@thejokersjester liked the thing for a thing
Sometimes the weight of your existence, the full depth of every mistake, miscalculation, regret, retrospect, mulled and re-mulled in the shifting darkness of your own self inflicted prison that you simply had to step out and clear your head. It wasn’t so much that he lost track of time, but in a place devoid of entropy, it simply became a hazy sort of concept you didn’t particularly want to think about. There was his silent duty, of course, but he had his precautions. When he found his mind spiraling down paths that were entirely questionable at best, there was no recourse but to go for a walk, so to speak.
The multiverse was vast and endless, after all, and finding his way back here again was far simpler than navigating time and space as a whole. He could visit something familiar, or something wildly new and exciting…
Ultimately, he settled on a middle ground, a timeline of Earth far removed from his own timeline- there might be whispers, but the Constants were different enough, and besides, this strange place seemed to be toward the New Jersey side of the river, familiar enough, but no one he’d know would be there in any case. There was evidence of the use of magic and meta-humans of a sorts in this reality, so he wouldn’t be entirely out of place, but it would be a nice change of pace. Some city called Gotham… well, it seemed like a place he’d fit in, at least for a spell.
Energy crackled in the alleyway, golden sparks and shifting shadows as the man in his battered, ancient looking suit jacket appeared, quietly drinking in the gloomy, poorly lit scenery before spotting what he was looking for- a bar. Perfect. The drink was always welcome, but the idea of being around and close to humans again was inviting, as well as intimidating in all honesty. Interdimentional catastrophes he could deal with in a heart beat. Social skills? Those had become increasingly rusty over the centuries.
He ordered his drink, glancing sideways at someone seated down the bar from him, noting that the currency looked normal-american enough, before gesturing under the countertop in a subtle flash of light, and placing his own bills on the table. Sip and listen. Was this how The Watcher felt, he wondered. Maybe if he made himself invisible.
Harley was having a bad night, her head full of sour memories, rotten fights, gaslighting that had seeped into her gastrointestinal tract like some kind of parasitic worm, sapping her good mood away. It was days like this that she knew she should get out of her apartment and be around other people, no matter how much she’d prefer to curl up in bed with a tub of ice cream and a five dollar pizza.
She could at least count on this little hole in the wall bar to be free of anyone she knew. Directly, anyway. It was hard keeping track, considering all the chaos of her life before leaving the Joker. She’d just enjoy the simple din of glasses clinking and casual conversations happening around her. Maybe, if her mood picked up, she’d kick the karaoke machine into gear and try to drum up a little party.
But to do that, she would have to pick her head up and out of her arms on the bar first. With a little groan, Harley did so, pouting at the glass of cheap beer in front of her, until she felt someone’s gaze nearby. She glanced over, staring at him as she searched her memory, and couldn’t seem to recall ever seeing his face before. She lifted her glass to him with a little smile, and took it as a sign from the universe that this was her chance to strike up a conversation and find some distraction.
“Jeez, sweetie...you’re lookin’ a little worse for wear, huh? Y’wanna talk about it?”
