881/The things we don't say

The things we don't say
Date of Scene:	31 March 2020
Location:	April's Apartment
Synopsis:	Revelations abound in this character picture. Terry comes to tell Harley big news, and scary news, while Harley reveals a temporarily lucid moment of clarity with advice and her own good fortunes. Diamond-studded banana hammock. AND Motorboating. Thanks Terry. He didn't motorboat Harley.
Cast of Characters:	Harley Quinn, Terry O'Neil

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Harley Quinn has posed:
Harley Quinn is back from Gotham after her visit earlier this morning before dawn. She spent a few hours goin' through tha old neighboahoods, talkin' to some of hu' friends, etc an' so on an so foath. Now she's home, laid on the couch with her cellphone lying on the table behind her head with an earpiece running up beneath her $300 dollar cut and dye job... Same colors, only professional.

She's no makeup on, currently, and she's still just as pale.. and there's easily tens of thousands of dollars worth of swag laying around in bags throughout the apartment. "Yea, I'm hu' assistant foah the New Yohk branch.. Ha'lee Quinn.. Yeah that Ha'lee Quinn.." Chewing her gum until it pops in her back teeth.

She's wearing silk boxer shorts with little dookie piles on them and a neon pink tube top ovah tha girls. Which she adjusts, looking down with a wrinkly fat chin at her boobies to make sure she's aint lost a nip oah had a wardrobe accident.

The door in the alley has been replaced, along with the door frame, and it looks like new security has been installed... heavy duty shit hidden to look mundane, but it's pretty sophisticated.. We'll let April be heah foah that reveal though. Suffice to say it can be lock't an unlock't from either of the occupants phones.. or the wall unit.

"A five thuty appointment Next Monday aftah noon? Lemme check'ah schedule..." Reaching back for her phone to thrumb through Starrwares systems to see whether Karen Starr is even going to be in New York at that time, "We'll get back to ya. Aftah I update wit Ms. Stahh."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
<<Haaaarl, are you at Ape's? Can I come over?>>

Terry may have a nose for news, but he is often woefully underinfomed concerning new developmens with his nearest and dearest... mostly because, more often than not, he is busy with developments happening *at* him. Yes, at him, because the sheer violence and explosiveness of some of his most recent upheavals can't be described in any other way.

Take, for example, the fact that he's still wearing his biking gloves as he approaches April's apartment. Even though he is not, in fact, biking there. Technically speaking, he could go to April... but he secretly hopes Harley is in, because this feels like... way more Harley's league than Ape's.

Yeah, Terry has no idea, does he?

Harley Quinn has posed:
>: Yeah just buzz the door an I'll let you up, I got you something :<

"Yes ma'am, we'll get back wit'chu at tha latest tomorrow mo'nin. Mmhmm... Thank ya foah callin' Starrwah."

Clicking off the call, she removes her headset and lays both behind her, one leg dangling over the back of the couch absently bouncing as she turns the volume back up on Air Bud. Turning over on herside to proper her chin in her palm, waiting for Terry to come up.

Bud and Lou are suspiciously absent, but don't worry ya head none, they jus' at the vet gettin' they teefs clean't.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
As Terry is buzzed in, he takes a deep breath and heads up. Goodness knows what Harley may have gotten him- it could be a plush toy, it could be a carnivorous plant. She means well, though, even if her frame of reference is somewhere between Jupiter and Wonderland, with occasional stops through Earth.

Which, incidentally, makes her ideal for what he needs to talk about.

The absence of the hyenahs is noted with some relief- he has no idea what their reacion would be if they smelled what is under his gloves.

"Heeey Harl, it's me!" He calls out, cautiously as he approaches the door.

Harley Quinn has posed:
"Doah's unlock't hot stuff." Harley shouts from her position on the couch. One leg over the back cushions, the other dangling down on th floor, all spread out like a Gotham hooker after prom night. When the front door opens, she props up on her palms and pulls her legs in to spring over the back of the couch with the kind of effortless that could go south in a less agile person.

