Below are the 8 most recent journal entries recorded in harley_quinn's InsaneJournal:

Tuesday, May 10th, 2011
2:06 pm	Dear Diary page 8 *** This is a fictional journal about a fictional person. It is also my interpretation of the character. It may or may not always be canon to the character's history. no profit is being made and is strictly for my amusement. *** Hey Diary, yep I'm back. I thought of something to talk about. Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane. I realized in my ramblings I made the same mistake that everyone else does when they bring that place up. They talk about the loonies inside and might mention off hand the creepy building but no one really talks about where the place came from. So since I have a few minutes before breakfast with Krystal and her brood, I thought I would rectify that. Not many people in Gotham knows where the creepy old building comes from but when I was hired to work there I dug into its history out of curiosity. Yeah I know, curiosity and the cat. Lucky I'm Harley and not Catwoman then huh? Arkham is named after the man who built it, Richard Arkham. And it wasn't first built to be a looney bin. It was built as the guy's home! Can you believe that someone used to live in that place as a home and actually thought about creating a family and living inside those walls? Gives me the creeps. Anyway, Richard Arkham was one of the founding fathers of Gotham. Along with Bruce Wayne's grand daddy. Together they carved Gotham out of the swamp and wilderness and tried to build a city of the future. Bleh. From what I could find out Richard Arkham and Alexander Wayne were the best of friends until Arkham got married to an actress of silent films. My research turned up that she was a real piece of work. Your typical snobbish prima dona actresses of the time. How Arkham convinced her to give up the bright lights of Hollywood and move to a city still under construction is anyone's guess. People will do funny things in the name of Love I guess. Anyway, Arkham built his mansion for his wife and I suppose for a while everything was hunky dory. Until Arkham caught his wife fooling around with the man he hired to maintain the grounds. That's when the Mrs. Arkham became the missing Arkham. The newly hired police force made a show of investigating but Arkham's name and his buddy Wayne was enough to keep them away for a while. Arkham is recorded as telling the police that his wife just went back to Hollywood and that was the end of it. Or would have been if Alexander Wayne hadn't gotten noisy and finally got his buddy to confess that he had walled his wife up in one of the many creepy stone rooms Arkham manor was made up of. You see Arkham was a weird and twisted place right off from the start. Most rich people of that time built huge houses of wood but Arkham had his home built almost entirely of stone. Indeed most of the underground areas of Arkham are carved out of the bedrock of Gotham and for some reason no one ever has figured out, Arkham built dozens and dozens of rooms. Some not bigger than a good sized walk in closet. In any case once Wayne found out his buddy had killed his wife, he turned Arkham over to the police. Arkham refused to tell anyone which room his wife and been sealed in and from what I could find out no one was really too eager to explore Arkham manor to find her. Arkham was tried, found guilty of murder, even though no body was ever recovered, and was sentenced to death. Richard Arkham tried to play the insanity card by saying the building told him to do it and insisted that if they wanted to punish him they should seal him in a room of his home. The police however opted for the simple and more practical rope necktie. Jump forward in time to Bruce Wayne's time. The young Wayne kid had seen his parents gunned down in front of him and once he came to age he had all the holdings of the Wayne estate dumped on his shoulders and low and behold one of the properties his family had was the Arkham place. Seemed when old man Arkham was hung, he willed the place to Richard Arkham. Why you would will a place to the man that turned you over to the cops I have no idea unless he hoped it would torment his former friend? In any case, young Bruce Wayne was saddled with the creepy decaying place and probably still hurting from his mother and father being killed signed the property over to Gotham City as a place to be used for those judged to be not responsible for their acts of crime due to insanity. Yeah, Bruce Wayne was the one to set the place up as a looney bin. Weird huh? Then again maybe not. The place with all those small rooms carved out of rock was a perfect place to 'bury' the crazies of Gotham. But that still begged the question. Why did Arkham make such a twisted and odd place? I came up with a theory after I went to work at Arkham. That old man Arkham had known his wife was the type to not remain faithful to him. I mean HELLO? Actress? So he built Arkham manor with all its weird rooms and Gothic architecture cause he was already building his insanity defense in case he needed it. And some orderlies looking for hidden treasure in the place discovered why Arkham had tried so hard to be entombed inside his own house. The place was riddled with secret passages. If the cops had walled Arkham up in his own house he had a fair chance of getting a room with a secret exit and would have been out and gone while the police thought he was still inside. For a while the orderlies kept the discovery to themselves. After all it was good to be the only ones to know about the many secret exits and passages in Arkham. A inmate uprising and the orderlies would have been the ones to get out first. Unfortunately, the orderlies were men and men like to talk. Especially if they were trying to get into a young new sexy doctor's pants. Yeah Diary. They told me about some of the passages. Yeah Diary. I can 'see' you frowning at me. Yes, when the Joker proposed his little joke with his gas and the staff of Arkham.... I told him about one of the passages. Since then I think almost every inmate ever to be in Akrham has learned of the passages and used to use them all the time to walk out of Arkham whenever they wanted to. Course in recent years they have totally redesigned Arkham on the inside. No longer do they rely on the stone rooms which may or may not have hidden exits in them. Now they put all the inmates in the 'gallery' A well lit series of bullet proof glass cubicles where inmates are clearly visible to the staff 24/7. We still get out of course but it is a little bit more difficult at least. Anyway that was the history of Arkham I managed to find out about. Why they didn't raise the place to the ground and build a totally new building to use as a prison for the insane? I guess the city just was trying to save money. If that was the reason, talk about being penny wise and pound foolish?
