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Date of Scene: 28 March 2020
Location: Lily Anne's Lounge - Hellfire Club
Synopsis: Jennifer comes looking for one of her heroes, Harley Quinn... and she finds her. Drunk. Marie and Power Girl are invited to the party that ends abruptly when Harley gets sick. Proving that you should never meet your idols.
Cast of Characters: Jennifer Stavros, Harley Quinn, Karen Starr, Marie-Ange Colbert

Jennifer Stavros has posed:
Jennifer left Salem Center on the bus to New York around eleven in the morning. She will doubtless get a 'talking to' from teachers at Xavier's when she returns. 'You need to take your education more seriously, Jennifer,' blah blah blah. She has more important things to do today than doze through another chemistry class.

Because for the last couple of years, as Jennifer has established her style, her attitude, her sense of self, she has come to realize there are two people in particular who she can really look up to. One is Emma Frost, and that woman is the reason she has access to the Hellfire Club at all. And the other is Dr. Harleen Quinzel, even if Jennifer probably doesn't know her by more than her moniker: Harley Quinn.

And now Harley's a VIP in the HFC as well. It's fate! It's kismet! It's something else Marie would go on about! Jennifer has been at the club since around two in the afternoon to make sure she didn't miss the clown princess of whatever she's princess of at the moment. She has wandered from bar to bar and club to club, bugging bartenders and waitresses for any details on whether Harley is there, whether she's likely to be there, what do they know about her, dammit, where is she?

Her friends would tell you this is very out of character for the intensely and carefully cool Jennifer. But really, as she walks into Lily's, the sounds of old jazz causing her to grimace faintly -- this is not, to her way of thinking, music -- she has hope in her heart. And a little exhaustion. It's been kind of a long day.

Harley Quinn has posed:
The sound of old jazz and the gaffawing laughter of some of the wait-staff.

It is abundently clear to anyone paying even the slightest bit of attention that the source of that laughter is the very woman for whom Jennifer has spent the better part of the afternoon searching. Dressed in yellow shorts, with multi-colored suspenders over a baby-doll t-shirt, blonde hair up in little blonde piglets on the back of her 300 dollar haircut (cus someone got dollars apparently), she's grinning with her big blue eyes over the top of a pair of Gucci shades tucked way down low on the bridge of her nose.

Fire-engine red lips smack around her teeth as she noisely chews her gum, "So's I'm standin' there ovah this fella wit a .45 painted like a rubber duck an' I heah Mistah J behind me shout...-" In a //spot on// impression of the Notorious psychopath, "There's your problem, Lewis! You slipped up! Next time you're attacked by a gang of clowns, you should GO FOR THE JUGGLER!-"

Her own crisp Jersey accent falling right back in place, "An' I'm tryin' to look straight face't cus I gotta gun on this big muscle bound lunatic they call Buttercup... but I lose my ///entire/// shit right theah..." Laughing boisterously, along with the wait staff.

Jennifer Stavros has posed:
Oh god. It's her!

Okay, Jenny, be cool. Be awesome. Be the best Jenny you can be. She's HARLEY FUCKING QUINN! As long as you're not a total idiot, she's probably gonna be just fine with you. Besides! You're both Jersey girls!

This internal pep talk complete, Jenny checks herself over quickly, going so far to pull a compact from her purse to check her make-up. It's too late to do much about it, but that's okay -- it's pretty much exactly as she'd want it to be anyway. She's pretty and dressed cool and simple: tight jeans, designer tee shirt (black with green lettering that reads 'ORANGE'), nice kicks, long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. She might pass for nineteen, despite being a couple years short of that. She's satisfied.

And so she approaches the laughing vigilante and her entourage of waitstaff, trying to look cool, trying not to look nervous. And mostly succeeding. Jenny Stavros has been dealing with powerhouses for years. Not many of them make her as excited as Harley, though.

"Excuse me. Ms. Quinn? My name's Jenny Stavros. I'm a big fan."

Harley Quinn has posed:
Quinn sucks up attention like a blackhole sucks up light. Popping her gum and sharing shots with the waiters who, because she is who she is, are trying to get in close. Certainly it's got nothin' to do with the fact that all of her thighs are showing. All them little tattoos, which if story holds true, she gave herself.. The little skull and crossbones belly button ring, the chocker around her neck... bangles of every color. She'd be tacky if it weren't so very typical of her.

She has a style on her own.

And she makes it work.

Drawing her forearm, tattooed which red/black checker print, across her mouth smears the dark red lipstick all the way to her ear.. Turning towards Jenny introducing herself. "Heya, toots. I'm Ha'lee Quinn.." Offering her hand out to her, over someone, whose back she jumped on with her chin resting on his big broad shoulder.

"Ya wanna drink'er suh'n?" Nevermind that Harley Quinn is a role model like a Thirty Thirty is a childs toy, but far be it from her to turn away a fan.

Jennifer Stavros has posed:
Jenny is very aware of Harley's style. And it does work. Harley is cool. She's hot. She takes no crap from anybody. And these are things Jenny aspires to. She will likely never be as awesome as this woman before her, but if Harley is going to suck up her attention, which Jenny is very happy to give, she is, in turn, going to suck up every bit of information she can on how to be so amazing.

"Diet Coke's fine," Jenny says, glancing toward one of the waiters. "I'd be happy to imbibe in something harder, but you know, I'm underage, and as a VIP they know it." A wry smile is given. "I know just who you are, of course. I'm Jennifer Stavros -- Jenny. I come from Atlantic City, so, you know, Jersey girls, right?" A hopeful grin. Trying so hard. And her usual pile of snark seems to be missing. Which worries her a little. Where did the stuff go?

