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It's Show Time In Gotham

October 9th, 2001

Participants: Nightwing, Morrigan and Harley Quinn

Scene: While on patrol in the heart of the city, a distrubance errupts in a nearby park. But Nightwing can't possibly anticipate the sort of disturbance that occurs... or be entirely ready for the individual behind it...

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Midtown [Southern Gotham]
Is one of the largest sections of the southern island, made up of an eclectic group of areas such as Theatre Row, the Diamond and Fashion Districts, Stroll Lane and Little Odessa. The Fashion District reaches as far north as the southern dock yards of Miller Harbor, even as it stretches southward to the now famous Grant Park. At the center of Midtown lies the Diamond district, seperating Old Gotham fom Robinson Park and is home to many skyscraper apartment buildings. The Little Odessa, which borders Chinatowm to the southwest, is the home to many European immigrants and is most noted by Volczek Square which is home to an annual celebration. The last remaining section of Midtown is Stroll Lane a one block area of parkland.
People and Things:
Morrigan
Harley Quinn
Roads: [SSW] - Chinatown [NW] - Upper West Side [SE] - Old City Hall District [S] - Old Gotham
Archways: [N] - Robinson Park
Other exits: [DD] Double Doors to Lounge Entry [GD] Glass Doors to Harborgate Towers [NE] Aparo Expressway to Upper East Side

Morrigan is standing near Stroll Lane. A breeze blowing through her hair, the sky is dotted with bluish gray clouds. The stars can be seen twinkling between them. A halo surrounds the moon as the stratus clouds float slowly by on the horizon. She is reading the Gotham Gazette, slowly flipping through the pages one by one. Her hair has been let down in a waterfall of reddish orange locks. Her eyes scanning the pages before her with intense interest. She seems to be biting her lower lip as she concentrates. She is wearing a somewhat tight black top and bright red bell-bottoms. A studded leather belt sits around her waist and tennis shoes upon her feet. She pauses when she finishes the article and closes the paper.

Sunset is a mere two hours past, but already Gotham is firmly in the night's grasp -- the twinkling streetlights and tall office buildings seeming to make the city glow beneath the stars that are only intermitently visible high above. Yet another cool evening, as has been the case recently. Autumn is well and truly upon the city and winter seems like it can't be far behind. And the city seems to be in for a cold season if the weather holds true. But that is a concern for future days.

Above the streets of Gotham, Nightwing makes his nightly rounds through the city, making use of the much rarely used highway of rooftops and apartment ledges high above the streets. Below cars zoom through one of hte busier parts of the city and numerous people still crowd the sidewalks. Watching from above, the masked figure roams over the city, gaze constantly darting downward for any sign of something out of place -- something not quite right.

Well, there is someone else in this area as well, but she's not out in the open yet. Somewehre in this immediate vacinity, humbly blumming to herself, Harley Quinn is almost ready for her 'opening night' in Gotham City....

Morrigan walks away a loittle from Little Stroll and over to one of the nearby benches. She sits down and opens up the newspaper again flipping through page after page...

Yep, just another ordinary night in the city. Somewhere close by a car alarm goes off, the annoying siren rising through the night air in a most obnoxious fashion. But equally mixed in are the sounds of cars driving by and the chatter of those who walk by on the sidewalks lining the streets. Reassuring sounds. The sounds of normalcy. Sounds absent from Gotham for too long. Stepping lightly along a ledge of a building, Nightwing lets his gaze sweep over the nearby street once more as he completes his circuit through the neighbourhood. Assured that there is nothing imminent calling out for his attention, the masked figure flicks his wrist and a wingding with a line attached slides into his hand. Drawing it back, he hurls it at a nearby building, the slightest sound echoing back as the razor sharp edge sinks into the concrete just before he dives off the ledge, swinging down rapidly towards an shadowed alley running between the two apartment buildings.

In the park, rather abruptly, a whole series of streetlights explode in shatters of glass that spray outward and rain down to the ground below. Very obviously by gunshots, for that matter, but the shadows don't remain for long. Only a moment later there's a rumbling drummroll and a squeechy voice declares (With the aid of a PA system) in a traditional circus-like way, "LADIES and Geeeeeeeeeeeeeeeentlemen! Boys and girls of alllllllll ages! Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere's Harley!" And then, there she is. A bunch of spotlights, some on the ground, some in the trees, illuminate the familar Clownette, who is striking a lovely 'here I am' sort of pose. Recorded applause is then played to 'welcome' her.