Thursday, April 28th, 2011
6:50 pm	Dear Diary page 7 *** This is a fictional journal about a fictional person. It is also my interpretation of the character. It may or may not always be canon to the character's history. no profit is being made and is strictly for my amusement. *** Okay Diary, today we talk about my arrival in the shining city of tomorrow, Metropolis. Which just for the record can be as dangerous, ugly and as dirty as Gotham is. I escaped from Gotham via a bus. Not my most elegant of escapes I admit. Your typical bus ride. A crying baby that would not be comforted? Check. A couple of teens trying to look tough but probably running away from home? Check. One super hot ex sidekick of a psychotic homicidal clown running for her life and expecting at any moment to have a knife shoved into her back? Double check. I can hear you ask Diary, how did I get a ticket for a bus ride when we last left me I was penniless and only had my clothes on my back and my purse? Easy. I stole the ticket. Oh and the clothes I was wearing. It wasn't like I held up someone to get the things though. As a matter of fact if you have a bent perspective on things, you could say that I merely salvaged the stuff. You see I ran to the bus station thinking if nothing else I might bluff my way on board a bus and get a few miles out of Gotham at least before they kicked me off. Anyway, while I was standing around the station trying to figure out what to do, I noticed these two young lovers having a spat. A teen guy that barely looked 18 and a girl that looked no where near that age. The guy was trying to convince the obviously having second thoughts girl to get on the bus. She had a suitcase and her ticket was sitting on it but she was having a panic attack. I could relate. She ran to the women's restroom leaving her luggage and ticket and the guy ran over to the door to talk to her through it. The suitcase and ticket were left sitting next to the seats. It was providence whacking me upside the head and saying.. Harley you were meant to get out of Gotham and go to.... I picked up the ticket and read the destination. Metropolis. Not my first choice I admit. Giving up one cape wearing do-gooder for another one. And this one super powered as well? but those running for their lives can't be choosers. So I grabbed up the case and ticket. Found a dark corner in the nearly deserted station and quickly changed out of my costume and into a sun dress the teen had packed. Lucky we were nearly the same size. Although the blouse was unbelievably tight across the chest. Sometimes being blessed can be a curse as well. But with a little effort I managed to get the 'girls' into the blouse and took shallow breaths to keep them from exploding out. The bus arrived and the guy was still trying to get his girl to come out so I walked right past him carrying his girl's suitcase and he didn't even notice. Arrived in the Metropolis station thinking I was in the clear when this huge woman wearing fur tried to grab me up in a hug and calling me Mabel. Yeah I can just hear you Diary. Maybe it was mistaken identity? I might have thought that too if she hadn't been wearing a Queen of Heart's symbol on the that fur coat and she hadn't been trying to jab me with a hypodermic needle! I elbowed her in the stomach and started running again. My first glimpse of Metropolis and it had to be of back alleys. Sigh. Ran into a new friend. Literally. A cute as a button and twice as shiny young thing named Krystal. We ducked into an alley together when a guy looked suspiciously at us. I slipped and fell into some red syrupy stuff at the entrance of the alley ruining the sundress. I wasn't having the best of luck with clothing lately. Krystal took me back to her place, fed me and cleaned up my injuries. She reminds me of my sis. Haven't talked to her in years. Not since I became the family 'stain'. Anyway, I think Krystal and me are going to be the best of friends. Oh Diary I didn't even tell you the coolest thing about Krystal. She is taking care of orphans. She feeds them, makes sure they have a warm dry place to sleep and even makes them go to school. Sure, its in a sewer and she is teaching them to steal to survive but who am I to judge how she accomplishes her missions? She cares which is more than most 'legal' orphanages do. Till next time Diary. Not sure what we will talk about next time but I'm betting things will remain interesting.
