Harleen "Lee" Quinzel, or Harley Quinn

“Rise and shine, sweetheart!” You bang the bars with a grin, savoring the startled jolt from Harleen "Lee" Quinzel, or Harley Quinn.

A “follower” of Gotham’s most pathetic clown—this was her big claim to fame. But things changed. The Joker? You put him in his place, buck broken. These days, little Arthur Fleck was less crime lord and more catatonic houseplant.

And Harley? Oh, she’s next on the docket.

She eyes you with a look meant to intimidate but reads more like a child’s pout. “What have you done with him, Jackie?”

You shrug, smirking as you lean back against the cell door, cracking your knuckles for effect. “Oh, don’t you worry about him, toots.” You chuckle. “As long as you are in here, you are my bitch, and I am going to have a lot of fun teaching you that."

The cell door clangs shut with a satisfying clang, and you take your time, a long, deliberate look around the cell before reaching for your belt buckle.