She don't even stumble!

"Ya shoulda come out wit us tha othah night, ya miss't a doozy of a time." Grinning mischevously, not yet looking up at her friend as she's kneeling down looking through all them bags on the floor. And there's quite a few of them... jewelry, clothes, underwears.. electronics, high end candy.

She holds one bag up over her shoulder, "Happy Jewish Christmas in March." Spinning up to her feet to face the redhead. "Technically its foah ya'n an' ya hunka hunka, though.." All wide grins spreading until the little heart on her cheek creases.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Terry has been doing parkour for /years/, he's gotten extremely good at it. When he really gets into the zone, he manages a certain type of grace, the kind that clearly has a lot of elbow grease behind it and never looks quite as easy as it should. What Harley did? He's a one-legged goat in a bouncy castle by comparison.

"I am so sorry I couldn't come," Terry says apologetically, "It sounds like I missed one hell of a night. I couldn't come because-"

And he trails off as Harl starts rummaging through bags.

There's an awful lot of bags...

Oh god. Did she rob a bank?

No, wait, Harl didn't do that anymore.

Did she rob a gang of bank robbers?

"Aw Harl, you shouldn't have... that's awfully sweet of you..." he peers into the bag, because curiosity killed the cat.

Harley Quinn has posed:
"Yeah ya did.." Harl says cryptically, practically bouncing waiting for Terry to take a peek inside, grin spread all across her face with her teeth clamped down on the gum she'd been chewing for as long as she'd been approved. Same piece. Veruca Salt can suck her butthole.

When he peers inside, the sheer amount of rhinestones and glimmering jewels twinkling in the little bit of light spilling into the open top is mind boggling. On further inspection there's a little bit of cloth involved too.

And the rhinestones are not rhinestones at all... they're diamonds.

It's a diamond encrested Banana Hammock.

"Now ya can bling while ya boing."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Terry stares. Suddenly, the world around him falls away and Harley is standing in front of him in a silk strapless, floor-length shocking pink dress with straight neckline, with uncovered arms and broad shoulders and side slits. Her hair is exquisitely coiffed. Terry blinks for a second, and Harley suddenly breaks out into song

~The Titans are glad to die for love
They delight in powered duels
But I prefer a man who lives
And boings in expensive jewels~

And just like that, the vision is gone and reality is back to normal.

Terry tries to recover, blinking several times and says "... Harley, this is... " he looks down. Yep. Those are diamonds. He can tell, because he's seen rhinestones. More times than he would be willing to admit in public, and for reasons for which he will not go into details, "This is... amazing. Um..." he pauses, "How did you..." he looks at the bags, "Did you capture a supervillain and get the ransom? This is... super expensive..."

He pauses, and blushes. "Gar and I aren't... at that stage yet... but I did kiss him!"

Because he really should give the gal something juicy after nearly drowning her in ellipsis.

He does not mention the vision. This is not the first time it has happened since the reason that is causing him to wear gloves came about. It's, frankly, starting to disturb him.

Harley Quinn has posed:
~ Where the world lines up around the block
And all the worlds a stage for you
Put away the flints and lock
And grab a pair of dancing shoes ~

Harley spins, clapping excitedly at Terry's expression upon seeing the gift inside, "Technically, yeah.. Well, kinna.. Jonnathan Crane hit tha lil fund rais'ah the Hellfiah club was holdin' a few nights ago, an' I was theah.. He had everyone freakin' out wit his feah gas, but tha' shit don't wohk on me.. so Mistah Shaw tol't me if I cap'chu'd whoevah was responsible he'd rewahd me.."

From inside her tube top she produces an unmarked black card, wiggling it between two fingers, "Two hun'rit an fifty thousand dollahs!" Eyebrows bouncing, grin only spreadin', jubilation an' elation evident. "An' I got a job wit' Karen Starr as hu' personal assistant heah in New Yohk.. So I got a job too!" practically beaming, eyes almost squinting for how excited she so clearly is.