Wednesday, April 27th, 2011
3:06 pm	Dear Diary page 6 *** This is a fictional journal about a fictional person. It is also my interpretation of the character. It may or may not always be canon to the character's history. no profit is being made and is strictly for my amusement. *** Okay Diary today is the day I talk about the splitsville I had with the Joker. Did I finally find the last vestiges of my backbone and tell him to get lost and walk away? No. I really wish I could have said yes to that but it wasn't me that called the relationship done and over with. It was Mr. J. And he just didn't say something like, I think we should see other people. Oh no, not the Joker. He tricked me into going with him to a abandoned theater in Gotham, by the way Diary, why does Gotham leave so many of those old buildings standing? They have to know by now that they are nothing but hiding places for Gotham's criminals and low lives? Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah! The Joker had lead me to an abandoned theater. There I was standing on a dark stage, trying how to tell Mr. J. that I wanted to leave without him killing me and the curtains suddenly opened and a spotlight hit us. I was thinking the cops had found us. I wish that had been the reality. As the Joker just stood there with his arms folded and smiling that ghastly smile on his face, my eyes started to adjust to the bright light and I could make out that the seats of the old theater were filled. That was my first indication that I was sooo screwed. The next fact was that the people in the front audience I could see were all wearing on their lapels or blouses were card symbols. I mentioned that I had noticed over time that some of the interns at Arkham had taken to having tattoos with card symbols and I spotted a few lapel pins and even though I didn't know what they truly meant, I'm not a stupid woman. Card symbols? Joker? Goes together like peanut butter and jelly doesn't it? Or in the Joker's case like rusty razor blades and torture. Before I knew it I was grabbed by a couple of women body builders. Nice faces but muscle bound spoiling their looks. Yeah I know Diary. Concentrate. The women had dragged me over to a giant X that had been wheeled out by a couple of guys. One of them I recognized as an intern at Arkham that had been fired after the Joker had escaped one time. The muscle bound women strapped me to the X and the Joker left the stage to come back a moment later with machine that looked like a mail sorter out of the post office. He then told the crowd that his card-a-thon would hurl razor sharp Joker playing cards at me until I was cut to ribbons. A applause sign lit up above the stage and the crowd howled their approval. I of course pleaded with Mr. J. Told him that I loved him and how could he throw me away like this? I no longer cared for the creep but hey, face certain death and see what you'll say. This of course only made Mr. J. laugh even harder and he said. "Don't worry baby. At least you'll die as a grand punchline!" He flipped the switch on the device and it made a sound like a trash compactor wheezing to death and finally a single Joker card flew out of the device and thunked into the X right next to my head. Realizing that I was probably going to die, I started shouting what I really thought of the Joker, his peanut gallery and the horse he rode in on. I'm rather proud of the long list of swear words I called him Diary. And not once did I repeat a single one. Hang out with the scum of the earth for a while and you would be surprised at some of the colorful language you can pick up. Some of them I'm not even sure what they meant. For instance the Malodorous Malaprop, a curse word I think I picked up from the Riddler. The machine started to pick up steam and more cards came flying out and going in all directions. One of them hit the ropes holding my right hand and sliced through the rope. I don't need providence to smile on me more than once! I grabbed the card, managing to keep from cutting myself only because of the kevlar in my costume's gloves. Something Mr. J. must have forgotten about. Anyway a few slices later I was free from the X. The muscle women started to move towards me but hesitated because the device was still spewing deadly cards. All of which I managed to dodge and dance around. I was in the line of deadly fire but if I left it, those hulking women would crush me. And it was only a matter of time before one of those cards got lucky and sliced through my throat or hit a weak point in my costume and gone through me like a bullet through jello. I needed a miracle. And surprisingly one came in the form of all things... A bat. Yes a batarang slammed into the side of the machine and caused it rotate on the casters it was sitting on. Suddenly I wasn't the only one having to worry about becoming shredded wheat. Batman swung in on a batrope.... Does everything have to be called bat-something with him? I mean does he go to sleep on bat sheets? Wearing bat-jammies? Okay, sorry Diary. Got distracted there for a moment. Anyway, bats came swinging in. The Joker ordered his muscle women into the fight... Oh and Diary? You are not going to believe this. Their names were Olga and Ursla. Stereotyping much? Anywho, as Batman and the Joker and his new muscle Bobbsey twins duked it out and the crowd in the audience scurried away like rats. I hoofed it as fast as I could away. And Kept running. Got out of Gotham and kept going till I ended up in Metropolis. Alone, scared, hungry and not a penny to my name. The only thing I managed to leave with was my purse filled with some of the Joker's toys. No, I don't mean toys like that. I mean stuff like exploding whoopies cushion, gas gun, and party streamers that can tie someone up in seconds. That kind of toys. Next time Diary, we talk about arriving in Metropolis and meeting a new friend and a tragedy that has ripped my heart out and made me change my ways for good... Well, maybe?