The girl looks up in startled amazement. Looking to the park next to her and eyeing the Clown weirdly. She runs to the park quickly but keeps her distance from the spotlighted villainess.

Yep, just another night. Or perhaps not. Halfway down the line when there is the abrupt sound of gunfire and shattering glass, Nightwing's gaze darts about momentarily until he localizes the sounds from the direction of the nearby park. Bright flashes go off nearby as streetlights shatter and then the scene abruptly disappears from view as the masked figure descends behind the building. Bad timing. Fortunately while Nightwing might not be able to see what's going on, the blaring PA certainly gives him a good impression of just what the disturbance might be. Coming to a sudden stop and landing on bended knees near the mouth of the alley, he quickly regains his balance and trots towards the street where a number of people already are rushing away from the park. Well, say what you will, but at least the citizens of Gotham are well trained by a seemingly endless parade of similar disturbances.

The lights, applause and PA system are all joined by recorded music (Have you ever tried to sneak an orcustra into the park at night unnoticed? Don't even go there, girlfriend.) that sounds like something you'd hear in a circus. Harley waves down the applause lovingly, and it stops with an abrupt screech as the needle is slid across the record. Harley glares at someone off-set adn then returns to her posing. "Welcome, one and all, to the first of a series of fun-fun-FUN filled nights in Gotham City!" she does a graceful cartwheel and a cute little hop. "As you all know," she continues wisely, "Everybody's faaaaaaaavorite holiday is just twenty two days away. Thats right! The countdown to All Hallow's Eve begins now! What fun have we in store for you? Weeeeeelll, you'll just have to wait and see!" she puffs up her chest. A pity, really, Harley is pretty, athletic and smart, she really could have been much more than she is.... "Gotham City, you have won front-row seats to--" she raises her voice, the music plays loudly and the applause joins in as she shouts, "The Harley Horror Picture Show!"

Morrigan cringes visibly but watches, darting behind a tree quickly when she realizes she's out in the open. She blinks as she peers out from behind the tall maple.

Oh, isn't this just what Gotham needed hrmmm? Bane and the Mad Hatter on the loose and the Joker a constant threat. And now this. Someone certainly has it in for the unfortunate city. Racing out of the alley and onto the larger throughway, Nightwing sticks close to the building as he fights against the crowds momentum -- most sensible citizens fleeing away from park as quickly as they're able. Fortunately the cool evening has kept most people inside and the sidewalks aren't that crowded. Racing up the street, the masked vigilante comes in sight of the park and is finally greeted first hand with Harley's elaborate display. From what other mind could such a bright, loud -- very loud -- display come from?

Now, only a couple minutes has passed, which is the way it should be. The only victims so far have been the streetlights. That's rare, usually the Joker's gang is so...deadly. Harley seems somehow dreadfully cheerful and harmless, for now. She excitedly continues her show in a singsong voice, "o/~ Sing a song of sixpence, a pocket full of rye~ o/~' and then in her normally cheerful voice, "Over the next twenty two days, we'll get to play a whole bunch of really fun games. If I win, we go onto the next game and one of my little blackbirds gets to go free! If I lose, well....We all know what happens to the blackbirds, right?"

Morrigan eeps as she begins to think of some of the things that Harley and Joker might do to those people...and not too quietly either./ She looks around alrmed to see if anyone is approaching, and then walks over to the nearby bench and crouches behind it.

