The False Harlequin

The False Harlequin #1: A new trick

There was something magical about the late night scene, it was like an intoxicating perfume that permeated everything you touched, saw and felt, all at the same time, as if it was an old lover that was always happy to see you, always ready to welcome you back on her arms, whenever you needed to forget the darkness of the streets, the stress of your daily life; whatever it was needed, there was that seductive mistress, with her alluring lights, the smoke of cigarettes clinging to her slick, sweaty skins, and of course, the fiery tones of her liqueur.

It was a sound, a smell, a touch that the person currently residing on this piece of reality called Earth had grown to love too; once before, she had only seen images, flashes of that brilliance before, but she had been pulled back from entering, she was simply swallowed alongside the eternal masses of corporate hell.

Nothing more than another blank face amongst the masses of minions and equally blank zombies that the now ruthless Americana wanted to sell as the grand dream, what a fool she had been in that gone era of her… well, maybe her life, at this point she wasn’t still sure if that had been living.

Now, here she was immersing on that land, every single day, not because she was a captive of the light, a of those fleeting moments of pleasure, but because she had found meaning on that existance; a dark and moving shadow amongst the many who never knew how close they were to the edge.

Well, to tell the whole truth, maybe there was something she was quite fond of in this world made out of music, lights and booze, and that was the company that she was able to find in this place.

The mahogany skin of her female company was as delicious as her aroma, as honeyed as her perfume and her words; every moan that escaped those deep red lips due to her actions were simply perfect, that alongside the light chuckle from the dark skinned woman was one of the things that made this world perfect.

“Now sweetie, I wish we could continue, but I need to go back on the scenario in five, you know how these things go,” separating from each other felt almost like an herculean task, but thankfully it was quick and painless, even if both felt a little bit robbed, of more time, of more love. Seeing the two of them together, they seemed like complete opposites, and yet, so equal. One dark as the night, the other pale as the moon.

“Maybe next time Darla.”

“That’s what you said last time, maybe I should just pull you into the changing room and not let you go for the whole night,” her pearly whites peeked a bit with her smile, making the pale woman chuckle, knowing full well she was capable of doing that.

“Tell you what, I’ll take you out this Friday, but, and I do mean but, I need to take down those guys.”

“Oh yes, the Tomassino boys, Claire, one of the girls that was working that night heard them saying that they were tired of Doctor Mendall, something about not getting enough, no idea what they were talking about, I have no desire to know,” Darla, the dark skinned woman said, using a hand to smooth out a non-existent wrinkle on her golden hued dress.

“Sometimes it is easier to deny what you don’t know, well, better get on the case,” the black and red garbed woman winked at her part time lover, ready to move out, before Darla pulled her back once more for one last kiss.

“I know you have quite the dark story babe, we all do in here, but still, take care out there,” and just like that, the two went their own way, one girl back to the microphone, the other jumping out of an open window and into the cold night of Gotham City.

The smell of the city surrounded her, a great many sounds bounced around, cars, people walking, music being played.

She grabbed the metal staircase and pulled herself up, getting quickly into the rooftop of the building, ready to keep on jumping, ready to keep on the investigation, when a shadow suddenly appeared in front of her, a big shadow of a man wearing a dark cowl, a person she knew well, or maybe the person that had been inhabiting the body she was currently in did.

“Batman,” she said, with something sounding like respect in her voice, while the man in front of her simply narrowed his eyes.

“Harleen,” the stoic voice behind the mask simply said.

Right, that had been her name, Harleen Quinzel, before the Joker had gotten his dirty hands on her mind and turned her into the demented sidekick of another demented psycho, that was before the accident, before she had woken up to a body that hadn’t been her own.