Friday, April 22nd, 2011
10:00 am	Dear Diary page 5 *** This is a fictional journal about a fictional person. It is also my interpretation of the character. It may or may not always be canon to the character's history. no profit is being made and is strictly for my amusement. *** You know what Diary? I just realized today that I've been screwed and for a long time too! No, I don't mean Mr. J. Nor do I mean my father. I mean by Arkham itself. You see, like everything else, nothing last forever. So Mr. J.'s and my first time freedom from Arkham and crime spree eventually ended and we were thrown back into Arkham. So what I can almost hear you say Diary. So... As part of the 'process' I was examined by a court appointed doctor. And he didn't find the drugs that Mr. J. had been feeding me with! How could they not find the strong hallucinogenics and mind control crap Mr. J. had been giving me as his 'vitamins'? And then there is Arkham itself. I know the procedures. I was part of the staff just prior to a few months before. so why did I continue to get 'vitamins' after I was caged? And why, now that I'm thinking about it, was I always housed right next to the Joker's cell? The cells in Arkham are like large glass boxes. Boxes made of bullet proof material instead of glass maybe but still CLEAR boxes. I should have been housed in a female holding section, not that there has ever been a lot of females in Arkham. We females hide our insanity better than most men and you would be surprised by how much shit you can get way with by claiming it's your 'time of the month'. Most guys will instantly overlook any weirdness women do when faced with the mysterious 'time of the month' excuse. In any case. I shouldn't have been housed right next door to the Joker. It just doesn't make any type of sense at all. Him being my obsession, and I will admit I was obsessed with him, then he should have been kept as far out of my sight as possible so the shrinks could 'reach' me. Instead they had him right FREAKING next door to me at all times! How could Arkham ever think I would get better? Unless of course.... I was never meant to be made 'better'. Tell me Diary, when is it paranoia and when is it they are really out to get you? In latter yeas I noticed the number of guards and orderlies at Arkham that started wearing playing card symbols on their jackets or had tattoos of them and until recently I thought the Card Cult of the Joker's was a recent phenomenon but now I wonder. Just how long as this been going on? And was I somehow groomed to be the Joker's toy before I ever even met him? Everything seems to make some kind of awful sense now. Why did Hugo Strange pick a new nobody like me to be the Joker's psychiatrist? Sure there was extreme danger in being the Joker's shrink and that was enough to make most people think twice but there was also a great deal of money that could be made. The lecture circuit and book sales by being the Joker's analyst alone would be enough to draw some of the most qualified and famous of head shrinkers to risk it. So why me? Oh great. That would mean that Dr. Hugo Strange was a card cult member before they started wearing those card symbols! Crap! Just how many of those whack jobs are there? Got to be waaay more than just 52! In any case... If my suspicions are correct, that mean my entire life since graduating has been manipulated and controlled just to make me the Joker's ultimate punchline! Whoa Diary. I need to calm down. I mean who could plot something so diabolical and long range all just to ruin on person's life? Cept of course a grinning monster that does nothing day and night but think up 'gag's. I think I'm going to be sick Diary. Okay, I'm back. Yes, I did get sick a little. But I have to admit I have no proof my conspiracy theory is anything but my fear induced nightmares. Okay Diary. I can hear you asking when did I first realize the Joker wasn't everything to me? It started the time he threw me out. Well, I mean the first time. See we had pulled a crime and the Batman had gotten on our tail. I was driving the getaway car and the Joker was taunting Bats in his batmobile and I made a few tiny little mistakes. Like handing the Joker the wrong gun. So when he pointed it at the batmobile expecting a huge blast, all he got was a tiny flag coming out of the barrel that said 'bang'. It was funny actually. Pity Mr. J. didn't see the humor of it. He threw me out and told me not to come back. So I decided to steal the Harlequin diamond and surprise him with it. Well I planned that at first. Then I thought about keeping it for myself. After all, it was named after me. Wasn't it? Anyway, while pulling the heist... Which went off flawlessly, if I do say so myself, I ran into Poison Ivy pulling her own heist at the museum. Long story short. We escaped together and she took me back to her place. What to say about Poison Ivy? .... ... She was like the ultimate roller coaster ride. great hills, fast valleys and curves that can take your breath away. Yeah I was smitten at first glance. I admit it Diary. But who wouldn't be? Or for that matter who wasn't? Ivy could wrap men and women around her little pinky any time she wanted to. The thought of staying with her thrilled me. Well, okay. I still felt the pull of Mr. J. but when we fled the botched museum job and she took me to her home. I was content to stay there at least for a short time. The problem? Ivy's hideout