MORE SO when he admits to kissing Gar, "Did ya lick'es tonsils?! Tell me every detail, all of it!" Because she too has big news. "An'... aftah tha lil pahtey the othah night? Powah Girl brought me home cus I was real drunk.. an' she was sittin' in tha bathroom wit me while I was soakin' off tha alcohol in all muh clothes an' what not.."

She grabs hold of Terry's arms, damn near lifting him off the ground in a spin, "Then I was like, supah enlightin't talk about how wondaful she is.. an /then/ I said, kiss me... an' //////THEN////// she did!"

"I did not lick hu' tonsils... but I did motahboat hu' last night, so I'm callin' tha' /at least/ second base."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Terry's eyes go wide. This is, admittedly, a LOT to process. Two hundred and fifty K. Karen Starr's assistant. The fricking Scarecrow. Two hundred and fifty K. And then.

"Holy crap you and Power Girl kissed?"

Terry grabs Harley by the wrists (gently) and lets out a sound that might cause a few of the neighbors to check their tea kettles to see if they are boiling. "Hooooly crap that's ... that's awesome! I interviewed her a couple of days," the interview was set to go live in just a few days, in fact, "Damn, Harl! You're like the Jeffersons 'cause you're movin' on up. Personal assistant to Karen Starr... Of Starrware industries? Hoooly shit..."

He needs to sit down for a second. He's still clutching the bag. "Wow. Did someone hit the 'crazy' switch on reality while we weren't looking, or has life always been this insane and I've been too distracted to notice?" He raises an eyebrow and smirks. "Well... wow. Gar and I... it wasn't, you know... a full blown Frenchie. We were sitting on his bed, talking about... you know, I was comforting him. This is after- Oh, I gotta tell you, there's someone at the tower, Raven, one of Gar's team-mates..." his voice drops a little.

"Deep trauma. Very deep trauma, and it looks like she's been alone since the Titans split up. She's a sorceress... insanely powerful. And... she's in a super dark place, Harl. We tried to talk to her, but I swear if Gar hadn't hugged her, I think she might have eaten our souls." He takes a deep breath. "... she needs help. After that encounter, Gar was shaken up, so I was with him in his room and I was trying to comfort him, and then I just..."

He shrugs, "He just looked so vulnerable, and he had just done an incredibly stupid but also incredibly brave thing, putting his life at risk trying to bring Raven out of the dark... I just couldn't help it. I had to kiss him."

He looks up to her. "And that's not even the oddest thing that's happened to me. In fact... the oddest is the reason I came to you for advice."

Harley Quinn has posed:
If Harley were anynore on the edge of her seat with the progression of Terry's story, she'd be standin' up... wait a second.. She looks around herself, grabs a chair, and then plops down in it after her friends big gay cat call of excitement!

Gripping his wrists, swinging them side to side as he goes into the exacting details of what led to mouth to mouth wit Gar, she's like an idiot kid who's still in love with the idea of Bella Swann somehow seducin' a couple hundred year old corpse into puttin' an undead baby in her guts with his sparkle peener.

"Ya shoul't tell'em ta send his frien' ta me! I staht't mah own bitniz doin' therapy... I mean I gotta do it all hush hush an' my office is jus' right ovah theah on April's couch, BUT STILL!" Then he gets to the part, the exchange of mouth vows, and she dramatically melts down out of her seat as if her bones just desolved into puddy.

BLUDUNK

Right onto the carpet in a fit of squeeeeeeeeeeeeee girliness that suits her in how absolutely out of character it is. She's just as suddenly back on her feet, arms around the redheads neck, "Oh gawd, I know'd he was inta ya the second I seen'em..." Big grins, twirling around the living room in a waltz, mostly led by Harley.

"I don't know if'n I can handle any moah emotional stuff, Terry... I'm at emotional ovahload ovah heah.. Like if ya tell me y'all got a puppy togethah to test run havin' a kid, I'mma jus' be a big puddle on the flooah... so.. jus' don't say tha, an' if it is tha, ya save tha' shit foah latah, cus.."

