thearena | (no subject)

Who| Harley and Open
What| Harley wandering around arena 2 looking for trouble and friends
Where| The Desert without Desserts.
When| The Beginning of week 3
Warnings/Notes| None yet, but Harley is open to wounding, maiming or killing so please request it if you're interested.

Harley was starting to get done with this arena.

Sure she wanted the crowds back home to love her but...she missed out on Candyland for this mess?

Trotting along in her ragged pink pony costume with it's bobbing bobble eyed head piece hanging off her shoulders like a hood she had left Donnie to his own devices for a spell. She liked his new aggressive and homicidal attitude, but he wasn't as much fun to talk to. And he didn't seem to appreciate her attempts to start sing-a-longs or play eye spy.

And so she was skipping, trotting or sometimes cartwheeling and casually dining on a can of pork and beans that she'd been saving since finding them at the cornucopia.

"If I don't find something fun to do they might replace me with reruns." She muttered to herself as she tipped the can back and let some beans and pork chunks falling into her mouth.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Huh? Oh don't worry Eddie." She spun around in the air taking a quick glance in all directions. "He went off to find another kill while I had some lunch. And besides he's so sneaky if he didn't want us to know where he was? We wouldn't see him till it was too late." She laughed cheerfully "Part of being a ninja you know?"

She doubled her pace to walk at his side.

"So have you been having fun? It stinks we couldn't stay in the candy Arena." She pouted.

"Oh goodie," he says, facing forward again, still walking, with a small smirk at his own concern. Worried, what? Nah, they're just talking about killer turtle ninjas in the desert, here. Nothing to worry about!

"On the contrary, from what I've seen on the provided idiot-boxes, the desert appears to stink much less than the other arena. A minimal landscape presents a more interesting problem. I am having fun. I am going to cook this rabbit. If you stick around, I could use an extra pair of hands for a bit. I have an idea."

"Ooo wabbit season!" Harley cheered and fell into step behind him swinging her arms carelessly as they walked.

"Yeah, it's too bad you weren't here for the theme park arena with obvious copyright infringement. You woulda had a field day there. Gears and wires and fake rocks and mutant ducks with teeth and fire reigning from the sky. There was a dragon too but I died before that happened."

"Yes, I could work with that. But let's not dwell on what we don't have." He looks wistful for a moment, gazing ahead, wishing very much for more familiar materials. But... he is honestly much too pleased to be alive and to have fresh meat to consider it long.

As they walk, he points ahead, indicating a small pebble stack. "This is as far out as I've set up little traps. We don't have far to walk, and up ahead... well, come on, I'm showing you..."

And he falls silent as he continues to walk. It really isn't very far, and as he nears his little base, the stone piles are more frequent, and his path begins to take on a much less direct route as he works his way around his hidden obstacles and traps and all that mess. He is quite happy to point them out as he goes. "There's only so much space I can cover. What I need is something getting people blundering this direction."

Harley skipped, hopped and twirled after Riddler, leaning down to examine his traps excitedly, making all the appropriate Ooo and ahh sounds.

"Oh sure! Some bait! Or a lure! Or a signal of some sort. Maybe you could start a fire and make people think you're some idiot broadcasting his location. Then when they try to sneak up on ya, WHAM BAM POW!" Death by super smart Riddler traps!"

It didn't hurt to butter him up whenever possible.