He who laughs last, laughs longest?

[revvinguptheharley]

Who:| Harley Quinn and Donatello Mc. Murderface
What:| No honor among homicidal whackjobs
Where:| Somewhere in Arena 2
When:| The end of week 3
Warnings:| Violence, death, probably some bad jokes.

By far one of the more interesting subplots of the second arena was the emotional destruction of Donatello and his subsequent team up with Harley Quinn. With him as her straight man Harley had been having a field day with her own "Unique" sense of humor.

But despite how effectiveness of their combined combat skills...Harley did make stealth a difficult matter when she got bored.

"Sixty six bottles of rootbeer on the wall, sixty six bottles of beeeeer. Take one down, pass it around, sixty five bottles of beer on the wall!" She cheered while plucking the needles out of a cactus blub she had harvested for water. She had been at this for some time now, counting down steadily from ninety nine.

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[revvinguptheharley]

Springing from the back of her beast she hit the ground rolling and bounced roughly a good ten feet.

It took a moment for her to recover before she dragged herself to her feet and scurried through the dirt. "Aha! Now we're cooking!" She declared apparently having found her next desperate trick to stave off oncoming doom. She shot a look over her shoulder to see where he was and braced herself for another ninja star.

[polyturtle]

That knife wasn't coming. At least, not yet. In fact, Don was going faster, having gotten some more adrenaline pumping. This time, he was speeding like Michelangelo, right towards her, scythe at the ready for some long-range slashing.

[revvinguptheharley]

Harley shrieked and then giggled as she dodged only barely, less each time till cuts and rips began to appear in her suit stained with blood. Sweat slicked her face and her eyes cried of desperation.

"Y-you're much better at this then that Lindsey guy. Maybe you should try him on for size." She joked weakly before feeling her foot land on something soft and familiar.

When you dug as many pitfalls as she had for the Joker, you learn to recognize them before you fall into them.

Riddler was here, and this trap would either be her last trick, or her undoing.

"Whatever happens, no hard feelings Donnie. You've made alot of progress this arena and I'm happy I got ta help!"

[polyturtle]

Don didn't respond. He simply swung at Harley. This was about to end. He was so ready for it to be ended.

[revvinguptheharley]

There was a wet sound like a knife stabbing into meat.

Harley's breath caught, she knew the deed was done. She didn't need to look down at the blade buried in her side. Already she couldn't feel her legs. Like a switch had just been flipped. She reasoned as the world seemed to slow down that the spine was probably severed.

She tried to take in a breath as suddenly the fatigue of the race seemed to be lifted and the world was so much brighter. Her eyes met his own and she saw the madness in them.

And hopefully he saw the madness in hers. There was fear yes...but utter chaos swirled around it.

Her hands were on the pole of the weapon, fingers locked around it like rigor had already set in. Her breath sounded labored and when she exhaled in came came out as a cough and a burst of blood in his face.

"Nice shot." She whimpered and threw her weight backwards trying to drag him forward into the pitfall with her by his weapon.

As the world began to fade into white she was smiling with blood soaked lips.

At least he was stuck with that stupid sign on his shell.

[polyturtle]

He slashed her twice, before suddenly, he found himself falling forward. Shell it all--

He felt the scorpions in the pit suddenly start to swarm over his hands. He did his best to throw them off of him, though he felt one sting him. He hissed angrily as felt skin welt up from the hit, as he finally somehow managed to stand, using the scythe to balance himself up, and limp away.

First, grab his anti-venom. Then, grab whatever knives that he'd thrown and not recovered - if they were recoverable.

And then? Then?

He was alone.

Alone and back to killing, just as he was meant to do.