Twirl!

"okay, screw't, wha' is it?"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Terry laughs despite himself, and quips "Nono Harl, we don't need a puppy. GAR is the puppy!" Because, really, he has been a puppy at least three times just to bring a pun home like nobody else.

"But no, the odd thing is a completely different thing, so... a little change in tone perhaps. See, it's this."

He holds up his gloved hands. Is he showing off new bike gloves? No, because these look kinda beat-up from long months of biking. They're not even that fancy.

No, what he is showing off is what happens when he unfastens the velcro strip and then pulls his right glove off.

Terry twirls his hand slowly, one way and then another.

His hand is covered in fur. Salmon-colored fur. Four of his fingers, minus the thumb, are a scarlet red. When he flexes his hands, claws, /cat/ claws, come out.

"Harl. Something really, really strange is happening to me," he says rather quietly.

Harley Quinn has posed:
Harley tries to put her smile in check because this is time for seriousness, she can see it instantly! Which probably doesn't make him the best person for the situation, but for good or ill, here they both are. She gently, but deliberately, sits Terry down in the chair she'd vacated and pulls one over for herself. Plopping down and drawing one leg up over the other with her palms crossed on her bare knee with a little tattooed of a jester.

"Those ah not new." She points out helpfully, lifting a finger to actually point at the gloves with one extended finger... but once the glove comes off, she just.. looks at the salmon colored fur covering Terry's hand up to his knuckles where the red begins.. and then the claws extending from each digit.

"I have questions." Said so very cash. Sun comes up? Sun goes down.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Me too," Terry admits, moving his hand again and staring at it.

"About a year and a half ago, Harl, I started looking for my biological father. That's 'cause I never knew jack shit about him, mom won't tell me anything. I was sort of ok with some of that, growing up. But a year and a half ago... weird stuff started happening to me."

He exhales and sets his hands on his knees. "Things started /turning/ on me. Sometimes when I got stressed, my eyes would be all weird. Pupil slitted. Sometimes, I'd have claws. At one point I could swear I was sprouting a tail."

He spreads his hands, "They usually only lasted no more than a minute or so at /most/. But... My mom's perfectly ordinary as far as being non-meta goes. You see where I'm going with this."

Harley Quinn has posed:
"Dad bathed in toxic waste'er somethin', yeah." Harley is nodding throughout, but offering only the most casual of observations. Several things are obvious however, like the fact that she was never at all surprised. No look of shock, or aghast, just... acceptance. It's possibly she'd think she were just seeing things if Terry weren't seeing it to, but that's still not out of the realm of possibility. This could all be some lucid hallucination.

Those happen to her from time to time.

Still. She brings her leg up and leans forward on them. Together because boxer shorts and that could get revealing, palms flat on her knees to lean in towards the fur covered paw, "How long ya had the sock puppet on ya hand? An' is this why ya was too sick ta come hang out wit me because-" Wiggling a point at the red tipped claws, "I can accept't that."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"I - yeah. This was the reason. The /real/ reason is that I was freaking out way too much. I even called in sick at the Planet." Terry looks at his hands, "It's been... two days now and they haven't gone away. Oh, Harl, I have no idea what I'm going to do. It's not just this, either... weird things sometimes happen. Like stuff will move by itself. And..." his voice drops to a conspiratorial tone, "I see things. Like... kind of hallucinations. They're over in a flash. But they still happen. I know it's not normal to find a giant caterpillar smoking in your bathtub. But there it was this morning, and then it wasn't."

His expression is one of fear, naked now without any attempts to keep up the pretense. "I'm not just losing my body here, but I think I might me losing my mind."

Harley Quinn has posed:
"Hmmm." Harley feels like she should say something, as if she's somehow got a magical set of words thats gonna make turning into a fur creature somehow more better in the grand scheme of things for her young friend. She rests forward on her palms, which are turned outward, still leaning forward onto the brace of her arms staring at the fur running along his wrist.

