Fun on Ice with a Clown

[Deleted]

He walked pass Allen and Bobby to the alley side metal door. He adjusted his light purple glove before knocking three abrupt times. The Iceberg lounge was not only a rich classic restaurant for the wealthy in Gotham and a hip beat night club, but it also was a secret place where not only The Penguin could push his black market deals but where criminals could come to enjoy themselves…for a price of course.

The small sliding widow opened to reveal two big eyes. The Riddler only smirked, “Riddle me this, what has four legs but can not run or walk?” The window shut immediately. There usually was a password that had to be uttered to get in to the secret section of the Iceberg, but the Riddler was infamous. He heard the unlocking of chains and locks and then the door finally being swung open. The big man wore a tux that seemed to be the dress code of all employees. His expression seemed bored but threatening…especially with the automatic wrapped around his shoulder.

Edward frowned for a moment at the lack of response. “You never answer my riddle, even my simplest. It’s veal,” he stated with a sigh of disappointment as he limped passed the guard. The hallway was dark except for a small light coming from a coatroom.

“Sir, would you like me to take your jacket,” the young lady asked.

It was winter but spring was just around the corner. Edward, however, rarely wore a coat. He could never really focus on the cold when the pain in his leg distracted him so much. His men on the other hand…

“No,” he stated. Their jackets covered the multiple guns they had on them. You never come to the Iceberg lounge without some level of protection. The Penguin had almost banned weapons inside at a time, but when one person snuck one in and killed one of the Saudi Arabian Prince he determined everyone had a right to protect themselves and therefore he would not be responsible.

Edward walked through the hallway until reaching a double elegant wooden door. He pushed it opened.

The criminal part that was located underneath the fancy restaurant was separated into two parts. Three quaters of the section was a hyperactive secret dance club where drug dealers would pass around X and coke to all the willing kids. The other quarter was a quiet area for big timers like himself to meet. The Penguin loved to make money, and he made sure there wasn’t a market untapped.

Edward, of course, hated dancing. He thought it ridiculous and a waste of time. Even when he could use both of his legs, he never found the point for the strange action. Therefore, Edward chose to use the high payers only entrance. He could skip the noise and the lines of the club entrance and the photography of the restaurant entrance. Therefore, when he opened the double door he was welcomed to a calm elegant music in the background with dim ambiance lighting. There was a bar in the middle of the room made completely out of ice where a young woman wearing a skanky tux unitard filled up drinks. A few loners only in need of a drink sat at the bar. Against the walls there were large booths decorated with dark blue curtains for customers in need of more privacy. The dark oak wooden floor was speckled with many other tables that were mostly empty except for the body guards that were shooed away from the discussion.

“Mr. Nigma, what a pleasure to see you again!” a girl with long black hair greeted. The most noticeable thing was her legs, and Edward could never stop himself from glancing at the bareness of it before looking back at her face.

“You as well, Kindle,” he noted with a nod as he pulled out one of his tootsie pops from his pocket.

“You’re booth is available, and as per quested you are a great distance away from the club,” she said with a big smile.

Good. He hated having a booth next to the doors to the club. Every time the door was open your thoughts were interrupted by grotesque music. “Perfect, could you make sure I get my usual as well,” he said talking about his green apple martini.

The woman nodded again and waved him and his men along. Her eyes locked with Bobby for only a moment before they continued. Edward knew the two had been causally flirting. It was the very reason Bobby never stuttered when talking about the Lounge. When they passed the table nearest his booth, Edward flicked a hand towards it. Bobby and Allen immediately sat down shifting their weapons in their jackets to an easier to access position.

“Here you go, Mr. Nigma,” the girl said showing the table, “I’ll be back with your drink.”

Edward leaned his cane against the side of the booth before using his hands to slip in. The cushions were as amazing as always…almost like floating on a cloud. He loved these seats, but he still hope he wouldn’t have to wait long. He needed to talk to the Joker.