Harley Quinn has posed:
Harley slides down off the waiters back and smacks him on the rump, "Go get tha girl a diet coke! mush!" Grinning from ear to ear as she drops down into the booth seat with her feet extending out beneath and her shoulder sliding halfway down the cushion until she's practically bent in half with her arms up like an orangutan.

"Atlantic city huh? I been theah.. Several times, really." Nodding across the table for Jenny to join her as the staff goes about doing what they're gettin' paid to do, rather than lolly gaggin' with the newest VIP.

"So why aint ya in class'er whatevah?" Conversational, grabbing one of the many many shots laid out infront of her to slam it back without so much as a shiver. Girl can pack away the booze.. "Ya know, schools important..." Holding up the glass, finger extended out from it with a little swallow face and hot breath from the alcohol sliding down her throat. "Gotta get ya smart on befoah ya can get yer hot on... heh.. that sounds cliche.."

Jennifer Stavros has posed:
Jenny doesn't need to be asked twice. She settles at the table eagerly. "Yeah, grew up around the casinos. I'm not allowed in 'em anymore." She says this with a little hint of pride, but no explanation. Not that she won't explain if asked. She's pretty proud of her abilities, too.

"I go to a private school upstate," she explains. "But I'm a VIP here, and, you know, when I heard what happened yesterday I was like, wow, this is my chance to meet Harley Quinn! And seeing as I graduate in a couple months and you may not be here all that long, I decided it was worth a day of classes to meet you. It was just English and chemistry. I'll get notes from my friends.

"I'm not gonna say school's my favorite thing or whatever," she adds after a moment. "There are lots of things I'd rather be doing. But I'm not dumb. And I'm going to ESU in the fall. There's no real danger of me screwing things up so bad that I'm not gonna graduate at this point. So I'm just taking a day off to do something for me."

Harley Quinn has posed:
"Well good.. a self day is always impohtant too." Harley says with an easy grin, one finger up twirling the short length of blonde bangs hanging off the side of her face. Slowly blowing out a short bubble to pop back into her teeth with a little chomp, "I got mah PhD in criminal psychology at twenty, ya gotta hit them books.. but tha's all Imma say about tha'." Never one to be boring, or discuss at any length boring things, the Clown Princess seeds the field then moves right along to check someone elses grass.

Scooting up in the cushions and leaning forward onto her elbows, looking around the mostly empty lounge with a conspiratory brow perked, "So, why aint ya allowed in the casinos? Did ya shoot tha place up? Was ya caught fixin' the games?" A short pause, popping her gum with her back teeth, "Did ya punch the floor manager in the jewels fer pinchin' yer ass an' callin' ya sweetie?" All things for which she has been accused, no doubt.. possibly convicted?

She certainly doesn't remember her laundry list of crimes anymore. The last two/three years have been kind of a blur.

Jennifer Stavros has posed:
Jenny grins all the more broadly. "Not exactly," she says. She pulls a coin from her pocket and offers it to Harley. A normal quarter. "Flip it," she says. "I'll call it." And assuming Harley does flip it, Jenny calls it correctly every time.

"I'm a mutant," she explains, though quietly. People who know the inner circle are likely to know that mutants are not a problem for this club. But still, one has to be careful. There's a lot of anti-mutant sentiment out there. Harley has never seemed the sort to object, though, at least to Jenny's mind. "I can give people good or bad luck. And I gave a few too many people luck that was a little too good. They couldn't figure it out, but since it only happened when I was around..." She trails off, letting Harley draw the obvious conclusion from there.

Harley Quinn has posed:
Quinn snatches the quarter out of the air when it's tossed to her, rolled over her knuckles into her palm. Flipped twice to make sure there's no trick to it, then flicked up into the air several times, caught and slapped on her wrist each, and grinning when Jenny calls it to the last... "Well now.. //that// is a hell ofah talent ya got there, Jens." Holding the quarter out, between her index and middle finger, she tucks her fingers down if Jenny reaches for it and palms it.. Opening up an empty hand.

Then holds up her other hand, with the quarter between her fingers.

"I aint a mutant, but I learn't real quick tha' peoples gonna see whatevah ya show'em." Shaking her wrist, the one extended out, to drop the quarter from beneath her bangle. Twisting the fingers up near her ear still holding a very different quarter. "Tha's the first thing I learn't wit Mistah J.. It aint whatcha can do.. it's whatcha can convince someone ya can do.. an' I can convince people I can do /anythin'/..."

With her hand out anyways, she grabs another shotglass and shoots it back with a backwards jerk of her head. Smearing what lipstick remains in the other direction with the palm of her hand. "So's how'd ya get a VIP pass? I had tah give Jonnathan Crane a swirly."

Jennifer Stavros has posed:
"I read about what you did here last night. I just know Emma Frost a little." As in, Emma's a mutant and took an interest. But you don't tell other people secrets that aren't yours to share if you want to keep your VIP status.

"See, that's why I'm a fan," she notes. "Part of it, anyway. Harley, you're the coolest, hottest, and you take no shit from anybody. You're a lot like Ms. Frost. And all of that's stuff I want to be. I mean, I'm getting there, but I know I've got a lot to learn. So I follow what you do. I learn a lot that way."

