thearena | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who: Harley, Barbara and Wesker
What: The Death of Harley Quinn
Where: Tomorrowland
When: 3rd week
Warnings: Well...death.

"Look, all I'm saying is, this place isn't so bad compared to Gotham. At least around here more of the crazy people are in charge and running around free. It keeps it interesting!"

Harley had once again hooked up with Barbara. The two had been having a fun game of hide and seek and tag where Harley would dash off into dangerous areas and see if Barbara was going to follow. The blond had to confess she was impressed with how brave the commissioners daughter had been.

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"You know you're better than him," she pointed out, sitting upright next to Harley. "Right?"

"Eh." Was Harley's non-committal answer. She brought up a powerful leg flexing and stretching it casually. "Sometimes I know that. Sometimes...have you ever been in love Red?" She found herself slipping into an old verbal tick.

"I've never even dated," she admitted, leaning back a little. "I'm pretty sure it doesn't involve scars ,though..."

She switched legs now, muscles flexing under the tights that were ripped from her busy life in the arena.

"All love involves scars. Some just aren't as easy to see." Harley explained. "And they may not be pretty to look at. But each one is a story."

A soft smile.

"They make us who we are."

It's philosophical. Surprisingly so. It's even true, probably - and she is impressed. It doesn't' show on her face, though.

"He shouldn't hurt you. It's not right." She didn't know what love was, but she didn't want a love that felt like that.

Harley sighed, she had heard it all before so many times.

"You're young. Maybe someday you'll learn about how good pain can really be." She shot Bab's a lecherous grin trying to derail the conversation. "It can hurt so good. Better then being numb."

Even if Wesker hadn't been aware that his young districtmate and her companion were in the area, it would have been hard to ignore the way they were announcing themselves now. Their voices carried down the empty avenues, the crash of the metal can was like the cracking report of a gun.

Like the siren call of a dinner bell.

Wesker circled in, watching for several long minutes from the alley between two attractions. The way they cavorted and carried on, one might have thought the pair were on vacation, not competing in a fight to the death.

His mouth tipped, amused, perhaps it was time to enlighten them. His chin dropped, his eyes flashed, and he moved.

Appearing as if out of the very air, he went for Barbara first; his strike unbelievably fast, his grip inhumanly strong as he dragged her off the can and into his vise-like arms, his fingers digging into her jaw.

A quick twist - that's all it would take and then he could deal with the other....

There wasn't enough time to be surprised, before fear cut in. One minute relaxing with her friend, trying to ignore the mess going on around them - the next pulled back, Wesker's arms around her, those fingers pressing against her skin. She fought not to whimper, twisting back to try and ram her head against her attackers nose, her feet against his legs.

She wasn't defenseless - but she'd never been trained for this. She had always specialized in not getting caught to begin with.

"Back off creepo!"

Harley had barely any time to respond, so she'd regret not having something funnier to say right off the bat. Instead she drew back her powerful leg and with all the extra force her metahuman body could muster she delivered a punishing blow right between Wesker's legs.

Because some injuries never stop being funny.

For all his power, for all his ability, Wesker was not immune to injury - nor to pain.

Barbara's head snapped back, cracking against his mouth and teeth and he tasted copper as his lip split... but he knew it would be fleeting. He trusted in the virus, relied on the strength of his will to carry on, to keep his grip strong as the girl struggled and fought.

Some injuries, however, still managed to be staggering no matter how strong he was. How powerful the virus.

Harley's kick connected and Wesker saw white. Barbara tumbled from his arms and he dropped, managing to catch himself out of sure luck on one knee before he collapsed completely.

His vision pulsed white and black and red and he counted the pounding of his heart, struggling to remember to breath for several long seconds before finally the strength of the virus washed through him again. Before his head snapping back up, an inhuman growl rumbling from between his lips, his eyes glowing a feral red.

Barbara was already scrambling to put distance between them, backing up to Harley. Her mind was in overdrive - usually impulsive, she had shifted gears into planning, trying to ignore the too-loud voice of panic.

They were faced with something unknown. Metahuman? Stronger, faster - not immune to pain, but there was no way he should be getting up that quickly, was there? They had no weapons, no bat gear, and he was faster than she was. Stronger, too. She didn't remember him being like this back in the training center...

Fighting wasn't an option right then. Blind retreat wasn't, either, but she was willing to bet on their acrobatic skills getting her and Harley out of reach. If they could find someplace to climb...

"I think we should get out of here..."

Normally Harley would have followed up such a devastating blow with a shot to the head, but it was all happening so fast. And she felt her wound acting up again sending bolts of pain through her side.

"Go on, you get a head start! You spent all this time chasing after me, so now it's your turn." She called and flashed Babs a manic, horribly unstable smile before she spun back around in a graceful ballet turn and skipped away.