Yes, even the mention of the sociopathic clown caused his features to scowl, but he had to admit the clown had his own touch of brilliance. He needed that brilliance. His next plan was so large it would take down all of Gotham, but he needed…help…in a way. It wasn’t that he needed it…it was more like the area of expertise didn’t suit him. It would be preferably if the clown handled that part while he focused on the more difficult situations.

“Here’s your drink, sir,” she said sweetly, “Anything else?”

“No thank you,” he said nodding her away. He glanced down at his glass. He really hoped he wouldn’t be waiting long, but dealing the clown meant you had to deal with him on his schedule. As he stared at the glass, his thoughts drifted to Nina. It had been happening recurringly these last few days. He found himself…missing…

He tried to push it away. Why did he miss her? A solved riddle was worthless and so what if she left with a cryptic message and a depressed look. It didn't matter. No, he was merely curious to know if the Batman had contacted her yet. Yes, that was all. He pulled out his lollipop and shot back the drink.

The Joker better get here soon.

[harlequin]

"Whaddya mean I'm not on the list?" A high-pitched squeal of protest can be heard as the bouncer at the door holds a costumed female back from entering the club proper, the red-and-black harlequin flailing wildly against the mass of rock-hard muscle that makes up the bulk of his right arm.

"Of course I'm allowed in here, ya big oaf! Don'tcha know who I am? I'm Harley Quinn! The clown princess of crime! The Joker's right-hand henchwench!" she rattles off, as though she considered herself just as notorious as the rest of Gotham's rogue gallery. "Don't make me call Mistah J over here...!" she threatens with a warning waggle of her finger, attempting to use her boss' name as extra clout in her favor. After all, no one wants to be on the Joker's bad side.

It's perhaps this final warning that convinces the massive bouncer to let Harley Quinn through...or it could just be the fact that he doesn't particularly want to deal with the nerve-grating, eardrum-piercing clown-girl any more than he absolutely has to. With a little 'huff!' of annoyance, Harley smooths out the creases in her spandex outfit that had developed during the struggle before stomping off self-importantly into the middle of the lounge. She looks around for the man the Joker had sent her to meet on his behalf, and finally spots him sitting in a secluded booth near the back of the club.

"Hiya, Eddie!" Harley chirps cheerily as she skips up to the green-coated man seated at his table, unceremoniously dropping herself into the booth across from him without bothering to wait for an invitation or even ask permission first. "What's shakin'?" She says nothing about her unexpected presence, as though it's no surprise at all that she's here, and the Joker is not.

[Deleted]

Edward had been staring at his lollipop when his name was shouted from across the room. He cringed at the nickname. For some reason, 'Eddie' had become the rogues’ go to name for him, even though he insisted his hate for it. He turned just in time to see Harley Quinn slide into the seat across from him.

She wore a large confident grin that could only be beaten by the Joker’s sick disturbing one. She sat there with a happy shine in her blue eyes. She looked so much like a toddler on their first trip to Disney World. But he had to remind himself that her innocent façade was just that…a façade. She had probably killed and mutilated more innocent people then he had in his entire life.

While her presence was annoying, it was not entirely unexpected. The woman followed the Joker around like a sick lost puppy. At the thought of the Joker, his eyes automatically glanced to the room trying to find where the man was. Edward had stressed the importance of his plan over the pre paid phone. He needed to speak with him in person. There could be no mistakes if they didn't want to attract the Batman, but of course when dealing with the Joker his main goal was to attract the Batman.

When he didn’t see any man with clown makeup or green hair, his eyes traveled back to the strange woman seating in his booth. He silently prayed to the god he didn’t believe in that the clown would get here soon. He had so little patience for stupid remarks, and stupid remarks flowed from this woman’s mouth like the great Mississippi. He decided to ignore her comment and get straight to business.

“Where is the Joker, Harley?” he asked with a force smile, his hand gripping the stick of his lollipop a little too tightly.