"Okay, Imma ask a couple questions now.. An' ya jus' blurt out tha ansuh's." Clearing her throat, "One, do ya want some flapjacks." Because in her honest opinion every situation is made better by syrupy covered carbs. "Two.. let's say this progresses.." Lifting a finger to point at the length where it's stopped at his wrist, "How ya gonna feel about tha'? Like is it somethin' ya can leave wit? Cus... Imma be honest heah, I don't see whole lot of half changin' goin' on wheah it pretains ta mutates oah watevah they'ah bein' called these days.. An' if ya not gonna be okay wit the possibility tha' this heah becomes semi-permanent oah a regulah interlude inta felt carpet skin..."

She blows out a pffffffffffffblbblblblblblb with air pushing forcefully through pursed lips. "Yer gonna have'tah invest in some serious, an' I mean heavy duty, Botched level, plastic surgery."

There's also the part about seeing things, "I do tha' too. Tha othah day I thought I imagine't some people comin' in heah an' gettin' they shit push't in when they broke inna our place... but Peej ashu'd me they was real. So... maybe wha ya seein' aint illusions, so much as lookin' across some barri'ah tha' ya didn't even know was theah in tha first place? Tha oah ya nuts."

She shrugs at that, grinning a little, "An' welcome to tha neighba'hood."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Oh man. I couldn't even afford that type of surgery." The redhead looks at his fur and frowns. "... I tried to track my dad down. Followed the lead to California. Then back to New York. Then Metropolis. I figured... if he looked anything like this, or more..." he raises his hands, "Chances are somebody saw him. And I figured, maybe the Planet has a report... something..." he shakes his head, "I was thinking I'd get copy room boy position. But I made full intern and my life got into a rollercoaster."

He leans back, and lets out a slow, quiet breath. "I don't know if I'm... okay with this. I mean, I'm not prejudiced against metas, you know that. But growing fur... god, if I grow this all over my body, I am going to suffocate during the summer..." he did not look forward to the notion of wearing clothes over a fur coat in the blistering heat and humidity.

"I'm scared," he admits, "And you and my friend Colette are the only ones who know this is happening. Mom doesn't know. I haven't told April- but I'm going to, I just need to prepare her..." He shudders, "I haven't told Gar yet. I... he's busy trying to rebuild the Titans. I don't want to derail him right now, he's just starting his road to recovery and the last thing he needs is him worrying over me more than he does already. I need you to keep this secret for me, at least until I've figured out what's going on... or how I'm going to deal with this."

After a few seconds, he smiles, "Flapjacks sound just about right, right now."

Harley Quinn has posed:
Harley stretches her brow out, then raises both of them in response to the notion of clothes over all that fur, "Theahs always nudist colonies." Helpful... Still, she takes a breath and puffs out her bottom lip in a thoughtful kind of huh face listening to the rest. Who knows, who he's keepin' it from, an' whys.

"I aint gonna tell ya how ta handle ya messed uppedness-" Saying that in the absolute sweetiest way possible, it's obvious the Clown Princess of April's Apartment adores Terry with all her crazy heart, "-But ya aught bring this heah up wit Gar too.. ya ain't gotta let it derail whatevah he's doin', but... an' heah me out on this..." hands up, palms towards Terry.

"Yer tryin' ta staht somethin' with this fella, aintcha? Theah's gonna be times wheah things aint always tha way ya want foah ta be... wheah ya gotta lean on one anothah a lil extra cus the deck aint feah. So.." Her shoulder jerks a little, glancing down.

"Powah Girl tol't me I had ta go back to Gotham.. tha if I want't to heal, really heal, I had ta talk to Batman.. which didn't make too much sense to me at tha time, but..." her mouth quirks to one side, "Sometimes tha things we don't think make no sense is exactly what makes tha most sense, especially if ouah lives aint real keen on in the sense makin' depahtment.. which, I ain't tryin' to alahm ya.. yers don't no moah."