Harley Quinn has posed:
"Oh, tha' was nothin'..." Harley dismiss what she did last night without actually downplaying it. It got her a VIP to the Club, it also got her a quarter million dollars, so it certainly wasn't something to shake a stick at... "Jonathan Crane an' me go way back.. Ol' creepy so'n'so.. ya evah seen his mask? He's.. god he's so weiahd." Sucking her teeth and lulling her head back.

Only to lift it again and peer across the table at Jenny. Pale red lips 'curling' upwards near the tip of her nose thoughtfully, rolling and settling, "I aint sayin' ya shoul't take nobodies shit, Jens... Cus theah aint no way I woul't, not even now.. but I done some pretty terrible things.. an' I aint proud of all of'em." A side of Harley that.. well some people have seen it.

"I was in love with a propah fuckin' crazy person.. an' I let him talk me innah killin' folks tha' don't deserve to be dead.. an' a whole lot worse'n that... So... definitely be yah on woman. Stand up foah wha' ya believe an' who ya ah, but... be bettah'n tha'.."

Good deed for the night done. "But if someone fucks wit' ya..." Leveling a finger up in that making a point gesture, "Ya stab'em so many time they don't know wheah the wounds start'n end... ya heah me? Nobody, an' I mean nobody, gets tah tell ya who ya ah... or how yah ah.. except you."

Jennifer Stavros has posed:
"I know about that, too," says Jennifer, nodding her understanding. "I mean, Joker's just about the scariest person in the world. But even I can see he's got charisma." She bites her lower lip for a moment, trying to think of just how to say what she wants to say. "I know you haven't always done the right thing, been the best person. Let's be frank: Emma Frost is awesome, but neither is she. And there are some who feel I should not, in fact, have ruined the 2016 Little Miss New Jersey pageant by performing a rendition of Mickey Avalon's 'My Dick' for the crowd." Though she is not one of those people. They deserved it. "But now you are your own person. And that's way more important to me than always being good. Being me, being respected for being me." The corner of her mouth turns upward. "And looking good doing it, of course."

Harley Quinn has posed:
"Well, I can't argue against tha'..." Harley laughs, holding her palms out in a flamboyant shrug, "If it was a crime ta look good, I'd be convict't wit'out trial... an' held wit'out bail... then pardon't cus I blew the judge." Unfiltered. The Clown Princess settles and takes another shot.

It might be the booze.

It's a known taboo subject with her to mention or talk about anything that involves the Joker for any real extent of time... "He was very charmin'." She says in a quiet voice, blue eyes flicking off and to the side, motioning at one of the waiter for more shots. "Between times when he was beatin' the hell outta me, he'd say things tha' soun't so lovin'... but tha's how tha' shit works, Jens..." Holding up that same finger, leaning forward against the table quickly, and hard enough, that some of the shotglasses clatter together.

"They'll praise ya out one side'uh ya mouth' an strike ya wit an open hand..." Furrowing her brow, glaring at the mess of shot glass. A touch of malice shining through the carefully crafted jovial demeanor that hovers around her like celestial bodies... "We shoul't talk about somethin' else." Quiet.. a boiling pot ready to explode. Upper lip twitching.

"What'er ya goin' ta school foah?" Grasping at anything to get her out of the quicksand of her own violent anger.

Jennifer Stavros has posed:
Jennifer truly did not expect that sort of commentary from Harley. It's pretty obvious to anybody who pays much attention to the villains of Gotham (and being an Xavier's school student, Jenny does take note) that Joker is the worst of the worst, and being his girlfriend? Jennifer may consider herself very neutral when it comes down to questions of good and evil, but she has no doubts that the Joker would not make for good boyfriend material.

Even beyond the fact that he has neither the looks of Thor nor the money of Tony Stark.

But she can see that it takes something out of her heroine to talk about this, and maybe it IS the drink, but Jennifer feels a little honored that Harley has let down her guard so much.

She reaches out to pat Harley's forearm gently. There's nothing pitying about it. It's just an acknowledgement of what she's said, maybe a hint of respect in it. "I'm planning to study math," she says, not speaking a word about Joker or Harley's past now. "It's dorky, but with my powers I've got something of a knack for probability. And if nothing else, I figure I can make a killing as an accountant."

Harley Quinn has posed:
The shift might appear instant, but it's not. Harley's crafted a persona to slid into when things she's thinking about get too hard to deal with, like some heroes use their masks.. Instead of covering her face with fabric, however, she lets a smile curl up the smeared red lips of her face. Deliberately not looking across the table until she's certain that she's some measure of control, because there's a whole mess of darkness that comes across those blue eyes when she's twelve shots in and thinking about Puddin'.

Villages have been burned down for less.

And she's genuinely trying to do better.

So it does take a while for her to look up, despite her appearing, outwardly, perfectly fine up to that point. And it's as if none of it happened at all. Behold, the curtains are closed on the cast has gone home... the only production left is the lights cutting on for audience members to exit the building. "Math? Really? Well... ya wanna help me do some investin'? I jus' came intah a fuck uh money an' so fah I've done my Gawd damn't best to blow it in one shoppin' trip.." It's said mostly as a lark. Snatching one of the shots off the tray before the waiters set it down on the table to suck down. Tongue twirling inside the small glass to get at all the tequila inside.

