Post by Harley Quinn on May 6, 2009 19:09:11 GMT -5
Name: Harley Quinn (formerly known as Harleen Quinzel)
Age: 20-something...never actually specified.
Canon Or Original: Canon, baby!!
Picture:
History: (As much as you know.) Harley Quinn--born Harleen Quinzel--was a psychiatric school graduate, although it appeared that she had more or less slept her way through school (interpret that as you wish
). She seemed to know actually little or nothing about psychiatry, so it was surprising that she managed to land a job (internship, actually) at the notorious Arkham Asylum.
But she did land the job, and whether it turned out to be the biggest mistake of her life, the Joker's life, or Jerimiah Arkham's life still remains unknown. Harleen, after only a few moments of her new job, found her self strangely drawn to the infamous Joker, the same way he appeared to be strangle drawn to her. She pulled what strings she could and eventually had a private therapy session scheduled with the Joker.
She had spent months researching his tricks, gimmicks, and felt absolutely confident that she could handle him. But Harleen found her feelings for the Joker slowly and steadily changing. Moved by his tales of mistreatment, and convinced (by him) completely that he was the good guy in the entire Joker/Batman equation, Harleen no longer felt the patient/doctor connection with him.
She was in love.
Harleen tried at first to deny her feelings about him to herself, but eventually she gave up and let them lurk quietly behind her calm-ish therapist front. Until, that is, the Joker managed to escape from Arkham.
She was a bundle of nerves, panic-stricken at all times, constantly worrying about her beloved Puddin', whether he was hurt or in danger. Batman eventually caught him and brought him back to Arkham. The Joker was in a very bad state, all beaten up and barely consious (lol, i totally spelled that wrong
), and it was seeing her beloved like that that made her snap.
Snap. Harleen went completely insane, her fragile little mind crumbling into a million pieces. The line she had known for the longest of times, the one distinguishing right from wrong, humor from murder blurred over. She snuck out of Arkham in the dead of night, raided a costume store for an outfit (it was a red and black Harlequin costume), as well as several, er, novelty weapons. And, sneaking back into Arkham, she broke the Joker out. It was then Harleen Quinzel took on the persona of Harley Quinn--an obvious play on her name and the Harlequin clown--and became the Joker's loyal girlfriend/sidekick/punching bag.
She was no longer Arkham's doctor. Now she was Arkham's patient.
Personaity: Harley is, for someone who is kicked aorund nd mistreated as much as she is, for someone who does the things that she does, a bright and sparkly person. She's the perfect example of a perky blonde, because that's what she is--that's exactly what she is, a blonde whose perky.
She handles her job with pride and happiness, viewing, as does the Joker, her murders and crimes as one big joke. She's nmever (yet) shown remorse over her crimes...her mental state is, well, not very stable (at all), and so it is believed that she doesn't fully realize the impact of the things she does...
Harley can be very emotional. She wears her heart on her sleeve. When she's sad, everyone knows it, when she's angry, everyone can tell, happy, it's obvious. The only person she has to hide her emotions from is the Joker, because her showing humanoid feelings infuriates him (he prefers her to be an obidient little henchgirl).
Alignment: Villain. Not a sidekick. Harley is a VILLAIN.
Occupation: The Joker's henchgirl/girlfriend/sidekick/punching bag
Custom Title: The Joker's Girl
Home: Wherever the Joker 'lives' at the moment (he likes to move around)...so where would that be?? The Amusement park??
Roleplay Sample: (One Paragraph minimum for your Character. Any tense and First or Second Person.)
The total silence in the alley weirded her out. In fact, she found herself to be shaking, which was absolutely ridiculous considering the things she had seen in her time.
In her time. Harley didn't like the sound of that; it made her sound like she was, like, a ninety-year old woman.
"I am not a ninety-year old woman," she insisted to whoever wanted to listen. Of course, no-one was there so no-one would want to listen--
Logic. Oy.
She was dressed in her costume, and Harley wished she had brought a jacket or something, because it was freezing at this time.
"It's spring," she grumbled, her breath coming out in a little puff of white air, "And I think that Mother Nature or whoeva's in charge of this stuff should get with the program al'redy. Sheesh."
She felt kinda silly talking to herself. Silly. Bah. Silly was her lifestyle. Her whole entire existance could be described with 'silly.'
But it was cold. Harley was willing to swear that her white grease paint was freeezing into white grease ice right on her face.
"Puddin'?" she called out, sort of recalling one of their hide-outs being somewhere around this area she was walking in. They had so many hide-outs it was hard to keep track of them all, and she felt a little guilty. A good henchgirl would know all the hide-outs. A good henchgirl would make charts and maps and other official stuff.
Harley dismissed the thought with an internal pout. "I'm a good henchgirl," she muttered, and then a little louder repeated, 'I'm a good henchgirl!!"
Whirling around, she squealed, suddenly happy, "I AM a good henchgirl!! I am, I AM!!"
