There was a time in every person's road to adulthood they needed to honestly answer one question and one question only. How many people were too many people? Now this could used in a variety of different scenarios. Like how comfortable they would be in a crowd or talking a certain number of people. At what point would an attempt at engaging not even come to mind. Or in how many friends could one reasonably keep up with...or maybe if some were a bit adventurous, how many lovers were too many?
With all her years of experience, Pamela Isley could pretty accurately state that the number was four. Less than a full hand's worth of people she was willing to be around at any given time, that she was able to keep in line under the constant deluge of information her babies made sure to pass her way. Anymore, everything would overwhelm her. From the way the pale apes oozed their pheromones, ranging from lust to anger to fear. It was somewhat management in smaller numbers, especially when they kept up a routine bathing schedule but even then they were pungent. Even more so in a place like this.
Her green eyes flickered down from their booth with a hint of disdain at the tide of humanity bumping and grinding against each other. The way they gyrated and ground themselves with a frantic, some drunken, need. The mix of sweat, body odor, alcohol, and perfume that only made things all the worse.
Combine that with the flashing blue and red lights, and the bumping music sending vibrations up her leg, it was safe to say she would rather be anywhere but there. She'd never been a people person even before the...incident. But afterwards, with all her enhanced senses it only further entrenched that inherit impatience when it came to mankind.
"C'mon Red!" The blonde women besides her essentially collapsed onto her in the attempt at a nudge. Those blue eyes sparkling with mischief. Wearing a tattered leather jacket and a pair of jeans that hung loosely on her lean frame. A bright pink baseball cap was all that kept those dyed locks from spilling out. In her hands, she held two. dark amber glasses. "Relaaax! You'll catch someone of fire with that glare! Giving me the shivers!"
Schooling her features from that intense gaze into a blank, uncaring mask the red head took one of the glasses and held it up to her lips. The message was received. She would admit, maybe she was carrying her displeasure at being here on her sleeve. Harley might like to act like a ditsy blonde but the women was anything but that….except when it came to 'that' thing.
Even now, flashes of bruised pale skin. A busted lip and a swollen right eye streaming with tears overlapped on the grinning blonde.
Pamela took a sip just to resist the urge to shatter the glass into a million little pieces, now wasn't the time. They'd already gone through that song and dance many times, it was frustrating beyond belief but it was still Harley's decision at the end of the day. Even killing 'that' thing wouldn't help. It had it's claws in too deep.
She could wait.
"Yeah," Another women, practically purred as she leaned across the table. Her action causing a sudden flood of lust to come crashing their way from a pair of club goers. It was easy to essentially taste their desire, their possessiveness and most of all, their resolve. "It's a girl's night out, no reason to burn the whole place down."
In the same 'u' shaped booth, sat a women simply oozing grace. She was slender, almost delicate in a way. Her short cropped black hair ended with bangs hooding green eyes positively gleaming with a near feline level of playfulness. She wore simple slender black dress end just above her knees with black stockings etched in a rather interesting pattern of swirls that ended in a pair of high heels that they all knew she wore to make herself the tallest one there.
Not a real problem for actual adults...but Harley being the way she is made it into a pissing match. In fact, she'd almost turned right back home to 'pick up me big girl boots'. Those absurd platform boots that she could barely walk in without looking positively ridiculous in.
Selina had always been like that, more than willing to poke someone's buttons for the hell of it in minor ways like cat playing with a mouse. And one would think the blonde would be immune to such good natured taunts...but here they were. Making it work the best they could with all their baggage.
Taking another sip of the brew, she couldn't help but sigh contentedly at the taste. It was a tad strong but had a bit of 'fluffy' after taste to it, the foam sticking tight to her lip. But other than that, there wasn't much to it all. There was no warm feeling burgeoning up from her chest nor did the world gain a slightly blurred visage.
There were a things she often missed during her human days, being able to get drunk was certainly high up on the list. And honestly, just looking at her two friends sporting slightly rosy cheeks and small, stupid grins on their faces, made her want to just snap that buzz away.
But again, they were friends and just because she couldn't enjoy something didn't she had the right to deprive those she cared for of that same experience.
"Tell us about your trip, Kitty!" Harley hiccuped, obviously more of an act given half the glass she still nursed between red and blue painted nails. Her voice slightly raised to shout over Gotham night life. "You got pictures? I know you got pictures! C'mon, share em!"