Covering the last of the distance seperating him from the entrance to the park, Nightwing darts across the now quiet street -- asphalt passing beneath his feet soundlessly. With a quick glance around him to insure that there is no one in imminent danger -- though for all of Harley's noise and lights there has been very little show of violence -- Nightwing passes beneath the iron arch. "I'm dissapointed in you. Batman's not going to be pleased to see you back in town Harley," the masked figure says, his progress coming to an abrupt halt just on the other side of the gate. "You have a talent for spectacle. Have you ever considered moving to Los Angeles. Maybe try your hand at show business. I'd think that'd be more interesting then spending eleven months of the year in Arkham and the other month trying to terrify people."
Harley Quinn is pleased. Those dang Batfolk are getting good at being there right when the fun starts. "Nighty-Night!" Harley announces cheerfully, and then to her almost nonexistant audience, "Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome our guest, Mister Nighty-wing." The applause is replaced by a bunch of 'boo'ing and 'get off the stage'ing. It stops, the same screachy sound as the record is removed. "Mister Nighty-night will play the game, wont you, Mister Nighty-night? You wouldn't want to see the Blackbirds after they come out of the oven." she makes a face. "Blech. So, will you play, or am I wasting my time?"

Morrigan laughs, "I think either way, you're wasting your time...playing to no audience at all..." She ducks into some shadows before she can be seen and slowly melts into an incoporeal existance in the shadows...no one will be able to see her with the naked eye, only know that she is yelling from somewhere by a tall oak tree.

No, this doesn't sound good at all. Nope, nope. But as the disembodied voice suddenly sounds out through the mostly quiet park -- or at least devoid of other people -- Nightwing's attention is pulled away from Harley and her little production, a small frown slipping over his face for a moment as he considers what strange new game this might be. But the moment of distraction passes quickly and he turns his attention back to the gaudy figure ahead of him. "I don't really have a choice, now do I?" he queries rhetorically, taking a few steps closer to the young woman. "So what game are we playing this time Harley?" Yep, time to buy a little time to figure out just what's going on.

Harley Quinn is not gaudy! She is, however, still smiling, and beams with pride. "Shows what you know. I got -just- the audience I was lookin' for." She doesn't run away, nor does she so much as flinch as Nightwing takes a few steps closer. She grins widely, "You're playing in the Harley Horror Picture Show, and the rules are simple. You don't hurt me or take me in," she explains cheerfully, "Or the pie goes into th' oven a little early, you get the picture? If you try, then byebye birdy! But if you win my games, you can save the birds. Issat too complicated for you?"

Morrigan blinks and wanders slowly over to Nightwing's side, a little behind him. "Why do I get a bad feeling about this, Nightwing?" She sighs and watches now.

Well, the young woman might be clinically insane, but stupid and foolish she clearly isn't. Which seems to be the case with quite a few of those in Batman's rogue gallery. The conditions are all too clear and the alternatives all too few, so Nightwing's forward progress towards Harley ceases abruptly as he grows still. "No, I think I understand the rules," he agrees quietly, his voice calm as he fixes a level, if narrowed, stare on the young woman. At least until a familiar voice sounds behind him and he tosses a glance back over his shoulder towards Morrigan, eyes widening in understanding. With a slight nod of recognition towards her and her words, he quickly faces Harley once more. "Well, you have me where you wanted me. Let's get started. No need to keep your... 'birds' any longer then necessary." It's been such a pleasant few days back in the city. No wonder he doesn't visit more.

Harley Quinn smiles. She tosses the microphone, which lands with a thud and then screams as a feedback loop echoes throughout the park over and over again...til someone shoots the soundsstem and it dies. harley gracefully strides toward Nightwing. "It's not that easy, cutie. See, I'm just tellin' you the plot for now, an I give you a clue...an' you try to guess the right answer. Tomorrow, I'll be at the right answer with a Blackbird, an' if you guessed right and are there too at (random time), and you solve the problem---well, the blackbird's yours, and I give you the blackbird! But if you're wrong, then at (Random time), the birdie gets put into a nice, plump, juicy pastry!" she puts her hands on her hips. She likes this game. "Your first clue is 'When the pie was opened, the birds began to sing...wasn't hat a dainty dish to set before the king?'" and Harley looks damn proud of herself....and very happy.

Morrigan walks closer to Harley and Nighty., muttering what Harley said as if ingraining it into her brain. She looks to Nightwing to see if he has any clues and shrugs silently. She sighs.
Of course it's not that easy. It's never that easy. If it was that easy, he could retire his costume and live a normal life, but nooooooo.