was dangerous. I don't mean dangerous as the cops might break in at any moment. I mean dangerous as she lived over a toxic waste dump. The first ten minutes I was there I passed out. Woke the next morning with Ivy standing next to my bed holding a hypodermic needle in her hand. She explained she had to give me an injection of a special formula that was made with her blood so I could tolerate the toxic substances. What is with me and people making chemical concoctions out of their blood! Anyway, after Ivy gave me the shot, I became deathly ill. I mean really really sick. Ivy had been expecting a reaction to her blood of course but nothing like what I went through. Ivy had to put me into a bathtub and use icy water to break my fever. It was like nothing I had ever experienced and it frankly shocked Ivy. She was a biochemist you see. She knew what my reactions should have been and my body reacted totally unpredictably. Ivy told me it was like her shot was reacting to some other drugs in my system and she even asked me if I was a dug user. At the time I didn't even think of Mr. J.'s vitamins and told her no way was I a drug user. Anyway after I recovered from the shot we found out that no only had Ivy managed to instill in my body her immunity to poisons and toxic substances but that my reflexes and endurance had been amped up powerfully. I'm giggling Diary as I remember those first few days. It was wonderful! Not only was body reacting better than it had ever done before.. but my mind was clearer too. I literally bounced off the walls and ceiling trying my new skills and the excess energy I had. That is until Ivy found a way to harness my excessive exuberance. Yes Diary I mean exactly what you think I mean. Poison Ivy. The Deadly Siren. The Plant Queen. Took me as her lover. What is Ivy like as a lover I can hear you ask. She was... She was hard and demanding one moment and soft and submissive the next. She was... heaven. Yeah Diary. I fell in love with Ivy so much it almost hurt. I could have been happy with her for the rest of my life... But then Mr. J. came looking for me. Well, not so much me as the diamond I had stolen. That is until he noticed how close I was to Ivy. Then was when his possessive streak made itself know. I was his doll to be hold, or break he had told Ivy. And for Ivy, I fought against the Joker! And we escaped as the Joker became distracted with an appearance of the Batman. (okay, Ivy and I tried to kill Batman but he escaped and started fighting the Joker as Ivy and I escaped) In any case, Ivy and I were captured and returned to Arkham. As soon as I was back in Arkham they started giving me 'vitamins'. My endurance and strength, gifts from Ivy's wonderful blood stayed with me but over time my resistance to drugs and toxins started to weaken and in a short time I was calling the Joker, Puddin and planning our next escape and what me and my Puddin would do next. That hurt Ivy. I know it did but at the time neither I nor Ivy knew I was being slowly poisoned by drugs and at least partially my obsession with the Joker wasn't my fault! And that is how things went for a very long time. Mr. J. would get annoyed with me, or maybe he was just playing with me? Who knows any more. In any case, he would throw me out and having no where else to go, I would crawl back to Ivy and to keep me healthy she would inject me with her blood chemicals. My mind would clear. I would proclaim my undying love for Ivy... And Mr. J. would come back and get me. Diary, I remember the last time I saw Ivy. It was the same ol, same ol. Get kicked out. Go to Ivy. Get my injections. Make sweet love to Ivy. Cept this time Ivy told me it had to be the last. My body had finally built up a tolerance to her blood. My strength, endurance and reflexes would always remain the same but I could no longer be around Ivy. Her blood could no longer give me a immunity from toxins or poisons and that included the ones in Ivy's own body. At this point to stay with Ivy would have meant my eventual death. I refused to believe it. I aggressively took control and we had sex again. I figured Ivy was just bored with me and was lying to get me to leave. I was going to prove I could be everything to her as she was to me. And I woke the next day with a rash on my body and feeling like I was getting the flu. It was true. I was no longer immune to her toxins. I cried. Ivy cried. Yes Diary. Poison Ivy cried. And her tears as they fell on my naked body only made the rash worse/ The only comfort Ivy could give me as we parted that with time my body might lose its tolerance to her blood and we could be together again. She also vowed she would keep trying to find a way to make my immunity to poison permanent. It wasn't long after that, that the Joker declared himself head of the Card Cult and proclaimed my death sentence. I never went back to Ivy after that. I feared bringing the cult after her and she never tried to contact me either. Maybe she never found the permanent cure for me? Or maybe in her plants she managed to forget about me? As for me Diary? Well I went on to have other lovers. Both men and women and I still remain partial to red heads but I've never found anyone I cared for as much as I did... Do, for Ivy. I'm feeling down again Diary. Next time I will tell you about more about the revealing of the Card Cult, the last days with the Joker and my run for freedom away from Gotham City to Metropolis.