"I think you more want to know if I brought you some souvenirs," The lightly tanned women rolled her eyes, somehow with a degree of elegance that seemed more supernatural than someone with green skin. "Buuut, I'll play your gam-"
"Excuse me ladies." A man slurred as he slid uninvited into their booth, his equally as drunk companion following suit who had the audacity to look bashful. Both combined, they were nearly hemming the entire group in with barely any distance between them and the twin 'drunk' women. "We couldn't help notice you fine ass girls, were here alone with no man to protect you...Let's change that, my name is Randy and this my friend Albert, we-"
Whatever pick up line the two could possibly cook up was inevitably ruined.
"Wait!" The blonde held up a single painted nail, the appendage swaying gently in an unseen breeze that matched her own act. A large goofy grin plastered across her face and a twinkly those who knew her, knew she'd found herself some new prey. "How do you spell your name?"
"Uh…" The bashful man looked at his companion who only grinned stupidly, before answering the question. Falling nose first into the blonde's trap. "A-L-B-E-R-T?"
Now, Pamela could look at things from an objective perspective to say neither of the men looked bad or unattractive. Randy, being the most outgoing of the two, had a bit of a pudgy built. Nothing too extreme. With skin relatively cleared while combining that with his shock of red hair that paled in comparison to hers and his glazed over brown eyes. She could draw upon her old memories as a full blooded human and say that this was the type of guy she would've given the chance to..if she wasn't drowning in work.
While Albert...Albert-two, she decided to mentally call him, was a might bit taller than his companion, easily reaching well into the six foot range with a skinny build. With shaggy brown hair that hooded over his rather surprising pleasant blue eyes and a small smattering of freckles across his nose. He could be considered cute, traditionally.
"Nah!" Harley rebuked, shaking her head vigorously. Enough that it was of some concern if that cap would come flying off and force their flight. "You gotta change your name, buddy. I already know an Albert...do you got any other names you go by?"
"Yeah! Randy butted in, his gaze locked onto the rapidly blinking eyes of the short haired women next to him. It was like the man was possessed. Whether by some spirit plotting on his downfall or the appendage between his legs, if the waves of lust assulting her nose was anything to go by. "They call him BDB!"
"What does BDB mean?" Selina, playing the role of the drunken ditz perfectly, said in a slightly whiny voice. The type of tone that made people feel as though they were the only people in the room. Her slender finger dancing around the rim of her now completely empty wine glass, a lip stuck out in a slight pout. "I really want to know."
"Mee too! Mee too!"
Harley clapped excitedly, either not noticing or more likely ignoring the rather confused look on the drunk besides her. Even though she would fervently deny this, but even Pamela, a mostly ignored party, leaned a just a tad closer. There was no way she was going to miss whatever disaster was going to come out of his mouth.
"Well," The man leaned closer to her, arm hemming the willowy women in just a bit. A wide, stupid grin etched across his face. "Big. Dick. Bert."
If before Albert-two looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there, now with his friend's 'brilliant' name he now looked just about ready to flee from their booth with all the speed and heat steaming off his bright red face.
"Really?" Smelling blood in the water, the blonde's grin grew positively wicked and her pale hand snaked out to grab the fleeing man's bicep. "How do you know?"
"And what do they call you?"
The brunette, fully in her element, tacked on. Leaning in just fare enough to run her hand across his green button up shirt.
"I've heard plenty of women call him that." A lie, his stench told. A well meaning falsehood, but false nonetheless. "And we're roommates, so I can tell you our walls are pretty thin. They scream when they're with him. I shouldn't tell you this but as long as all can keep a secret...they call me Crimson Man."
"Dude!"
She could taste the shock and fear in the air, it's foulness only adding to the growing stench slowly making itself her entire world. From that, it was clear Albert-two was at-least concerned for his friend.
"Crimson Man," The grin that nearly split Selina's face was almost exactly like a Cheshire cat. All teeth and all mischief. A certain energy filled her eyes as she became nearly glued to the man. "You mean, like the vigilante that taught Batman? Like THAT Crimson Man?"
For first time since being dragged out of her home, a small smile tugged at Pamela's lips. And now, she could see why the pair liked messing with people so much. There was no way these drunkards could know who they were, nor that each of them had personally received the 'gender neutral fist of justice'. If this man actually ran into people who held a real grudge against Batman, then it was safe to say his exit from this world would be anything but quick.
"Yeah!" The fool enclosed his arm around the brunette's shoulder with a massive, shit eating grin across his face. His ego stroked to high heaven. Probably feeling like he was on top of the world in that moment. "That's me!"
"Do ya know who Bats-Batman is?" Maybe the blonde was more drunk than she let on but neither of these two seemed to have picked up on the minor slip up. "Like whose under the mask…? I kinda imagine someone warty!"
