whoever you need to the emails." That the entire system was automated such that Karen could just say the command is... Impressive, but probably for the more tech-minded than Harley.

Harley Quinn has posed:
Harley looks to the phone when it suddenly comes alive, but she doesn't have a cellphone of her own.. hasn't in a year or so. At least not one that wasn't prepay. Hard to keep up a legal service plan when you're boyfriend has multiple manslaughter conviction and you yourself are, at the very least, suspected in hundreds.

You pour the poison ONE time...

No, Harley takes responsibility for it. No making excuses.

She smiles, all puffed up with her shoulders pushed forward in pride. Both hands wrap around that newly activated cellular device which she periodically glances down at just to see it.. "So, I staht now?" She's not entirely sure.. "An' do I need a bank acount? I think they froze all my accounts back in Novembah when I was... wh.." her brow furrows, smile faultering.

There's a moment.. maybe just a ghost.. possibly imagined even.. where lucidity slides across those blue eyes. Her whole resonance floods with remorse that just disappears.. leaving behind a stain in what is a supreme level of faked courage and disdain for social norms.

Somewhere, deep down, Harleen and Harley are trying to figure out who they are now. It isn't always a pleasant conversation.. and Ha'lee has to deal with the fall out from the arguments.

"Thank you." She repeats, standing up, smoothing her hands down her skirt which kind of rode a little bit in the back.. it was too short, she realizes that now. "Aint to many people doin' nice things fuh me.. an' I know yer not jus' doin' it cus of the good in ya heaht, but.. I wont let ya down, I promise." She's said that already, but still means it. "An' if someone mess's wit yer company while I'm heah, I'll... uh.. I'll escort'em from the buildin' firmly, but very politely... ya don't need tah hiuh no security while I'm heah. Aint nobody gonna mess wit't."

Karen Starr has posed:
    Karen knows the story. She's read the dossier, the criminal record, each and every record of accomplicing to mass murder, and it all starts with a young girl put in a room with... Well, we all know who. Not even really an adult and she's in the deepest mental cesspit on the planet. Prodigy or not, what did everyone think was going to happen?

    "We can pay by check, but I'd recommend opening up a new account. The city's a dangerous place, and who wants to risk carrying cash on themselves?" she asks, offering this shrug.

    Karen stands at the same time Harley does, both of them coming to the same conclusion that this is about where the meeting ends. "You technically have already started. You have time to fill out the paperwork it's all digital so you can do it from the phone. Consider that a gift, it's a generation or so behind but it's still top of the line. Your first day in the office is Monday. Until then, Ms. DuChamp will conference you in on some of the calls she receives and you'll be expected to pay some attention to what she considers important. She's good, though, so I'm sure you'll learn a lot."

    There's a smirk, then. "Yeah well, right now, all that's in this office is you and sometimes me. If somebody stops by to cause trouble, it's probably personal, so you don't -always- have to be polite." A pause, gesturing to the doors. They open, seemingly, by themselves. "You're free to go, I'll be seeing you in-office on Monday."

Harley Quinn has posed:
There's a part of her that wishes she could go back and do everything differently, but despite all the horrible things that single event led to... It made her who she is now. Harley isn't the most... well adjusted individual when it comes to self reflection, dealing with things in a round about nature that borders on laissez-faire, but she genuinely enjoys the version of herself she's starting to see now...

Call it whatever you want, but it's definitely turning a frown upside down.

"Awesome.. cooool..." Clutching the phone, glancing down at it again before taking a step back, "Not always polite, I can //definitely// do tha', I made a career outta tha'... kinna', I mean I aint get paid fer it or nothin', but I got thick files on impolite behavior..." Varying sizes, really.

She's all grins now, turning on her heels with a little hop towards the door like a kid who just got a brand new iphone.. It's the simple things, really. "I'll seeya monday then! An' Imma go tell April, she's gonna be stoke't.. mostly cus I aint been payin' rent'er nothin', an' I'm sure she'd like if if I staht't do that.." She half turns, then faces back forward to head out towards the front lobby from wence she entered.

"Ha'lee Quinn.. Personal New Yohk... Assistant to a suspiciously familiah executive who suddenly appeah't aftah bein' save't onna cruise by my newst best frien' Powah Gurl." If that sounds at all out of place to her, she's waaaay too excited about her new job to think about it overly much. "I shoul't definitely send Peej a ham.. or an edible floral arrangement.."