Someone come get their clown. He thinks he’s Bam Bam from the Flintstones
@justacomedy @pmlisly
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Someone come get their clown. He thinks he’s Bam Bam from the Flintstones
@justacomedy @pmlisly
Plotted starter for @pmlisly
Rick was sitting in his office, reading over the files all spread over his desk. He probably did that for the tenth time this week and it was probably inevitable to finally have a talk to the woman mentioned from the witnesses and still he just couldn’t get through with it. It wasn’t the first time her name popped up and Rick had enough good connections to his underground informants to know that she could be one of his big successes, but still... he just couldn’t decide to finally interrogate her. In fact he tried to keep his informations a secret to his colleagues just because he wanted to find out more about her, thinking that a woman like her couldn’t be involved in such crimes since it wouldn’t fit to his perfect world.
He had read about her, he even went to that Iceberg Lounge once to see her in person and everything about her appearance was just too intriguing that he didn’t want it to be true so they wouldn’t be on two different sides of the law. For so long he had worked to get to this position, but during the last weeks he blamed his role as a sheriff for making him responsible for such decisions. Before he only followed the missions he was given, didn’t question it or hesitated to follow. But now with having more power and responsibility, he wanted to change some things and follow what his instincts told him, rather than blindly following the law.
“Boss, should we follow that...” a colleague approached him in the hallway after he rushed out of his office, but Rick just waved him off and huffed back “Not today. I have to go home and change, let’s discuss that tomorrow.”
“Change? Are you having a date?” It wasn’t unusual that his colleagues were interested in his personal life after he got divorced from Lori, but sometimes he just hated their nosiness. Especially when he questioned his own decisions often enough. Was he really the right one to be working in this position or was he just irresponsible? Probably a mix from both.
===
After changing into a classic white plaid and some black pants, he let a cab drive him to the Lounge. He paid the driver generously and stepped to the entrance where security gestured at him to get inside. Rick hoped he didn’t do that cause he knew who he was, but even if, it might have been a good sign that he let a cop enter a bar full of possible suspects. Or was it not?
After taking a deep breath he sat down at the bar and ordered a whisky, his eyes scanning his surroundings wordlessly. At one point there were two ladies trying to get him into a conversation, maybe even a flirt he gently rejected cause tonight he was only here for one person only.
It took maybe half an hour until he saw Ivy entering and chit chatting to some guys at the entry. “Excuse me, what does this woman drink usually?” he asked the waiter who just scoffed at him.
“You shouldn’t do that, Mister. Listen to me.” Rick rolled his eyes to his comment but well, maybe he was right and he just should let things happen to see where they go, what did he know about such stuff anyways since he couldn’t call himself an expert for women after just dating his one time Highschool sweetheart and marrying her.
So he waited until Ivy stepped up next to him at the bar to order something, where he now mumbled “I would invite you, if you wouldn’t mind.”
Their eyes met and Rick gestured at the seat next to him. “I really would like to talk to you, Miss. You have a minute? My name is Rick.” It was hard to keep up her gaze. Her eyes as intriguing as during the first time he saw her and didn’t even dare to approach her and right now he remembered why. At least he wasn’t babbling like an idiot and got one step closer to what he wanted, so that was a win. “But never mind, I don’t wanna steal your time if you don’t want to.”
They say that whiskey has a habit of numbing your mind, but tucked away towards the back of one of Gotham’s seedy bars, even whiskey couldn’t dull the pain of stress Nahvee began to feel. She’s spend the entire day chasing dead leads- which was nothing new to her considering that her boss seemed to thoroughly enjoy giving her the run around to give the guys at the office an advantage over her and the silence of her tiny apartment was too much for her to bear. All she wanted was to come out, get drunk and enjoy herself getting carried away dancing to the beat of the music at one of the local bars. But instead: she gets drunk and dealing with some creep of a man that doesn’t seem to get the message when she repeatedly asks him to back off.
She’s moved closer to the bar as a first attempt to bring herself into the view of other people rather than lingering any longer towards the back and he’s practically attached to her hip. His hands keep reaching for her waist and she continuously sweeps them away with an obvious discomfort. At this point- she didn’t even want to drink anymore: the walk home was about to be tedious enough and she was already swaying slightly in the red pumps she stood in and her vision blurred as she was bordering between being drunk and fucked up. Her attempts to get the bar tender’s attention by waving him down fail as the bar is crowded and he seem to be far too busy to even notice her. And she considers leaving- to run out the doors but she knows that she wouldn’t get very far. Her eye dart around the room almost desperately before the fellow that’s been handsy with her suddenly grabs her by the hips and pulls the small woman flush against him.