"Come on big boy~ Why waste your time with a little girl when you can have a real woman?" She teased and for lack of a weapon kicked her boot off at him.

Wesker appeared to shift, to merely lean to one side - but in nothing more than a blink of an eye he had moved, a pale blur, from his crouched position to standing several feet away. Harley's boot hit nothing but air.

His mouth twisted and white teeth flashed.

"As you wish."

His chin dropped and he moved again, streaking forward and preparing to strike. With all his super-human strength behind it, Wesker could easily bury his fist in an opponents chest....

Perhaps Harley would like to see what her own heart looked like.

"And leave you?" she asked, trying to put a little humor in her voice. Ignore the fear. Put the humor in.

That only works so long, though, when Whesker is moving in a blur like that. With him moving, suddenly in front of Barbara. Her searching for something, anything, to throw at him. She's not going to be on time, though. She can tell.

Harley's eyes went wide at the speed this freak possessed and only her own metahuman agility saved her life. But his fist caught her in the shoulder and there was a crunch that she was sure could have been heard throughout the park. If it wasn't the scream she let out really was.

She spin like a top on one foot when the punch connected and stumbled backwards clutching at her ruined shoulder. Under her fingers she could feel fragments of splintered bone stabbing out and was sure if she applied even slight pressure something would poke through.

It was worse then fire. Worse then needles. And as horrible as it was she hated to admit she felt a rush of life surge through her with every throbbing pulse of pain.

"T-that the best you got tough guy?" She laughed, and laughed. Throwing her head back she cackled wildly and charged Wesker with reckless abandon. The wild look in her eyes revealed the true insanity behind all her playful childishness.

Hopefully Barbara wouldn't spoil her one chance.

Wesker didn't move, holding his ground as Harley rushed at him - until suddenly, with all the grace of a dancer, he pivoted on his heel, twisting to the side and one arm sweeping out to catch at the charging woman.

For a moment they appeared to be doing just that, some strange tango, as they turned together, Wesker leading Harley by the hand that clamped onto her arm. He pulled at her, spinning her until, like Barbara before her, she was trapped in his embrace. One muscular arm wrapped across her throat, the back of his hand pressed against her cheek; the other draped over the top of her head, fingers digging into her hair.

A flash of grim determination crossed his face, tightening his mouth.

Just one hard jerk. One clean snap....

A rock. It was all Barbara had - a tiny piece of rubble. She tossed it toward the pair anyway, trying to get Whesker focused back on her. "I thought you were after me."

Maybe Harley was crazy; maybe death here wasn't permanent. None of that meant that Barbara was going to willingly let the woman sacrifice herself. She was supposed to be the hero, here.

She didn't dare move closer, though, when the man was holding Harley like that.

There was almost nothing she could do.

The pain in her arm was making her light headed which she was sure at this point probably helped ignore the actual pain part. What strength she had left in her arm had failed her as she clung to the arm around her neck.

The world was getting white and hazy in the corners of her vision, somewhere she could see the blurry dark figure of Barbara.

She could barely breath around the thick arm tucked under her chin so her last words were wheezed, but audible in the open echoed area.

"Run you idiot."

With her legs being the only thing that was free she clenched her teeth and threw all the remaining strength she had into one last shot, slamming the back of her heels into his knees. But the moment she felt the impact of her boots on bone there was a CRACK!

The sound filled her ears and suddenly all the tension left her muscles.

The hazy white cloud in her eyes spread like a fog settling over the park.

It wasn't so bad. Dieing. Not as funny as she'd expected.

But not as painful either.

It wasn't so bad.

It wasn't...

The breaking of bone still echoing in his ears, Wesker's arms opened and the blonde tumbled to the ground, lifeless, as the cannon boomed above them.

He didn't even look down as he stepped over the corpse and turned to Barbara.

...It was funny. Heroes supposedly faced down death every day. There had been a least a few times when she'd been in serious danger of dying herself. Yet Barbara couldn't remember actually seeing someone die before. Maybe a rare corpse or two. But always after the fact. Never like this.

Alive. Dying. Dead. Dead saving Barbara. Dropping to the ground like so much meat... she'd never felt fear like that, before, when he turned toward her. She didn't see a human there, or a villain at that moment. She saw a killing machine that had picked her as its next target. She saw herself mismatched and useless.

She didn't remember deciding to run. But she was already twisting away. She had to think, but it was hard to - with her heart pounding in her ears. She had to get up somewhere high...

Wesker followed, doggedly pursuing, trailing the bitter scent of her fear as it twisted and turned down the paths of Tomorrowland. He tracked her until the trail suddenly veered away, traveling impressively upward.

He could have continued after her... but after a moment's consideration, he decided against it, staring up in the direction she'd climbed, his expression unreadable.

Some other time.

For now, rest and a chance for the virus to complete its work.

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