#billionairebat

[harleyy--quinn-blog]

+billionaire-bat

Maybe it was the fact that Harley had been locked up in Arkham for a month straight, or maybe it was the dullness that had settled into her own mind, but it was far too quiet in Gotham that night. Her red and black boots popped against the pavement, echoing off of the glittering buildings as she skipped through the empty streets. It had been ages since she had slipped on her catsuit; the instant she put it on, she felt more at home than she had in weeks. She tried, as desperately as possible, to ignore the fact that there was a nagging in her brain, reminding her that the one reason she even wore the suit, her dear Joker, was noticeably absent from her side, making her feel the empty feeling of loneliness that tugged at her stomach whenever she thought about him. So instead, she skipped, forcing herself to feel happy and free as her cowl dangled down her back. 

In her mind, she had no reason not to feel happy and free. She could finally do whatever she wanted, without feeling tied down to her immovable force of a man. Batman had done exceedingly well at leaving her alone since she'd been released. Her doctor had, for whatever reason, noted her as perfectly capable of being released back into society. There was no way she was going to let her life go sour this time. 

A quiet rustling above her head disturbed her thoughts but she ignored it the best she could; instead she started to sing, letting the beats of her skipping keep rhythmical time: "You and me together / Nothing feels so good / Even if I get a medal from my local neighborhood / I won't need a castle, they've got castles in Versailles / And I'm still stranded, wondering why / Make it a beautiful night for me / It's a beautiful night for love / A wonderful sight for lovers of love to behold / Make it a beautiful night for me / It's a beautiful night for love / A wonderful sight for lovers of love to behold."

[fear-is-my-business-blog]

billionairebat started following you

Crane took a sharp turn in his van down the otherwise empty street, his foot pressing down on the pedal, pushing ninety miles per hour. With the hand that wasn’t steering down the barren street, he was pulling his crooked glasses from his face and shoving them in his breast pocket. He reached over to the passenger seat, snatching his mask from the seat and pulling it over head. It was a dangerous move considering the high speed and bad lighting of the street, but his head hadn’t exactly been in the right place since he sucked up his own fear toxin.

With a screech of the wheels, the jeep pulled over to the side of the street and the side door was thrown open. Crane soon came toppling out, head turning to face the parking garage to his right. This was the address on the note he receive a week ago.. There was suppose to be a heist of some kind. There looked to be no one in the building though.

That was a bit troubling.