Wednesday, April 20th, 2011
1:08 pm	Dear Diary page 4 *** This is a fictional journal about a fictional person. It is also my interpretation of the character. It may or may not always be canon to the character's history. no profit is being made and is strictly for my amusement. *** *** Once again. This is FICTION. The events I write about have not happened to me or to anyone I know. Just FICTION *** Hoo boy, I guess its time to talk about the 'Incident' huh Diary? Okay but first I need to talk about something I haven't yet but you might have noticed. I've never mentioned my father have I? Dad wasn't a great guy. He was your stereotypical mean drunk that would come home and threaten his wife and his girls. Looking back I want to hate him but just like Mr. J. I have a weakness when it came to him. He was my father. Even when he got drunk and yelled and hit us I still couldn't stop loving him. And then that night happened... You know what Diary? I don't want to talk about that. Yeah, yeah, I know. Being a psychiatrist I know all the advice. Repressing memories of sexual abuse... I can't talk about it.... Damn blank page. It almost forces me to write about it. It happened one night when mom and sis were visiting relatives. I had just turned sixteen. Sweet Sixteen and never been kissed. I didn't want to go and since Dad was suppose to be off on a business trip I thought it would be safe staying home and doing some studying. I was trying to be a perfect A student in school, Remember? In any case my decision to stay home alone turned out to be among some of my worse ideas. Dad had came back from his business trip early and had went straight from the airport to the local strip club and got really really smashed. Drunker than he had ever been before... And he was horny from watching the stripper working their poles. You don't need the details Diary. I'm sure you can guess them. It happened. Daddy crossed a line that no father should ever cross and... I would have probably have forgiven him even then. He was dad after all.... But then he laughed at me. I was broken and in tears and he laughed at me! I snapped. Honestly Diary! The next thing I remember was standing in the back yard with a shovel in my hands and a newly filled in hole. There was an old free standing play house in the back yard that me and my sis used to play in when we were younger. I pulled it over the newly turned earth and later turned it into a private study where I could go when my sis made too much noise in the house. Yeah, I know Diary. Could I have screwed myself up any more if I had tried? Anyway, after... Well you know, I took Daddy's car and moved it down the street to an area where cars were stolen all the time and sure enough by morning Dad's car was gone. Mom and sis came home and after a few days Mom just assumed that Dad had walked out on us and wasn't coming home. And I? I studied even harder and tried to help Mom even more than before and tried to forget what had happened. And you know what Diary? I did. I had buried... Well I had repressed my memories so deep I didn't remember that night and actually started believing like mom and sis that dad had just left us. I always had the feeling it was my fault somehow but I managed to forget just how true that was. I never recovered that memory until after I was thrown out by the Joker for the first time... But that is an entry for another time Diary. Why did I bring that horrible time up for you now Diary? Cause much later I realized that when I had gotten to know The Joker I made him my surrogate father figure. Except unlike my real father, Mr. J. never touched me. Oh he beat and kicked me, he tied me up and whipped me with a rubber chicken and.... Well the point is, Mr. J. never attempted to sexually touch me. He used to say it would blunt his comedic edge if he engaged in sex so it was out. But that was in the 'future'. At the time I helped him to escape Arkham the first time it was because he made me laugh. He was a father figure to me. And he managed to convince me that he was right. That life is a cruel vicious joke and the only thing we can do is make sure someone else is the punchline. So when he asked me for chemicals to make a laughing gas so he could escape... I did it. He told me that using some simple chemicals and his own blood he could make a gas that he was thinking of either calling Smilex or Joker Venom and it would harmless make the guards laugh and we could leave together. Yeah Diary, I know now but I didn't then that the Joker's blend of chemicals doesn't induce harmless laughter. It kills. But I swear as God is my witness I didn't know it then! I thought it was just a harmless lark. That we would skip out hand in hand while everyone was laughing and that Mr. J. would be caught a few days later and returned to Arkham. Sure I knew I was throwing away my career at Arkham and as a psychiatrist, but I was so lonely and screwed up inside that I didn't care. I just wanted to be happy for a change. Even if it was only a short while... I deserved to be