Jennifer Stavros has posed:
"I mean, at the moment, just have me hang around when you're gonna pick stocks to invest in. And, like, don't put a lot of thought into it. Pick 'em at random. I guarantee the stocks you wind up with will gain value, at least in the short term." She twiddles her fingers and a tiny white ball appears in them -- like one of the pellets Pac-Man ate in the games that are at least as old as Jenny's mom. "When I get around to the accounting stuff, I'm sure I can keep your books spotless -- but right now, I'm best at just making your random choices work out for the best." A shrug, a grin. And she's pleased to see Harley's back to her usual self, even if she's managed to catch a glimpse of the pain the woman feels. In some people that'd bring on the force of Jennifer's full scale bitchiness. But not for Harley.

Harley Quinn has posed:
There's a part of her, deep down maybe, that wishes someone wouldn't pull their punches.

Harley keeps grinning, oh sure she does, that's her.. smile through pain, blood teeth and busted lips, black eye of life? Fix it with a grin.. but always that knowledge in the back of her .. admittedly broken.. psychi that screams for someone to tear her ass in half for the things she's done.

"Well looks like yer mah new compadre.." She says with her brows bouncing expressively, tongue tickling out from between her perfect white teeth that were bought and paid for with the pain and suffering of others. "Imma staht a business innah very neah fuchah, Jens.. soon's I figgah out wha' kind.. Imma come hunt'n ya to handle mah books.. cus I don't know shit about keep'n'em... Even when I was workin' legally as a psychiatrist at Arkham, my checkbook was a horror story waitin' for D Snyder tah turn innah a manuscript.."

She's //very// clearly drunk. Throwing back more shots as if the end of the world was nay and she intends to face it fully shit faced, but as cognitively unimpaired as she ever is, it's like it does little to lower her already twisted level of consciousness and judgement capabilities.


"Wanna go blow forty thousand dahlahs on shit we don't need?"

Jennifer Stavros has posed:
Jennifer knows full well that Harley's drunk. She is attendee of enough teen parties (and college parties, for that matter) to see all the signs. But that's okay, because Jennifer rather suspects that this is not an unfamiliar situation for Harley -- and besides, Harley wants to blow money with her.

"I'm all about blowing money on shit I don't need," she says brightly. "And I happen to know of half a dozen parties in the city where you'd be a VIP attendee flat broke. With cash, you're going to own everybody there!"

Harley Quinn has posed:
"Ya had me at own everybody." Harley says with a side ways tug to pull herself out of the bench with only a slight stumble, catching herself on the edge of the table. The weight shift turning over at least a half dozen shot-glasses in the process. "I'm good..." Hands up, wrists turned outward, tongue sticking up and against her upper lip. Her right leg elevates, knee curling over her left with her hip sticking out to the side. Head back like she's coming out of a pyramid on a football field. "Come'on, let's go fuck some shit up..."

This is not the role model Harley wants to be.

This is the Harley where terrible things happen. Dramatically skipping towards the exit with her hips switching back and forth. "First! We gottah get a cah.." Finger to her lips, eyes squinting as she looks around, "TERRY!" That isn't his name, "Does bein' VIP get me valet service or suh'n? Me'n muh protige are about tah..." Puffing cheeks, blowing out a volcanic belch that actually makes the Clownette gag. Eyes going from half slits to open wide when the smell hits her, "Ugh..."

Jennifer Stavros has posed:
One thing about Jenny is this: if she cares about somebody, she can be awfully responsible. And she does care about Harley, who so recently became a real person in her mind. Not merely somebody to aspire to be. "Even if it doesn't," she notes, "with forty K we can Uber anywhere."

She pretends she can't smell the vapors that Harley just released, though she carefully averts her nose. Rising from the table herself, she offers Harley her arm in a way that suggests 'Two girlfriends hitting the town' far more than 'One friend offering an arm to somebody who's possibly too drunk to walk straight.' Thank goodness for rideshare.

Harley Quinn has posed:
Harley's no stranger to the subtle arm of stability. Which like the Fist of Justice is always there when needed! Her arm dangles into the loop Jenny provides, not so much hanging off her as using her to support herself. Walking as much under her own authority as she can given the number of empty shot-glasses on that table.

"If we was in Gotham, I know this amazin' place ovah by Robinson pahk.. An undahground club, very exclusive.. like heah, really.." Motioning around with a finger, "Not a fancy though.. moah..." Snapping her fingers as she half walks, half stumbles through the halls. She's dangerous enough to draw tons of attention in this condition.. especially with Sebastians warning to keep an eye on her incase she goes loose cannon. DISTINCTLY possible, right now.. "Moah, uh.. Crimshaw than Madison Avenue.. My guy theah knows how tah get ahold of the best molly I've evah had.. real clean.."

But they're not in Gotham. And despite the fact Harley's been clean for months, she's also not been drunk in that long. "Ugh... wha's the cah?" She hasn't called for one. "Oh right..." Giggle snort, waving a hand in the air to slap down against her back pocket and the rather expensive looking cellphone. "Limo.... liiiiiiimooooo... Stretch't hummah?" Pulling a face, reading some of the accessories "Fully stock't bah.. sound system.. strob lightin'.." Bobbing head nod, "Well ya got mah business."

Jennifer Stavros has posed:
"Sounds like a great deal," Jenny says brightly. She is quite sure that while Harley's a little stumbly, she has a lot of fight left in her. "It's a party on wheels -- just gotta find some people to share it with, right? Too bad it doesn't have a hot tub." Which is said at least in part to give Harley the idea that there could be a better car to be had if she tries.