((accept me?? *puppydogeyes*))
Age: 20-something...never actually specified.
Canon Or Original: Canon, baby!!
Picture:
History: (As much as you know.) Harley Quinn--born Harleen Quinzel--was a psychiatric school graduate, although it appeared that she had more or less slept her way through school (interpret that as you wish
). She seemed to know actually little or nothing about psychiatry, so it was surprising that she managed to land a job (internship, actually) at the notorious Arkham Asylum.But she did land the job, and whether it turned out to be the biggest mistake of her life, the Joker's life, or Jerimiah Arkham's life still remains unknown. Harleen, after only a few moments of her new job, found her self strangely drawn to the infamous Joker, the same way he appeared to be strangle drawn to her. She pulled what strings she could and eventually had a private therapy session scheduled with the Joker.
She had spent months researching his tricks, gimmicks, and felt absolutely confident that she could handle him. But Harleen found her feelings for the Joker slowly and steadily changing. Moved by his tales of mistreatment, and convinced (by him) completely that he was the good guy in the entire Joker/Batman equation, Harleen no longer felt the patient/doctor connection with him.
She was in love.
Harleen tried at first to deny her feelings about him to herself, but eventually she gave up and let them lurk quietly behind her calm-ish therapist front. Until, that is, the Joker managed to escape from Arkham.
She was a bundle of nerves, panic-stricken at all times, constantly worrying about her beloved Puddin', whether he was hurt or in danger. Batman eventually caught him and brought him back to Arkham. The Joker was in a very bad state, all beaten up and barely consious (lol, i totally spelled that wrong
), and it was seeing her beloved like that that made her snap.Snap. Harleen went completely insane, her fragile little mind crumbling into a million pieces. The line she had known for the longest of times, the one distinguishing right from wrong, humor from murder blurred over. She snuck out of Arkham in the dead of night, raided a costume store for an outfit (it was a red and black Harlequin costume), as well as several, er, novelty weapons. And, sneaking back into Arkham, she broke the Joker out. It was then Harleen Quinzel took on the persona of Harley Quinn--an obvious play on her name and the Harlequin clown--and became the Joker's loyal girlfriend/sidekick/punching bag.
She was no longer Arkham's doctor. Now she was Arkham's patient.
Personaity: Harley is, for someone who is kicked aorund nd mistreated as much as she is, for someone who does the things that she does, a bright and sparkly person. She's the perfect example of a perky blonde, because that's what she is--that's exactly what she is, a blonde whose perky.
She handles her job with pride and happiness, viewing, as does the Joker, her murders and crimes as one big joke. She's nmever (yet) shown remorse over her crimes...her mental state is, well, not very stable (at all), and so it is believed that she doesn't fully realize the impact of the things she does...
Harley can be very emotional. She wears her heart on her sleeve. When she's sad, everyone knows it, when she's angry, everyone can tell, happy, it's obvious. The only person she has to hide her emotions from is the Joker, because her showing humanoid feelings infuriates him (he prefers her to be an obidient little henchgirl).
Alignment: Villain. Not a sidekick. Harley is a VILLAIN.
Occupation: The Joker's henchgirl/girlfriend/sidekick/punching bag
Custom Title: The Joker's Girl
Home: Wherever the Joker 'lives' at the moment (he likes to move around)...so where would that be?? The Amusement park??
Roleplay Sample: (One Paragraph minimum for your Character. Any tense and First or Second Person.)
The total silence in the alley weirded her out. In fact, she found herself to be shaking, which was absolutely ridiculous considering the things she had seen in her time.
In her time. Harley didn't like the sound of that; it made her sound like she was, like, a ninety-year old woman.
"I am not a ninety-year old woman," she insisted to whoever wanted to listen. Of course, no-one was there so no-one would want to listen--
Logic. Oy.
She was dressed in her costume, and Harley wished she had brought a jacket or something, because it was freezing at this time.
"It's spring," she grumbled, her breath coming out in a little puff of white air, "And I think that Mother Nature or whoeva's in charge of this stuff should get with the program al'redy. Sheesh."
She felt kinda silly talking to herself. Silly. Bah. Silly was her lifestyle. Her whole entire existance could be described with 'silly.'
But it was cold. Harley was willing to swear that her white grease paint was freeezing into white grease ice right on her face.
"Puddin'?" she called out, sort of recalling one of their hide-outs being somewhere around this area she was walking in. They had so many hide-outs it was hard to keep track of them all, and she felt a little guilty. A good henchgirl would know all the hide-outs. A good henchgirl would make charts and maps and other official stuff.
Harley dismissed the thought with an internal pout. "I'm a good henchgirl," she muttered, and then a little louder repeated, 'I'm a good henchgirl!!"
Whirling around, she squealed, suddenly happy, "I AM a good henchgirl!! I am, I AM!!"
((accept me?? *puppydogeyes*))