happy for a change, didn't I? I learned a day later in a cheap hotel that we were holed up in that the guard staff and a few of my fellow shrinks I had know by name had died from the gas. I was going to turn the Joker in right then! I swear it! But he looked at me and opened his arms and called me... Baby. I just couldn't turn him in! And how could I condemn him for what had happened when I had got the chemicals for him? I mean he was crazy. What was my excuse? The guards and staff's blood was more on my hands than his! so I spent the time crying. First time I learned that was a mistake. No one cries or frowns around Mr. J. He slapped and beat on me because I wasn't seeing the 'grand joke' of it all. When I awoke from my beating Mr. J. was there brushing my hair and telling me that everything would be all right. He had some kind of vitamin with him and a glass of water. Course I didn't believe him. I figured the capsule he was trying to get me to take was probably cyanide but by that time I didn't care. I deserved to die so with a weak smile I took the horse pill looking thing and swallowed it. Everything went loopy and the colors of the world seemed to melt and mix and everything just seemed so damn funny. I must have lain on my back with my head hanging off the edge of the bed and giggled for hours... Or maybe it was days? I don't know. Anyway it became a daily ritual after that. Every time I started to feel a little bit down or start to question what the hell I was doing, Mr. J. Would be there with one of his miracle vitamins and everything was fun once again! Yeah I know Diary. How could a smart, hard working and driven girl like me end up in such a pathetic position? Even after all this time I don't really know. Can I blame everything that has happened on Mr. J. originally tricking me and then drugging me? It would be easy to do so but... I can't help but feel it was still my fault. Maybe I was just so eager to escape my loneliness and find someone who cared for me that I blinded myself to what I was doing till it was too late? Okay Diary, I'm feeling really depressed and I don't have any of Mr. J's vitamins and wouldn't take them any more if I did so you are going to have to wait till later to hear more of what I did as Mr. J's sidekick and how I broke free of his drug induced obedience.
Tuesday, April 19th, 2011
1:35 pm	Dear Diary page 3 *** This is a fictional journal about a fictional person. It is also my interpretation of the character. It may or may not always be canon to the character's history. no profit is being made and is strictly for my amusement. *** Well Diary, here we are again. Okay I said this time we would discuss my first meeting with Mr. J. Oops, I mean of course, The Joker. Sorry old habits die hard and even now that I want that grinning clown to die a horrible death, I still find myself thinking of him as Mr. J. or... Okay, I'm ashamed to admit it but there are times, late at night, when I'm all alone that I think of him fondly as Puddin. I've spent a long long, and did I mention long time trying to figure out why I have such a weakness when it comes to the Joker. I mean it wasn't like he treated me well. I still have some burns and scars where he played his 'little pranks' on me and I maybe the only person on this planet that the Joker has tried to kill more times than he has tried to kill Batman. That's some achievement to be proud of, ain't it Diary? So how did I first meet the 'Clown Prince of Crime'? Well as my patient of course. I had been summoned by Doctor Hugo Strange, who was head of Arkham at the time and given the 'great' news that he was trusting Arkham's most dangerous patient to my care. Was I excited to meet the Joker? Um, NO! I was terrified. The Joker's records read like a accident insurance agent's worse nightmares. The Doctor who had been assigned to him before me had died from severe stomach problems. How as that the Joker's fault? Well the cells in Arkham used to be lighted by a single bare bulb in each cell and the Joker had the habit of balancing on the edge of his bed and biting the light bulb with his bare teeth. Since he was mostly kept in a straight jacket it was reasoned that was the only way he could plunge his cell into darkness. So of course every time he would bite into a light bulb they would take him to the infirmary to make sure he hadn't harmed himself and then to the shrink in charge of his care to 'talk' about why he would do such things. After the poor psychiatrist had died, they did an autopsy on her body and found her stomach and digestion tract was lined with broken glass. The kind of glass used in light bulbs. Get it? No? Well Mr. J. would bite into the light bulb. Hold the broken glass in his mouth, and no one found out in the infirmary because who wanted to stick their fingers into the Joker's mouth to probe for such things, and after being brought to his shrink's office he would wait till she left the room or was distracted and spit the glass into her coffee. The woman had the bad habit of knocking back a