Nightwing doesn't flinch as the feedback from the microphone reverberate through the park like a high-pitched wail, though his eyes tighten ever so slightly and even he's grateful when the signle shot puts the sound system out of it's misery. "'When the pie was opened, the birds began to sing... wasn't that a dainty dish to set before the king,'" he repeats dutifully, remaining unmoving even as Harley closes the distance between them. Oh so close. He could reach out and end this... but the possibility -- no, the near certainty that her friends would just follow through with their heinous threat is enough to keep his hands at his side. "I'll be seeing you tomorrow Harley. And when you're through playing games we'll have to see about getting you a little downtime. Say somewhere nice. With padded walls. Staging these little events must take a lot out of you," he says, motioning about park. With his level stare fixed upon her, all Nightwing can hope is that he figures out the little riddle in time... and that these 'blackbirds' are indeed people as he fears and not birds. It would be rather embarassing to let Harley Quinn stroll off because she was threatening a couple of birds with imminent baking.

A quick Gesture is given, and the spotlights, too, are blown, with a lot of hooting and hollaring with glee. The others can be heard rustling about, trashing equipment and probably getting ready to leave. "Don't be late, Nighty-night. And remember, the rules go for all your friends too--if Harley goes down, so do the blackbirds." she leans to stage-whisper, "You better make sure you keep me safe---Mistah Jay has a lotta enemies an' someone might tryta bring me t'harm, if you catch my drift."

Morrigan looks to Nightwing, "Any ideas?" She smirks, "I guess I'm as much in this as you are..." She sighs.,

Well, it would seem that Harley and her friends aren't real big reusing and recycling judging from the mess they quickly make of the sound system and bulky spotlights. If anything, at Harley's implied threat, Nightwing's expression grows increasingly grim. That most definately could cause a problem... and nursemaiding a rampaging lunatic just doesn't seem like the most productive way to pass the hours of the day. But then, he doesn't have a great deal of options at his disposal or he wouldn't even be here still. "I wonder why that is. You two are just so personable. Why I bet neither of you has killed anyone in days now," he says quietly though his words are touched by a harsh, sarcastic edge. "I'll make sure that my friends know about your little rules Harley. You just worry about bring me the first blackbird tomorrow," he replies coolly to the costumed woman before glancing back towards Morrigan and giving a small shake of his head. "We do as we're told. For now," he murmurs in reply. For now. And wait for a chance to end Harley's little games.

That's one thing he can count on Harley for. The blackbirds will be there, ready and waiting...IF he can resolve the puzzle, of course, an' if he can't...baked birdie! However, there is no look of glee in response to Nightwing's submittance. Instead, there's a strangely (Even for Harley) and almost serious look in Harley's eyes in response to -something- he said. Hard to tell exactly what though. She states coldly, turning away to go. "The Birds'll be there...Jes' remember, Nighty-twit, when this is all over, remember ever'thing and remember what I didn't do even though I coulda." and then she starts to walk off, the enthusiasm in her step somewhat less than it was when she started.

Morrigan wanders over to the bench nearby an d sighs, rolling up the newspaper and tossing it into the trash can. She then turns to Harley and Nighty and watches...she shakes her head...

Well nyah. At least she's not in a celebratory mood so something must have gone right. Just what it is happens to be a little unclear, but that too can be something to be dealt with later. Instead Nightwing remains rooted in place, watching her turn to leave with an unreadable expression on his face. For a moment he considers following her, but the risks -- at least until he knows more about these games of Harley's -- are just too great and instead he slowly backs away. Glancing back over his shoulder, he looks towards Morrigan sitting on the bench and slowly makes his way over, gaze still flickering after Harley and her friends. "I trust," he begins quietly, "that I can count on you not to do anything rash? I know you've demonstrated that you can take care of yourself, but this is very serious..." he continues, though any reasonable person could have already gathered that fact.

Harley Quinn and her pals scatter, quickly vanishing into the night, and wouldn't you know it--no one was killed. The only damage done was to their own equipment and the streetlights, no blood was spilled, and in the end, it's Harley herself who walks home with a heavy heart. Within seconds, there's no sign of Harley and her guys, just the quiet, dark park.