As they leave the table, though, Jenny has presence of mind to slide a decent sized bill onto the table behind her. It's probably not quite what the waitstaff might expect from Harley, but it's what she herself can afford for the moment. Sure, they're VIPs, but waiters gotta eat, too.

Harley Quinn has posed:
When she's sober and remembers, if she remembers, Harley will tip these guys like they were serving up plates of gold bars. She's just not working on all four cylenders right now. Side glancing Jenny mentioning a hot tub, "Ya think?" Because she definitely got the Princesses brain twirling around that idea, thumbing through the options until she finds one that... "Huh.. I was absolutely shure theah was no way they't have a hot tub in a limo, but..."

The More you know.

"I unno, I aint bring a swim suit an' it's too cold foah naked..." Thumbing back to the stretche hummer to order one. "As... soon.. as... possible... tip..pi..ng.. big..." Thumbing the keys to add a comment and send off the request.

"Alright, now, we need moah people foah this pahtey.. I'm tempt't to call mah roommate April, but she's prolly still workin'.. or tryin' on all the damn clothes I jus' boughtah.." Drumming her chin, phone returned into the tight back pocket of her shirts. "Red's in Arkham.. I think.. I shoul't check on Red, gawd I miss her.. yah evah met Poison Ivy?" How could she? WHO KNOWS THOUGH RIGHT?

Random drunk thoughts.

"Oh Terry an' his boyfrien'.. hol'on lemme see if theah awake..." Phone back out, "HEY.. WAKE. UP. PHATEY.. LIMBO....


Reading out loud because it's weird to text people where the others can't see.

"Yer gonna loooove Terry.. tha' or absolutely hate'em.. ethah way, he's datin' a green dude, so it's boun't ta be entertainin'."

Jennifer Stavros has posed:
"Never met her," Jenny says, "but her reputation certainly speaks for itself." Ivy is somebody for whom Jennifer would have a great deal of respect, but probably not a ton of understanding. Jenny Stavros is very much devoted to herself, and not much beyond that. Giving up one's freedom to save the planet? When one could be watching Thor in a hard hat drinking Diet Coke?

"Is the green dude a mutant?" Jenny wonders. "I know a green mutant dude. And he's gay, I think..." Though she doesn't think Anole's dating anybody, and if he is, well, she wouldn't know if the boyfriend was named Terry anyway. "I could call Marie, but it might take her awhile to get down here. Unless Illyana's around..." She pulls out her own phone and sends off a text or two in turn, though without announcing her misspellings and whatnot.

Harley Quinn has posed:
Harley isn't stumbling, your stumbling, and she's certainly not hanging on the shoulders of an underage girl, that would be exactly the oposite of what new and improved Ha'lee Quinn would do.. Except someone gave her a bucket load of money and as celebration she's consumed her body weight in alcohol.

"Uhh, maybe.. he turns innah animals.. I think he's famous'uh suh'n.. Onna tha' sidekick group.." The Titans. "Wit' Robin, Robin two, Robin three.. all tha' fuckin' Robins.." But that's all the Titans she knows, "ANIMAL BOY! His name is Animal Boy.." She shouts as they start towards the elevator down to the lobby..

Harley practically laying in the corner trying not to think about movement, blue eyes crossing and uncrossing. Her hand drops to her pocket to retrieve the phone, but frowns when she doesn't see any texts, "What'evah, don't text me back then.. see if /I/ ca-eh.. Ya help a fella get ovah his stalwart inability to move onna person he likes an' suddenly yer on a now respond list?" Pffffffffffffffffh...

Clutching the phone in both hands to staring at the blank screen, "UGH!... Oh wait..."

Harley shrugs off the wall and turns around in a slow circle starin' up at the lights, "PEEJ! PEEEEEEEJ I KNOW YOU CAN HEAH ME.. I GOT A STRETCH LIMO AN' NEED MORAL POLICE!" Screaming at the ceiling as if that is somehow /sure/ to gain the Kryptonians attention.

"I'mma text" Quote fingers, still clutching her phone, "-Powah Girl.. she's basically mah third best frien' on tha planet.. Nice rack too." Kissing her fingers in an invert expanding star.

"Oh hey, Terry replied." Super chill. Nonchallent like she didn't just curse his name. Thumbs moving on the keys.

Karen Starr has posed:
    To the credit of Jen's mutation, Power Girl hadn't necessarily been in bed or particularly at peace. In fact, somewhat at random, she'd actually been looking to check in on Harley when she... Received the text.

    She lets out the sigh -before- she covers the distance. Admittedly, there isn't a whole lot more sobering than a six-foot-three blonde that could probably flip the continent if she lost at chess, showing up in some ridiculous denominatored fraction of a second, accompanied by a gust of wind.

    To emphasize how sobering it might be, Harley shouts, and Power Girl- who was almost two hundred miles away at the time- arrives just before the word Powah.

    Her arms are folded- because it's not against the law yet- and she looks stoically nonplussed at being called, but she still -came- so that's what's important. As well, considering the role Karen's had in Harley's life, she feels a continued sense of responsibility. She stopped Harley from making some bad decisions before. She'll hopefully be able to do that now.

    "Harley, are you sure this is a good-" Oh, she's at least Many drinks in. "You already got started." she states, placing a hand on her face, and pinching at the bridge of her nose. Batman has not yet tried to get her attention in any way- but a surefire way to rev up the Scowl Engine is to just let Harley do whatever she wants, when you can at least shave some off the top.

    "Yeah. Okay. Let's go."