"I can't tell you, sadly." Randy shook his head with faux regret. A puppet tap dancing to a malicious beat. "It was one of the first things I taught him and I wouldn't, couldn't expose my disciple's privacy...He's not like me."
"No he is not."
Selina barely murmured, partly to herself. Just loud enough for someone with enhanced hearing to just barely make out over the chaotic club.
"If ya can't tell us who he is," Harley leaned closer, those locks almost escaping from underneath her cap. Her prisoner, locked under that gymnast grip suddenly looked a lot more aware than he had recently been. His slightly glazed over eyes finally sliding over to the last, silent observer to this play and if his squinting was anything to go by, it looked like he was trying to figure out if the plant-hybrid's skin was actually green or just painted that way. "Then ya gotta tell us some secrets, like is that chin real? It gotta be fake, right? Who does he think he is, Superman?"
"It is fake." The weak chinned man nodded with all the confidence in the world. "A prosthetic to further hide his identity. And to expose a bit more of my student, he even wears a muscle suit! It's all mechanical strength, pistons and servos!"
"Really?!"
The brunettes hand hadn't been idle, running themselves over his outer layer and falling down beneath the table. A subtle smirk was all they was needed know.
"Exactly! I tried telling him in the beginning that it was too much. A fake chin, that's fine but for someone to be that shredded they would need to be on an insane level of steroids."
"Is he on those as well?" If anything, the blonde looked just about ready to jump out of her seat from how giddy she was. "I heard they make ya weenie shrink!"
"He is on steroids. A lot of them." Shaking his head sadly, he looked like he'd stepped across the pearly gate and received his eternal reward or something. "I've tried warning him, but he won't listen….He already wasn't packing much to begin with but...now? It's safe to say he's apart of the MPC. Micro Penis Community."
"I knew it! Pay up!"
"Oh my. Poor thing." Selina giggled girlishly, really playing it up as she slapped the man's chest repeatedly. And from his tightening expression, those blows were not anything to scoff at. A cat toying with a mouse. "Surely, you jest? I thought you said he wore a muscle suit? If he's wearing one then why use the other?"
"...He uses both?" Randy stumbled over his words, stunned at his statements being poked full of holes. "He uses both! He doesn't really have the best genes so even with steroids, it doesn't look all too intimidating, so hence the muscle suit. Actuall-"
"Dude," Albert-two looked directly at Pamela with slowly widening eyes, recognition dawning across his features. His stench of fear flushed through him, nearly fully drowning out everything else. It looked like this bit of fun would soon be coming to a close. "We gotta go..now."
"No, why?" Maybe he was thinking with his second head or the alcohol was getting to him, but if anything he looked annoyed at his friend for cutting him off. A harsh glare reserved for when he thought they wouldn't notice. "Can't you see these ladies want to hear more? Why you gotta be such a downer?"
"Look." Not daring to actually point, probably in fear of losing the finger. He instead directed with his eyes directly at the red head that had kept quiet this entire time, her lone finger running lazily along the rim of her completely empty glass. It seemed things were really going to end here soon.
And almost reluctantly, Randy looked over for the first time. His brows clenched together as that mind spun with trying to figure out if her skin was real or not before it all came tumbling down. She could see it, the exact moment he took in her pale green skin. Took in her bright red hair that out-shown his own by a few degrees. It was like comparing a flickering flame to roaring fire. And finally, his expression froze in place. A wash of primordial fear deep within him exuded out of him, easily engulfing the other man's terror. Smelling of pungent sweat and running, cheap deodorant.
"Aw man!" Harley released the man seeing the gig was up, her lips pulling into a pout while crossing her arms. But her amusement was clear from that shit eating grin that followed soon after. "You're so gorgeous Red that they got all speechless when they saw ya!"
"Save some for the rest of us." Selina, disentangled herself from the man. A matching grin tugging at her lips. "Life sometimes just isn't fair."
Without saying anything, the pair locked eyes with each other and fled. The two looking like frightened critters fleeing from a bigger predator. Wobbling slightly on their feet, they quickly grew smaller in the distance. Past the many rows of booths, past the exclusive bar manned by a gently smiling old man and even pushing past the large guards that were suppose to stop them from being bothered as they were. All that muscle, and they were still so useless.
A moment of silence followed before the twin hellcats burst into a roar of laughter and even the usual stoic red head couldn't help but crack a smile as well. It was nice, in moments like these. When each of their baggage was nowhere in sight and they could just enjoy the moment, even if it was at the expense of others. In that moment, they weren't the known cat burglar Catwoman or the infamous sidekick Harley Quinn or the queen of plants herself Poison Ivy. They were just people, unrestrained by the path each of their lives took.