Both hands reach out, gripping the fur covered palm of Terry's revealed hand to bring it down to hold between hers. "But this aint define'n ya neithah. Ya aint suddenly not Terry. Ya shu as shit aint suddenly less adorable.. an' Gar, if he's got any brains in his noodle, shu' aint gonna cast stones... so ya can eithah decide ta keep this from'em, an' /thats/ ya relationship.. or tell'em.. an' actually have one."

"But tha's jus' my opinion. I don't know what me'n Peej ah, but I'd nevah not tell'hu something like this. No mattah what was goin' on."

With that said, Harley claps her hands around Terry's and stands up, "So, Flapjacks.. Imma have peaches on mine cus I like ta pretend it's a face an' eat it from tha centah like I'm makin' out wit it... but you have yers howevah ya want, I aint judgin'."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Terry nods slowly, ruminating over what the harlequin had said. "Thanks, Harl. It's... a lot to think about. I am going to tell 'm, I just need the right time..."

He gets up, looking somewhat relieved at first, but looking concerned. "If you go back to Gotham to talk to Batman... maybe you should consider taking me along. Or Gar. Or both of us. And Colette. Just in case... you know." He had heard a lot of things about Batman. He hadn't asked Gar about him, even though he was in the Titans with the first Robin. "It's not that I'm saying I am paranoid about anyone jumping around in a bat suit, but I am saying that."

He slides up to Harley and raises an eyebrow, "Okay, the peaches are cute. Does April have a kiwi? We can pretend I'm eating Gar's face. You know. All over again." He grins.

Harley Quinn has posed:
Harley pulls Terry along towards the kitchen by his fuzzy hand, so if she's worried it's contagious she's doing a damn fine job of hiding it. "Oh, I already went." She says matter of factly, "Pull't the bandaid off. We had a nice chat in the rain, it was cathartic." Pulling down ingrediants to make instant pancakes, but the fruit is fresh!

"I think he was givin' me tha same speech he'd give one'ah his lil bat finky kids too... at least he aint punch't me none.. an' it was almost like a really stoic dad tellin' his daughtah to be all ya can be but don't take no boys shit.. only in Batman voice."

From the fridge, Harley produces a small bag of three kiwi, "I love kiwi." Because of course she does.

And a half sliced peach for herself, "Anyways, it all end't real nice like... I guess.. I unno. I got a long way ta go, but at one point he mention't the Jokah-" Not Puddin, Not Mistah J, "- an I didn't freak out, so I think tha's a good staht right?" She shrugs and grins over at Terry.

"It's funny.. like I know I aint' all right.. things is gonna happen an' I'mma fuck shit up cus I'm still all woo hooo an' shit.. but.. Right now I kinna feel like the suns comin' up aftah a long rain, ya know?"

Grinning, she looks down at the frying pan on which she'll make the pancakes. "Tha' oah I'll be back in Ahkam next week.. but tha's absolute /worst/ case scenario."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"A good start's how I'd call it, yeah," Terry concedes. He's doing his part by going and getting the orange juice, because of course he is. "And Harley, ain't none of us fully all right here. You're dealing with your thing, I'm turning into a fuzzy thing and my dad may have potentially been a gangster or not, Gar's trying to heal, Raven hasn't even started. Let's be honest- April's the sane one here and the rest of us are probably making her question her sense of reality on a daily basis."

He pours himself a healthy dose of the juice, and then one healthy serving for Harley, too. "But one thing you can be sure of is that April will be there if some shit gets fucked and will help you with the unfucking. And so will I," he says, raising the orange juice glass by way of a toast. Unbeknownst to him, he picked one of April's old collectible Hanna-Barbera glasses. The glass he raises has Snagglepuss facing Harley. "So here's to staying out of Arkham. They don't let you wear diamond-studded banana hammocks there."

A pause.

"DO they?"