Jennifer Stavros has posed:
"The green guy I know is just a teen lizard boy," Jenny says mildly. "Marie texted back. She says... oh, Marie." The girl sighs softly, shaking her head. "She's French and she hasn't quite gotten the hang of spelling in English. She says she's just a block away." Pause. "A 'blocque' away, anyway." Still, this has turned into quite the evening out. She'd hoped to just talk to Harley for awhile, and now they've got a limo and they're going to meet up with Power girl. And Marie, which is even better, because Jenny gets to show off her friend, too.

Though, much as she does love Marie, she is somewhat less impressive than Power Girl. But she's French, which Jenny figures counts for something. It's not Kryptonian exotic, but close enough!

"What's Terry say?" she wonders as she considers who else she might text. She has a feeling Kitty is too straight-laced for this. This feels like a girls' night sort of thing, so 'Berto and Aaron are out. She's not sure she even has Aaron's number. And... well, lots of people just don't like her in general.

And Gabby. I mean, letting Gabby have a sip of beer at the party last weekend was one thing. Dragging her out with a drunk Harley would almost certainly get her stabbed by Gabby's big sister.

And then there's a 'whoosh' and... "Oh. Hello," Jennifer says to the tall, stacked blonde. "I'm Jennifer. Uh. Harley was just talking about you." Jenny was already aware of Power Girl's... amplitude. But it's that much more impressive in person. Still, Jenny mostly manages to keep her eyes above that particular line. "Nice to meet you."

Marie-Ange Colbert has posed:
Fate has a funny way of working out when Marie and Jennifer combine.

1 blocque away is typed into her phone as the response from Marie after a the typical few moments that it takes for Marie to decide how things are spelled. Jenny's seen it before -- she /answers/ texts, especially from Jenny, right away. It just takes her a while to type them without just responding in French. Which she doesn't do to Jenny. Much.

It's not long before she arrives in physical form, either. Clad simply, black blouse, maroon skirt, beige pack slung over a shoulder and even a black beret worn delicately atop her hair.

...well, at least it HAD been. Until she got, responded to the text, checked her cards... and came running. Quite literally. She arrives with it in her hand, a little out of breath, and only when she stops does she replace it atop her head. Trying to straighten it out while looking for...

"Jennifer!" One long arm reaches up to wave in the younger blonde's direction. "C'est moi!" she adds, as if pointing out that it's her is really /needed./ Which... it might be, as Jenny's not alone. There's a moment of tension to her posture before she recalls the text didn't say she was ALONE. Dipping down into a formal curtsey, she offers a polite, if slightly hesitant smile. "Madams. Je m'appelle Marie. You are friends of Jennifer?" she asks... glancing between the pair that are near the one she knows. Then more skeptically at Harley, then at Jen in a 'is she alright?' kind of way.

Harley Quinn has posed:

"She spell't it blocque? Did it have tha lil accent ovah the e?" Harley's already grinning. Her lipstick is smeared across her cheeks in either direction which leaves very little on her actually lips. It gives her a sickening grin that looks like a clowns painted on smirk, but the pearly white teeth only have a little dab of pink across them where she's been rubbing it on them all night.

Back to WOOSH

There's a Power Girl, all arms crossed and clevage windowow. Harley is excited as a kid in an all you can eat Candy Story, leaning directly into the much taller woman to hug her as if that's a completely normal thing to do.. And, in her defense, she really did trip... which is why her face enters that clevage window.


"Hey Peej, wasn't sure ya hear't me." That's only partially true. Lifting her face out of the full on motorboat, snapping around to Marie jogging towards them, "Bonjour! Je m'appelle Ha'lee Quinn. Heureux que vous puissiez venir avec nous!" Startling //herself//... "Whoa, I didn't even know I know't french... Weiahd..."

The stretched hummer hasn't arrived yet, but it can't possible be far away. Which is a good thing because it doesn't look like Harley can stand well under her own power. Stumbling forward when just standing still, catching herself and patting the air. "I'm fine.." Eyes half lidded, stumble, correct.. "Hey! I'm Ha'lee Quinn." Extending her hand out towards Marie, possibly unaware that's the second time she's introduced herself.

"Mmm.." Glancing at Jens, turning a little too quickly and bumping against Power Girl, ankle rolling off the curb and almost falling if not for grabbing hold of the Kryptonians cape to keep her aloft. "Oh.. he says he's sick wit a temperature.. which soun's like //bullshit// tah me.. whatevah.. I'll send'em nyquil an' grape soda... leeeeaaan..."

Karen Starr has posed:
    Karen's head is turned towards Jennifer first, and she nods in the woman's direction. "Good to meet you Jennifer. I uh, I heard." she states, looking back at Harley for a moment- that nonplussed expression remains the same. She's yet to crack a smile, but she only catches the tail end of Harley tipping forward, and falling into the ocean.

    Karen lets out another sigh. This is probably going to be a long night, but Harley's won her heart in a way. There aren't many people on the planet she'd do this for. After the woman speaks, Karen reaches up, and assists with fishing her out. Poor girl could drown.

    "Listen, I'm just going to make sure nobody does anything crazy." A pause. "Well, -violent- crazy." There's a question about how Harley could afford this that Power Girl doesn't ask. She lets Harley wander off, and perhaps Karen will be the least surprised that Harley speaks French- College requires foreign language, and she's pretty sure Harley has never half-assed anything in her life.

    When Harley returns, Karen's face wrinkles but otherwise she doesn't stop Harley from using her as a way to balance. "I imagine that the limo's on its way- Because that's one of the places I'm drawing the line. -I'm- not a limo. We're going to have to agree on that."