[harlequin]

"Not here. Duh," Harley responds with an expression that would be more suitable on a teenager than a fully grown woman...but then again, her idea of casual makeup is clown paint, so what can you expect? "I thought you were supposed to be good at puzzles," she quips sardonically, before waving a gloved hand dismissively. "Eh, he's busy." Though whether that means her boss is actually feverishly planning out some grand scheme or he's just too busy to bother dealing with the Riddler himself is anybody's guess but his. "So, whatcha need us for?" 'Us', as though Harley fully expects to be involved as well, whether or not the Riddler had accounted for her presence in whatever plans he had developed. She's become a pro at deluding herself in regards to the Joker's love for her, so it's not hard to imagine that she's done the same with her perception of self-importance.

The waitress from before approaches their table again now that she's noticed the Lounge's new guest, and asks the costumed woman if she'd like anything. "A coke float! With cherry coke, and cherry ice cream, and two cherries on top, thankyaverymuch!" Leave it to Harley to order something both incredibly strange and incredibly sugary. Suddenly noticing the lollipop in the Riddler's hand, she sits up alertly, then leans in across the table. "Hey! You got anymore of those?" she asks with a big, hopeful smile on her darkly-painted lips.

[Deleted]

Before he even responded to Harley’s ridiculous comments he grabbed the waitress’s arm and said with the still forced grin, “I’m going to need another drink.” The woman nodded sympathetically and went on her way.

He was going to kill the clown. Did he seriously not have enough decency to show up? He knew the Joker was insane, but at least when given the opportunity to embark on a job that would destroy Gotham he would…show up. He couldn’t be entirely furious at the clown though.

He had sent Harley.

While the Joker abused the poor girl to extremes, the woman was still the only person the Joker trusted. By sending Harley, it meant the Joker had some shred of respect for him and was interested in what he had to say. If he weren’t, he would have sent some pointless henchmen with a gun.

And maybe Harley was right, maybe something had come up, and the Joker was legitimately busy. Or…

The Joker knew little Harley Quinn would annoy the Riddler to the edge of sanity, and he was doing it for a good laugh. He wouldn’t put either pass the Joker, but it didn’t really look like he had a choice either way. He needed the Joker’s special touch, per say, and if he had to talk with Harley to get it….he unfortunately would.

He looked at her as she rudely leaned over the table to get his candy. He hated sharing. He especially hated sharing with a person who would never understand the depth of the candy. He shoved his free hand into his pocket and grabbed one of the many lollipops. He pulled it out bringing it up to her face. It happened to be red. “If you want it then you have to answer my riddle, what’s red and white, but black and blue all under?” he asked with an arrogant smirk.

[harlequin]

"Hmmm..." Harley's blue eyes squint underneath her mask as she obviously ponders the question, lifting a gloved finger to rest at the corner of her lips in thought. "I dunno... Santa Claus after a sledding accident?" she ventures a guess with a little shrug of her shoulders. Hey, you gotta at least give her brownie points for creativity.

"C'mon, gimme! I just want one..." she pleads desperately, leaning in over the table with her gloved hands clasped together. Though even if the Riddler declines to oblige her, it doesn't appear as though she'll be too deprived of sugar intake, as a moment later the waitress returns with their ordered drinks. Harley eagerly sips down a good third of her soda in less than five seconds, then grabs a spoon to start digging into the scoop of cherry ice cream on top as well.

"So anyway," she asks again around a mouthful of ice cream, twirling the silver spoon around in the air as she does so, "whatcha had in mind, Eddie?"

[Deleted]

He had to admit that was a clever answer, but of course not the one he was looking for. Before he could even managed to respond the waitress had appeared with their drinks, and Harley attacked hers like a sugar addict. Maybe she was a sugar addict, it would sure explain a lot of things.

“I was thinking a harlequin with dependency issues, but I suppose that answer will work as well,” he commented almost bored as he gently placed the lollipop on the table before pushing it to her side. He silently wondered how she was able to breath as she inhaled the sugar-induced heart attack in front of her. She didn’t even seem to notice the new candy. Her focus was entirely on the ice cream making that short distance from the cup to her black lips. He was almost surprised he understood the mumbling of words behind all the dairy product stuffed in her mouth.