"You gotta show me how you do it, Red!" Harley whipped a single tear from the corner of her eye. "That voodoo stuff that makes em just ignore you? Do you know what I could do with that?"
"Yes, I know exactly what you would do with it." She knew the blonde well enough to know the question wasn't entirely in jest. Normally, she could avoid trouble by the might of her own arms. No one wanted to tussle with someone that could actually fight back but it did make basic chores like grocery shopping nearly impossible. And while she pretended as though it didn't bother her, her body told a completely different story. "But, I can see what I can do."
It wouldn't be too hard to replicate the pheromones subtly shifting people to just outright ignore her presence, an experiment stemming from their bi-weekly game nights. An enemy that was some sort of poison based rogue assassinating their political rivals. Sure, some tweaking would be required but then it wasn't completely out of the picture for it to be made into a perfume or spray.
"Tell me if anything comes out of it." Selina added in halfheartedly, a majority of her attention locked on the wallet between those much too nimble fingers. The object wasn't anything too gaudy, it's leather exterior had a rather cheap smell about it. It's skin processed one too many times or the company used some inexpensive skin and knock-off chemicals. With a shake, a multitude of items came clattering across the table but the few bills that did float down didn't even have chance to hit the table before they were snatched up. Those blue eyes closing into upside moons as she smiled that rather familiar grin. "It looks like our next drinks are on Crimson Man."
"What else is in there?" Harley looked about ready to try and snatch the pouch from their friend. A mistake one would make only a single time. For a thief, she sure hated having anything stolen from her. "Got any embarrassing pictures in there? I know he's gotta have some forgotten photo in that!"
"Credit card... driver's license… A bunch of business cards, mostly from reporters...I really can't believe he's getting all this action. If he gets himself killed, then oh well. I say we can get about four rounds with whatever's on this card."
Green eyes flickered over the small pile of cards, each of differing design and handwritten scribbles of phone number emblazoned on the back. She could even recognize some of the names written down. How in the hell this guy got an offer to be interviewed by Lois Lane herself, was anyone's guess. With that in mind, it wasn't a surprise to see Vicki Vale there as well. As for whether or not their names were just being used to get him to take sit down with their respective agencies, it would forever remain a mystery now.
Or maybe now.
But her gaze did stop on something interesting, a slender black card pertaining nothing but a series of circuit symbols that she'd only seen in her first year in college when the engineering major moaned and groaned yet another sleepless night.
"I'm taking this one." Pamela reached across the table and snatched it up, staring in thought at the simple ten-digit number emboldened across the back.
"No fair!" The blonde pouted, puffing her cheeks out like a petulant child getting turned away from an all you can eat candy buffet. Snaking her hand out quickly, aiming at a particular card in the pile "Then I'm taking this one!"
"That's mine." Selina grinned, a greatly exaggerated apologetic look on her face as she snatched the exact same card. A golden globe encircled by the name 'The Daily Planet' on a ribbon. "Sorry not, sorry. Who knows when I'll need an in over there."
"You better be glad you're so far away right now!...Are you guys really going to leave me with the lame option?" Almost reluctantly, she pulled out the only other card of note under the stack. The words 'The Gotham Gazette' written in bold letters. "I guess I can prank call em…"
"Cheer up Harley." The brunette smiled softly, her hand reaching beneath the table and plopping down that heavy looking purse of hers. It looked expensive, some named brand that neither of them were going to even try to pronounce. Pure white and simply oozing money, with golden clasps clicking open with a flick of the wrist. "I got you guys something from my trip. First, let me say the Bahamas were great. Great food, great weather and the beaches were to die for. And don't even get me started on the lobster…"
"We get it lady." Harley rolled her eyes. "You got a rich person vacation, I've been on vacation too! I went to Ohio once! They put chili on their spaghetti over there! And Red here has been to Yellow Stone!"
"For you, my gorgeous queen." Completely ignoring the blustering blonde, the cat burglar turned her complete attention to their silent third member. "I bring you two offerings, one for you to add to your ever growing collection and another just something I thought you would appreciate."
"Hey! Why do I gotta last? And she's getting two gifts?! Two?!"
Once again ignoring the disruption, two objects were extracted. One was a small pouch that practically screamed the amount of potential life present, while the other was a simple folded up t-shirt she was sure was at-least one size too small.