Jennifer Stavros has posed:
The 'is she alright?' look from Marie is returned with a subtle gesture to indicate that Harley has clearly had too much to drink. Subtle in that Jenny is sort of behind Harley when she makes said gesture. Certainly Power Girl can see it. Jenny, herself, is sober as a judge at the moment, And not one of those judges who keeps a bottle of rum behind the bench. She's had Diet Coke, and was sort of trying to distract Harley from hiring the limo (or at least getting one with a hot tub) when all of this happened.

"Harley, Power Girl, this is Marie-Ange Colbert. So far as I know she's not related to the guy who's got the late night show, but she's my best friend, and she puts up with a lot, so, you know, she's cool. Glad you could make it, Marie." She's sort of in awe of Harley, and that Harley summoned Power Girl to be their chaperone has not lessened her fascination. Just added fascination with Power Girl to the mix. This is insane. "We're waiting for the stretch Hummer to arrive."

Marie-Ange Colbert has posed:
Marie, admittedly, leans towards the straight-laced side herself. She's /perfectly innocent/ and has led a very sheltered life.

That being said? The redhead is also very easily influenced, and perhaps especially easily so by the youngest girl in the group. Best friends for life, afterall.

Harley's introduction makes green eyes go wide. That... was /French./ The most coherent she's heard in her entire time in America, or at least the longest sentence! Lowering her guard for an instant, she babbles back, "Que c'est bon un autre francophone! Il y a tellement de choses que j'ai essaye de dire a Jennifer et ..." ...and she's gone. Marie deflates a little as the French speaker's attention turns away from her -- one of the few times she actually /wanted/ the attention, and even before she could shake the offered hand. How rude of her! Marie will feel bad for a little while over this.

The signal is seen, nodded to once, and tucked away in Marie's mind -- she's seen drunk people before. Probably thanks to Jenny. She knows more or less how to deal with them. Either way, she puts on the best smile she can, "A pleasure to meet you both -- and to be here." that heavily accented voice offers back, hands tucking behind her waist. She might be naive, but she at least knows better than to talk about WHY she happened to be in the area when she got the text from Jenny.

/Adults,/ even in fancy outfits, didn't need to know about the things that the teenagers probably SHOULD be doing, afterall, and she knows not to be a snitch!

"I've never seen a stretch /hummer/ before..." Truth be told, before moving to America she'd never even heard the term 'stretch' applied to cars. The concept of limos, however, is one of the growing list that she's caught on to between then and now.

Harley Quinn has posed:
You know there's an old saying about alcohol lubricating the thoughts that were already in someones head, but it doesn't say a lot about what that lubrication might do for someone like Harley who barely cowers from what she's thinking anyways. Girls an open book, most of the time, even if that book is upside down and printed in sandskrit. She dangles precariously backwards on surprisingly stable balance for someone whose clearly three to seven equal length shits to the wind... Her hand coiled into Power GIrls cape, her center of gravity adjusts on her one foot still planted on the sidewalk to pivot around it! The other is extending outward, same as her hand, like two parts of a human T..

The balance cannot sustain alcohol consumption of this magnitude, though! When the slow twirl of her body moving sends her off the access of her ankle, requiring her to actually adjust her balance, she doesn't... she just falls around in a circle and ends up sitting against the back of Peej's legs on the curb! "Intentional! Meant to do tha'!" She did not! Lesson one for both of her new young cohorts, however: Harley Quinn can do anything she puts her mind to. Including make herself appear incontrol of something she absolutely is not in control of.

"Help uppppp!" Both arms extending up above her, head tucked down against her own, not terribly modest, bossom... Her's are //definitely// fake though.

"Wait! I've receive't message from Terry! Postpone mah standin' reservations one moment pleeeeeeease..." Phone up, both hands, held out at full arms length with one eye closed. "Dear frien' of Terry. I thank you, sir or madame, for carin' for our shared associate. He is darlin' an' shoul't not be left alone in this great time of need. If ya will be present durin' the extent of his recuperation, please inform him of my good wishes an' let him know I will be sendin' him nyquil wit' grape soda. Yurs truly. Reform...ED.. murder.. clown.

"PS. I have a very boisterous Kryptonian here who is seein' to any potentially dangerous demonic possessions hetherto referred to as limo from hell. Ex Oh... Ex Oh.. H...arleeeey.. Quinn."

Arms back up above her head, "HELP UPPPPP!"

Answering Karen's concerns of being the limo, "Ohhh the things what jus pop't innah mah head.." Grinning impishly, or what she //thinks// is impishly and is actually sloppy drunk with smeared lipstick and running eyeliner, up at Karen.. NOW for our french audiences watching at home? "Eh bien, j'aime Jens, donc si je peux aider a combler le fosse linguistique, il suffit de le faire savoir a une chienne.." Thumbs up for Marie, big grin, still sloppy.

She's not trying to flirt with her though. "I think my butt is wet... did I pee?" She's checking, patting herself, "No.. did someone else pee?" She's not gonna check anyone else, this is a family scene.

Karen Starr has posed:
    Ah, the glorious life of a jungle gym. Despite that the other woman is climbing around on her somewhat, at the very least using her cape in ways that it wasn't really meant to be used- but, luckily, the cape is not only strong enough to keep its place when Power Girl on occasion flies in front of jet engines, but it's secured to, perhaps, the strongest woman. The exact scope of that statement might be in question- but it probably starts at 'on the planet' and only increases.