Even the horrible nickname…

He looked down at his lollipop calming his irritable nerves before taking in a deep breath. He then turned to Harley with another smile. “Did you ever take an Economics class in college, Harley?” he asked rhetorically but finding it humorous he could ever use the words Harley and college in the same statement. He paused for only a moment longer before continuing. “My plan is simple, and it will send Gotham into an economic depression far worst then the mortgage crisis. I’m basically wondering if the Joker and you would like in.”

He knew a plan like this would interest the Joker. It involved using the failed structure of society against the very people who followed them, something the Joker took great pride in doing….but Harley might not appreciate it as much. He needed to frame it to interest her as well. “It also involves you going to the mall,” he added almost randomly with a confident smirk.

[harlequin]

"Yay!" Harley Quinn cheers as she wins a consolation prize. She snatches up the lollipop, though decides to at least finish her ice cream float first before enjoying it. "Dependency issues? Nah, I just really like sugar," she answers flippantly, clearly misunderstanding the Riddler's intended reference (or else blatantly choosing to ignore the obvious). Harley undoubtedly has an addictive personality, regardless of her drug of choice.

At the question about her college curriculum, the jester girl shakes her head, sending her red-and-black tassels swinging to and fro with the motion. "Nope! Didn't need it for a psych degree," Harley answers simply, before listening to the rest of Edward's proposition, with a frown slowly forming on her lips. "Depression? What's funny about that? Where's the pizazz? Where's the punchline?" she insistently questions the Riddler...until he plays the last card up his sleeve. She sits up noticeably at the mention of a potential shopping spree. Or a shoplifting spree, at the least.

"Hmmm..." she considers again, chewing on a cherry stem meanwhile. "All right...what's your angle?" Harley consents. She can at least hear him out, and then let the Joker's laughter (or lack thereof) decide for them both.

[Deleted]

…

The Riddler looked like he bit into a sour lemon. He forgot why he never sought out the Joker and his crew. Everything, and he meant everything, had to be some sort of joke. He suggested something that had never been accomplished by the rogue gallery and this bimbo dismissed it for not having ‘pazzaz.’ He reminded himself that it wasn’t what she thought that was important, only that she accomplished her role in it.

Her reaction to the mall was as expected. She visibly became happier before she started thinking it over. Her suspicion was also predictable. “Angle? Dear, there is no angle. I’m just attempting to prove how the population is a brainless heard of sheep. All I ask for you is to go to every mall…and shop. I want you caught on every camera you can find. Of course, don’t make it obvious by wearing your…unique outfit, but make sure that if GCPD were to look over the security tapes they would immediately know it is you,” he said with a causal wave of the hand, “Then I want to blow Gotham Central’s Mall up.”

He wasn’t sure how the last statement would reside with Harley, but it was nessecary for the plan to work. He needed the Joker to issue a warning to the public that one of the malls would be destroyed thirty minutes before the destruction. Edward didn’t care how he did it. He didn’t care how the mall was destroyed. He didn’t care if there were fireworks or a fun threats, but the mall had to be destroyed. While the GCPD were busy trying to figure out which mall was going to explode, which would be difficult if Harley had been to all, Edward and his men would be entering Visa, MasterCard, and American Express Gotham departments. He would then cut off credit to the entire city through a virus he had already created. He just needed to get into their headquarters to implement it. All of this was only the second step of course. This step focused primarily on the working class. Once a mall was destroyed with hundreds of innocence lives lost, Gotham citizens would be to afraid to shop…and if for some reason they’re not, they won’t be able too use their cards. In these days no one had cash on hand. They wouldn’t even be able to buy the basic necessities like food. Consumption would be halted forcing the working class and poor into a riot.

He hadn’t forgotten the wealthy, that was the first step. The wealthy had to be handle differently. They had to be handled through the stock market. Not only would he destroy the stock market but he would also make millions of dollars in the process. He would falsely raise the investment of stocks by purchasing shares that didn’t even exist through hacking the system. The increasing in bought stock would raise prices and cause more and more people to buy. Once the price was at a high, he would sell it all. His fake shares would become real shares, and once he sold all of his shares, the stock market would start to fall. Then the working class would start to have problem causing the stocks to drop even further and further. The rich would be broke. No one would invest because everyone wouldn’t have faith in it getting better. The entire city would be in ruins and would never climb out of the economic recession that would be caused by a few computers codes he had created.