Morrigan says, "Don't think for one moment I don't know that, Nightwing." She looks you in th eeye, "But at the same time I want to help." She writes something down on a piece of paper, "This is my address. Feel free to drop in anytime...Az usually does.""

With a last glance tossed over his shoulder towards the departed Harley Quinn and her gang of miscreants, Nightwing turns back towards Morrigan and nods his head. "I figured, but I just had to be sure," he replies quietly, reaching out to take the slip of paper from her and depositing it within one of the compartments in his gauntlet. Hesitating for a moment, he withdraws a small disk from a different compartment -- barely the size of a thumbnail before holding it out to her. "Take this if you want. Just in case you see something. It's a tracking device. If you press down on the center of it, I'll be able to find you," he finally offers.

Morrigan takes it, and nods, "Thanks..." She puts it in her pant pocket, not knowing really where else to keep it at the moment. "Please...if you need any help...call on me." She does her little half-smirk, "I've had some lessons to learn the hard way but I'll do my best to figure things out and let you know if I do..."

"I'll keep that in mind," Nightwing agrees with the slightest of smiles -- one that quickly fades away, leaving his features smoothly impassive, perhaps even a touch grim, once more. "Thank you for your offer. Who knows when it might come in handy," he replies with a small nod. Who knows indeed, especially in a city with so many potential problems running about freely.

Morrigan half-smirks though, "Although I wouldn't let Azrael catch on if I do help you...He might tan my hide..."

Having encountered Azrael just this morning and seeing first hand how protective the armored man can be, Nightwing merely nods in response, raking gauntleted fingers back through hair ruffld lightly by the evening's breeze. "A little protective, is he?" he replies with the faintest hint of amusement.

Morrigan nods, "He's saved me countless of times. He's proven to be a true friend to me unlikjke some others. I don't want to lose that friendship."

Nodding his understanding, Nightwing allows his hand to drop back to his side -- glancing over towards the lingering wreckage left by Harley Quinn and her friends. Shattered metal and glass is all that remains of the spotlights, speakers and streetlamps and he shakes his head slowly. It could have been worse. A lot worse. "I can understand that. I'll do my best to see that you're not involved... or at least that you're not endangered if you get dragged into this mess despite our efforts," he replies quietly, offering what reassurance he can.

Morrigan says, "Believe me, that will be quite the task..." She smirks, "I have quite a telent for finding trouble...or else it's the otther way around...""

"So you've mentioned," Nightwing agrees, directing a small smile in her direction briefly before his eyes once again return to sweeping the nearby grounds of the park and the quiet streets -- the odd silence lingering in the normally busy neighbourhood despite Harley's departure. "Hopefully your luck on the score will change. And if the trouble finds you... well, at least Azrael can't hold you responsible," he says, a faint note of humour in his words.

Morrigan says, "I'd pity who ever he did find responsible then....He can be quyite persuasuve." She shudders, "I know first hand."

"I have no doubt. It's a rather necessary skill in this line of work. Though there are always those who refuse to be persuaded by more reasonable methods," Nightwing replies quietly, eyes still making a slow circuit of the area. Quiet or not, it's an ingrained habit by now... one that has come in handy more times then he cares to remember.

Morrigan nods, "Well I'd assume so after experiencing Batman's persuasiveness as well. Only met him once though so I haven't really gotten to know him."

Nightwing nods his head in agreement as his gaze fianlly comes back to rest on her gravely. "Few people do," Nightwing replies quietly before he dips his head towards her. "If you hear anything more, please let me know. And if I get the chance, I'll try to check in on you and make sure you're not getting into too much trouble," he says, the brief smile flashed once more. "I had best get back to my patrol. Harley Quinn isn't the only problem plaguing this city right now."

Morrigan says, "Should I just use the tracking device if I need to get a hold of you? Or should I save it for emergencies?"

"You can use it. If it's necessary I can always give you another one," Nightwing answers in return, glancing momentarily towards the pocket in which she placed the tiny electronic device. "Take care of yourself Morrigan. I'm certain we'll see one another again, though hopefully under less stressful circumstances," he says, dipping his head in her direction before turning on his heel, trotting off towards the city streets -- and the rest of his nightly patrol.

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