    Harley falls, and Karen is ready to pick her back up, but she postpones that to send a text... Loudly. Which is the exact, well, -opposite- of the point of sending a text. Karen's hand idly finds itself covering her face. A soft exhale. Still, she hasn't left. Actions are speaking louder than words.

    Karen's French isn't the best- so she doesn't try. She only had time to learn so much of so many languages back home before things... Went to shit. While Harley's texting, she speaks back to Marie. "Well, it's good to meet you, Marie. I've been asked by Harley to make sure things stay... As close to harmless as possible." She'd extend her hand to the woman, save it's about to be occupied, reaching behind her back to help Harley up.

    "I've got my work cut out for me, I've noticed." There's a pause. "Nobody- Nobody did, Harley. We're in the clear."

    She doesn't address whatever popped into Harley's head. That's probably a question that never needs answering.

Marie-Ange Colbert has posed:
"Tres bien, merci, Madame Quinn!" is returned to Harley's statement in French. She will /remember/ that. Because, frankly, there are times when the offer made is one that she can most certainly use. Though, HOW she'll make use of it beyond tonight is difficult to say.

Although in fairness, despite Jen's signal and Harley's... behaviour? The woman seems surprisingly aware of herself and what's going on. Probably. She thinks. Either way, both hands are offered to the fallen Quinn in order to help her up, before she's beaten to it by one of the other women present. It's probably for the best. Marie's only recently stopped looking entirely malnourished thanks to access to Xavier's fridge, and still isn't the /strongest/ when it comes down to it, by any means.

...although, that last comment from said Reformed Murderclown? She'll let someone /else/ check, getting a little red in the cheeks just at the idea.

Then, turning her attention back to Karen, she responds, "...and Jennifer has surely invited me along in order to have fun, and see more of the ways that Americans live." Honestly, fun was usually Jen's reason to do most things, Marie's noticed... and there's a part, deep down inside of her? That enjoys their hijinx, too. Not prevalent enough to go /seeking/ these times out... but when the one and only Ms. Stavros wants to drag her off somewhere? Marie's a pretty easy drag-ee.

Not that she wouldn't be /normally,/ but... even easier for Jen.

"It is probably wise that we have a chaperone. The city, I have heard that she is not always kind." Understatement, much? Although, this group is definitely one that could take care of themselves, should push come to shove.

Harley Quinn has posed:
"uggggnh..." The sound of a Harley Quinn pulling herself up with Karen's assistance and then leaning heavily upon the statue that is her Kryptonian savior... more than just this evening, in fact.. it's multifacetted. "Guys.." She says, looking more than a little green around the gills, "I don't think I'm feelin' so good..." The arm not around Karen danglings down against her stomach, blinking a few times rapidly.

"Hey, Peej, can ya give me a ride't back home? I think maybe it's foah tha best if'n we postpone this lil rondevous for an evenin where I aint had twenty somethin' shots of tequila.." Which finally puts a rough number to it, and could vary depending on lucidity and Harley just exagerating for the sake of Harley does that.

"Marie.. you'n.. Jens.. you two take tha limo.. home... Provide't Powah Girl is fine wit playin' limo foah /me/.." Nudge nudge of a clowny elbow in a Kryptonian side, "Huuuuh? We nevah got ta dance neatha, don't think I fahgot..You owe me one dance an' I aim to collec't..."

Karen Starr has posed:
    Karen raises a brow, and looks almost concerned for Harley as the woman seems to start getting sick. There's a flash of knowing on her features as the woman's tolerance finally finds its limit. "Yeah. That's what shots do to you." she says, her tone more joking than anything else. She was basically guessing it was shots, because Harley didn't seem like a Whiskey Neat kind of girl.

    Idly, she curls her arms behind her, to make it easy for Harley to climb into a secure holding position- arms around Karen's neck. Legs secured in her arms, or wherever she decided to put them. "Come on, up." she urges, softly. "It's for the best. I'll get you home."

    She starts to quietly and calmly rise into the air. Completely opposite to how she arrived, Karen's departure is going to be smooth, with no real motion to it to upset her passenger. "Listen, if the limo doesn't show, you two just shout. I'll get you back where you belong." she states, offering the pair of them a friendly smile.

    At that point, she will continue to rise at a soft pace, making no swift turns or spins. If not stopped, she and Harley will depart the club- and then make their way towards April's.

Marie-Ange Colbert has posed:
More often than not, Jennifer's the one who drags Marie into things, and Marie... doesn't drag Jennifer out of things. She just doesn't have the strength of personality to overrule the more confident woman on a decision. However... there was a reason that she /ran/ over like she did. The tarot foretold of a distasterous evening ahead that she needed to prevent, and as such, she's empowered to be the wet blanket here.

"I know you wanted to spend more time with your friends Jennifer, but we should be getting back home, non? Let Madame Quinn rest in the care of Madame Power Girl." she tells the youngest blonde, before making a bit of a face at response. Marie and Jenny in a paid-for limo? They might not be going straight home.

Regardless, she turn turns her attention to the other women, dropping down into another polite curtsey. "Oui, Madames, we will take the limo home." ...eventually... "...and I will keep that in mind, Madame Power Girl!" ...although, she might get Jenny to do any actually yelling. Young Ms. Colbert is far more soft-spoken, and she doesn't immediately realize super-hearing is a factor at play here. "I hope you feel better, Madame Quinn!"