"This here," She shook the pouch gentle, sliding the t-shirt over first. "Are a few seeds I picked up. Some coconuts, some yellow elders and I think even a few manchineel seeds...at least that's what my guide told me they were. There's some more in there but I don't really know the names of them, just know most of them are native there..and maybe you can grow some here."
"You just want to her grow some coconuts for you."
"Are you really going to turn down some coconuts if they're offered to you? Fresh?"
Turning the pair out, she gently took the pouch and opened them up just the tiniest bit but even then, that was more than enough for her to be nearly overtaken by the flood of needs being pushed her way. The small bundles of potential were happy to be near here, the best way seeds could show. They called to her, begged her, needing her to take care of them. To plant them into the ground and be nourished under her hands. To grow to their fullest potential before passing their offspring along to enjoy the same care.
But any gratitude she might've shown on her face was quickly dashed away as she set the pouch down with love and unraveled the white t-shirt. Expression falling back into that oh-so comfortable blank mask.
"Oh. Thanks." Her words were dry as sand paper as the three-sizes too small shirt came fully into view. It's material looked thin, probably becoming see through at the slightest bit of moisture. And she estimated end it would at well above her belly button. "Just what a I wanted."
"Does that say…" It was so thin that the words embroidered across its front could be seen even from across the table. Which the blonde was all too eager to read aloud, as though everyone else was illiterate. "My eyes are up here, dumb-ass."
"I just thought of you when I saw this." Selina wiped at an imaginary tear at the corner of her eye, as though her gift had anything but bad intentions. "I'm sure you will find some use from it."
Instead of engaging with the two, Pamela instead rolled up the shirt and stuffed it back in the named brand bag. There was no way she was going to carry a joke gift around, this would be the price.
"And for you, my energetic, annoying, loudmouth friend." The women pushed past the gobbled up shirt and took out a small object wrapped completely in old brown wrapping paper. Even with how carefully she placed it on the table, the soft clinking of stone landing on wood was still loud enough for them to know how weighty the object was. "I bring you a special treat. I got this from my guide's home. He wasn't a born native but apparently, his late grandmother was from some small village in South America. And her grandmother passed it down from some expedition...I took one look at it and couldn't help myself..Behold!"
And with gentle but nimble fingers, she unwrapped the small object. Peeling back layer of clay scented paper and pieces of styrofoam used to provide another layer of protection. Her grin was growing wider and wider, like that of a cat presenting their caught prey to their designated human.
"Nuh-uh-uh!" Instead of the glee she probably expected, the usual rambunctious blonde was now leaning as far back as possible with a positively stricken look on her already pale face. "Wherever you got that from, put it back. Red, don't hog all damn the salt!"
Pamela needed only a single look for her take the cap off the salt shaker and use her thumb to control the steady flow of salt to form a quick half circle around her area. And after passing it over to Harley, she took a good look at the cursed looking statue. It's surface was rough, carved from some sort of stone and whatever details it might've once had had been worn away under the endless march of time. But the squat and plump figure was enough for her to know it was in the form of a women, a smiling thing with two empty sockets for eyes. In it's 'hands', it held a staff of sorts. Bladed, spiked or now, she didn't know and honestly she didn't really want to know.
"What's wrong with it?" Despite how bewildered Selina looked, she too had formed a thin salt half-circle around herself. "When did you guys get so superstitious?"
"What's wrong?" Harley parroted, her voice coming out shrill. "That thing looks sooo cursed! Why would you touch it?! That's literally the type of thing Al would put in front us before fucking us over! It's a plot-line waiting to happen and I want nothing to do with it!"
"Oh." The brunette did not look amused in the slightest. "Is this coming from one of your nerdy games?"
"Something like that." The red head nodded. It was the sort of thing Albert would all too gleeful lure them into taking, promising all different levels of power only to rip the rug right from underneath them. And as for the idea of magic being a falsity? She was literally part plant, modeled exactly after the dryads of old. Even if there were no dangers involved, it was better to be safe than sorry. "You should just put it back. Bring it back to the grandmother or something."
"Don't tell me you brought it in your house?! You gotta get a priest or something to swing by to exorcise everything! Hell, that bag might even be compromised...I can take it off your hands though! Not the statue but the bag."
"It would be pretty awkward to return it…" Selina hummed in thought, carefully re-wrapping the small statue taking care to use the paper to directly touch its surface. As though she could undo everything. "I'll take your word for it and just sell it. Who knows, maybe it'll somehow wind up where it belongs."
"I just want you to know one thing." Harley, for once had a grave air. A rare sight indeed. "If you wake up one night and see that thing on your nightstand, don't call me!"
A notion, Pamela agreed whole heartedly with.