Why would all this happen? Because people were not smart enough to realize that trading can still occur without a currency. Because people never considered the possibility of a financial melt down. Because investors were too greedy to look to the future of a stock. Because he was a genius.

It was his ultimate riddle for Gotham.

Money, how important is it?

"If you help me, I can promise you and the Joker half of the millions I plan to make in a day," he stated with a grin that could rival the Cheshire Cat.

[joker]

The Joker strode through the Iceberg Lounge as though he'd been there all along. In truth, none of the staff could remember admitting him, or determine just how he'd managed to get inside, but all of them were wise enough to keep their curiosity to themselves when it came to Gotham's funnyman. Smiling broadly at the more pedestrian patrons as he passed through the area set aside for the city's less savory element, Joker spotted the Riddler's men at a table toward the back of the room.

Crossing the room, he breezed past the armed men, to the booth behind them, noting only briefly that the spot that should have been reserved for him was already occupied. Almost offhandedly, the purple clad madman leaned in and gave the seat's occupant a hard shove. Immediately plopping down onto the overstuffed cushion beside her, The Joker dusted himself off, straightening his lapels as though pushing Harley aside had been a great effort for him.

Completely unaware, or perhaps just unconcerned with the fact that Harley and the Riddler had been mid-conversation when he arrived, The Joker cleared his throat and turned his attention to the man seated across from him. "So, what's on your mind, Eduardo?"

[Deleted]

Edward was taken slightly aback when Harley went flying back into the booth and a man plopped himself down across from him where the girl used to be. He had just come to terms that the Joker would not be available and then he appears. He frowned for a quick moment. It could never be simple with the Joker. The name that left his mouth only caused his hand to tighten around his candy. The nicknames, did they ever stop!

Even though this was frustrating it was for the better. The Joker being here meant there would be no middleman. He forced a smile ignoring his men somewhat frighten looks towards him. The Riddler wasn’t afraid of the Joker. You just couldn’t be stupid when dealing with the sociopath, and the last thing Edward was, was stupid. “It’s nice to see you too. I see you still don’t own a watch,” he commented light heartedly, “As I was telling Harley here, I have a plan to send Gotham back into the dark ages.” He didn’t want to say this next part. It was slightly degrading, but he knew he had to if the Joker would even consider it. The man had an ego the size of the United States. “I need your help,” he winced for only a moment. It was partially true. He did need the Joker, but it all depended on your definition of need.

He stared at the man with clown make up covering his face trying to predict his next move, but it really could be anything. The best option was to be observant enough to catch it a second before and defend. He felt his gun in his waistband knowing he could reach it in a moment if the Joker started to play with his knives. Preparation, made you in control.

[harlequin]

"Go to every mall and shop in town? Sign me up!" Harley Quinn eagerly and immediately agrees to the proposition, even before the Riddler finishes his diatribe. The blonde is certainly one of Gotham's best professionals when it comes to shopping, after all, so he came to the right person for such a task. At the Riddler's last words, however, the clown's painted lips fade from a smile to a frown. "Blow it up? But...but..." But...then she can't go shopping there anymore!

"Hmm..." Harley muses thoughtfully around the spoon in her mouth. The Joker may still want in, given his propensity for chaos and destruction, so she won't turn the Riddler's idea down outright until she can hear his reaction. Then, as if summoned by her thoughts (though the Joker works on nobody's time but his own), a familiar purple-hued motion catches her periphery, and she turns to locate the source. Could it be..?!

"Puddin'..!" is all she manages to get out before she's unceremoniously shoved out of the green-haired clown's way, the jester girl falling over with a squeak of surprise. Fortunately, her coke float is unharmed by the action (though the same can't be said of her dignity), so the harlequin simply counts her blessings and meekly slides the glass closer to herself. "He wants to blow up the mall..." she explains in a voice that's got more than just a hint of a pouty protest to it. After that, she takes another long, drawn-out sip from the straw to keep herself quietly occupied while the other two discuss potential plans.