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.

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"So don't swallow?" Harley offered with a pout.

"You gotta love yourself for who you are. For what you are. Even if that isn't a very nice thing." She argued. "Because if you don't love yourself, how can you expect anyone else to love you? You do deserve love you know!"

"Maybe I don't get to have love..." Every man who loves her, or expresses interest in her, dies. Usually the same day. Maybe she just isn't meant for love. Maybe she can't put her past behind her at all.

Harley's pout deepened and she closed the distance between them to flick Ruby on the nose with her finger.

"Don't be a dummy. Everyone gets love so long as they give it. The trick is to not lose heart. Because if you do then whattya gonna love with?"

"Every guy i make eye contact with dies, Harley..." Her expression twists, faintly. This is the sort of conversation best had with alcohol. But even making eye contact with a cute boy seems to be a death sentence.

Harley groaned and rubbed her hand over her face, clearly frustrated with this.

"You ever heard of a self fulfilling prophecy? That's all crap. If you want a guy then go after him. Just find one stronger, smarter and better. Trust me there's someone out there wild enough to not only stand next to you, but touch you and not suddenly get...I dunno impaled or whatever. Maybe it'll be a girl. But someone."

"A girl?" She looks surprised - and amused. Lifting an eyebrow to Harley as if asking whether the clown has anyone in mind...

"Everyone dies here," she added. "Including the romantics."

Edited 2013-12-21 13:02 (UTC)

"Yeah but somethings are worth dieing for." She shot back sticking out her tongue in stubborn defiance of the cynical truth of their situation.

"So...w ho are you dying for?" A swift change of subject, fingers curling up a little as she thought about all the people who had died for her. Back to Harley. The girl seemed to like talking about herself well enough, after all.

"You have anyone special here?"

Harley sighed and rolled her head back puckering her lips.

"Plenty of special people. But not "The one" you know? He's back home...and so are my most special friends thankfully." But she snapped her head back up "Still I'd die for some of my pals here. I already have at least once." She winked playfully.