Nahvee let out a gasp, her hands immediately moving to his chest where she attempts to push him off of her but he grips her tightly, fingers digging into her sides. “I said let me go-” she said in a huff, hands moving down to his to try to pry his fingers from her hips to no avail as he begins to step forward and guide her backwards despite her obvious struggles. ‘You ain’t goin’ anywhere but with me, girl.’ he says firmly, a disgusting grin spread from ear to ear as he accidentally bumped into the back of a red headed woman as he’s practically forcing Nahvee backwards towards the back of the bar- though he seemed to distracted by his victim to apologize, completely unware of just who he just bumped into. @pmlisly
@pmlisly
Roman’s eyes cracked open to the lowlight as his head throbbed and ached. Everything looked very...green as he tried to recollect his thoughts. He remembered chasing a target across some warehouse then down the street. They jumped over some traffic and then there were....flowers. Lots of them.
He also recalled the target getting flung by some flash of green while he smelled something citrusy. His body had gone limp and there was a thud. What was the thud?
As he thought more on it, he felt his vision coming back in full as he saw vines and plants all around him. Was he in some kind of greenhouse?
He tried to lift his arms or stand up from the chair he was in but his limbs were cinched.
There was the age old question coming.
“Where...where the fuck am...”
@pmlisly wants to hear a joke
J had complicated feelings towards Ivy. On the one hand, she was a classic “hater” and therefore deserved nothing but vitriol (I wanna water ya an’ yer fuckin’ plants with ACID, baby), but on the other hand - and there was ALWAYS another hand, wasn’t there? - she had the prettiest little face with killer lips. Literally.
“Don’t PISS on me an’ call it RAIN,” he declared, leaning forward with a scowl. “Yanno full-well I dunno where Harls has gone to, ‘cuz if I did, I wouldn’t be fuckin’ sittin’ here. So why’d you REALLY come here?”
♡ ‘d one-liners ☆ PAMMY // @pmlisly ♢
❝ Well at least the tv’s in one piece , but uh Psycho went — well , Psycho !! ❞
@pmlisly said: ❛ hello ? is someone there ? ❜
Entirely fixated upon the glow of the television screen, J sits upon his couch nursing a cigarette. He didn’t even hear her knock or the sound of the door opening and the sound of Ivy’s voice was drowned out in his mind as he’s too engulfed into the news clips of recent events were airing over the television. News coverage from the previous night: he showed up to a massive rally that his followers sparked. With a public display of murder, Joker executed yet another name on the list of people who’d done him wrong and despite everything that’s broken out, the news anchors reporting the recap of the story are openly mocking his actions- calling him a coward and a loonatic on live television. And despite how often insults are thrown his way, these sort of things always tend to get under his skin and like a festering wound, they eat away at him until he can’t take it anymore and he feels the need to eradicate people like them. People who mock him and undermine him: something so petty but after a life time of idly sitting by and letting people stomp all over him- he has no further tolerance for such things.
The sound of Ivy’s heels clacking against the tile flooring of his apartment caught his attention, though his gaze remains fixated on the screen. He knows who it is without needing to look and he presumes that she’d take a seat and maker herself comfortable because she knows that she can- that his home is her home too. Something that’s been left unspoken but a fact known between the two in silence. Smoke streams slowly from his lips against the butt of the cigarette that he keeps close to his mouth and he finally speaks. “These people never learn.” he commented aloud more to himself than anything, irked over the situation and this was portrayed with his current, darkened demeanor. His gaze finally shifts slowly from the tv to look towards Ivy, her presence alone already beginning to ease his mind. “I almost thought you weren’t going to stop by tonight.”
@pmlisly said: [ sleep ] for your muse to wake mine
Sleep didn’t come easy for a man plagued by insomnia so he often took what he could get, even if that means he falls asleep watching television kicked back on his sofa. Ivy’s spent the night- which wasn’t anything new for the pair of them and he laid with her for hours before pulling himself from the bed and moving to his couch. The tv screen illuminating the room as he watched some old black and white movie with the volume turned all the way down for a few hours, burning through his cigarettes as he passed time waiting for his body to allow him to sleep. And finally, he did. Despite having slept for a few solid hours, he doesn’t feel as if any time passed at all. The feeling of warmth from Ivy’s palm as she so gently coaxes him to wake up, tired eyes cracking open to meet her gaze before he shifts forward from the position he’d been leaned back into.
“What time is it?” he asked, bringing a hand to run through his thick brown curls in a sweeping motion to slick them back. They’d spent the night stirring up some trouble out in Gotham Square before he swept Ivy away and brought her home with him near three in the morning and he wasn’t sure what time he’d fallen asleep himself. But by the brightness of the sun peeking through the closed curtains, he could only assume that it was at least noon. He didn’t have plans today- but he often never made plans: he just does. He looks up to the woman again, a slight glimmer of deviousness glimmering in his eyes as he reaches for hips gently to guide her close to him and try to see if she’d come settle down on the couch with him as he wanted her close. “Actually- don’t tell me. I don’t care.” he said. It didn’t matter to him. “You should come sit with me.” he suggested, eyes trailing up her body to meet with her gaze. “Or do you have better things to do today?”