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Whichever way that the wind blows.
That's where I'll go. Can't think about tomorrow...
2015-12-06 02:23 pm (UTC)
Duela stays snuggled where she is for just a moment longer before looking up again. One can almost imagine a door slamming hard somewhere in her head, locking the memories away again, as her smile reappears as if that whole section of conversation had never happened. "They're not really big grenades," she says. "Actually, grenades isn't even the right word because they don't have explosives or you'd get shrapnel everywhere, but something like 'gas dispersal unit' just sounds awkward. I think they look like those toy Pokeballs I saw in a gumball machine once, but without animals in the middle."
Harlequin just hopes that the sudden mood swings she's so familiar with in her family won't make anyone else uneasy.
Jokester is back to pacing, but ideas for how to keep a Joker away from an audience - or innocent bystanders, as the case may be - just aren't popping up. What was it Eddie would say about clowns... 'I live for the laughter, I live for the crowd, without them I am nothing, what am I?' If this were Gotham, if he had the contacts here to set up some kind of bait...
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