coffee and swallowing it all in one gulp. Or maybe the Joker would spit the glass into her sandwiches instead? The woman was in the habit of not leaving her lunch in the cafeteria fridge cause she feared the staff workers might steal her lunch. In any case Mr. J. managed to poison his shrink right in front of everyone and no one had known. And if that wasn't enough to make you want to avoid meeting the man... The Doctor before the woman before me died at the Joker's hands too. In his case he had insisted the Joker take walks everyday in the courtyard of Arkham as exercise made for a fit body and fit bodies lead to fit minds. Or some idiot nonsense like that. Anyway, one day while walking with his patient, The Joker pushed the man into a trough of water and then threw in a electric weed eater that the gardening staff had been using. Result one fried head shrinker. Oh? Where did the water trough come from? Another idiotic idea of the shrinks. They thought if the inmates of Arkham had animals to look after they would reach mental stability faster. They canned the idea of the animals after Killer Croc ate two of the dogs and one of the horses they had. So the animals was gone but the watering trough had been left behind. *shrug* In any case, I was anything but thrilled to meet the most infamous inmate of Arkham but if I refused my assignment, I would have been fired and I didn't want that. So making sure my office was bare of everything but two chairs and a desk, I agreed to start counseling the Joker. The first time the orderlies brought him to my office, slammed him into the chair on the other side of my desk and then turned and WALKED OUT SHUTTING THE DOOR behind them. I nearly freaked. Seems federal law states that no one other than a patient and his doctor can be present during counseling session. Who ever wrote that law should be forced to meet the Joker alone for an hour every day and see how they liked it. First session the Joker did nothing but stare at me with that smile of his. He refused to answer any of my questions and just studied me like a bug. Second session as the orderlies left, the Joker smiled at me and said in a chipper voice. "What's up Doc?" By the eighth session, Mr. J. had me rolling on the floor behind my desk laughing. Lunatic? Certainly. Dangerous? Beyond belief. Genuinely funny? Surprisingly, yes. The Joker was witty. He was funny? And most important of all things at the time. He listened to me when I talked about myself. Now normally I wouldn't have shared my life with an inmate at a criminally insane asylum but I was under orders to do just that! Another of Doctor Strange's ideas on how to treat a patient. That by sharing your life with them, you make them feel more 'human' and that can lead to a quicker recovery. BULLSHIT! All it did was give the Joker a way to worm his way into my heart and make me start to see things his way. Okay enough for today Diary. Next time we'll discuss the 'Incident'. When the Joker escapes Arkham and I go with him.
Monday, April 18th, 2011
5:25 am	Dear Diary page 2 *** This is a fictional journal about a fictional person. It is also my interpretation of the character. It may or may not always be canon to the character's history. no profit is being made and is strictly for my amusement. *** Okay, I said we would discuss my first days at Arkham didn't I Diary? So what can one say about Arkham to someone who has never seen it to sum it up perfectly? It's a pit. Okay, that's not fair or very descriptive is it? It's a dank, gothic, stinkin pit. A pit made to dump all the garbage of Gotham into and hope that it doesn't come crawling back out. Oh and they throw in a few shrinks to try and get the garbage to clean up its act so it can be recycled garbage and not just landfill. Not a glowing appraisal is it? So why did I pick it for my very first posting as a newly minted head shrinker? Oh, all right, as a clinical psychiatrist. The simple answer of course is... It wasn't my first choice. Or my second. Or my thirty-third to be honest. Towards the end of my college life I had one instructor that was known as a ball breaker. The kind of man that didn't believe in giving perfect grades no matter what you did. I wasn't thrilled with getting stuck with his class but he carried some prestige behind his name so his class did too. You got through his class with a passing grade you were considered to know your business so I took the chance... And found out the man was a real sleaze ball. Near the end of the term he propositioned me! Actually he extorted me. Either I put out for him or he was going to fail me even though I knew the course materials better than he did! Well that wasn't going to fly of course! Nobody puts little old Harley into a corner and walks away from it! So I wore a wire and got him to proposition me again and took the tape to the administration of the college. And the bastards tried to screw me over too! They took my tape of their prized professor acting like a horny teenager and then tried to tell me later that they had no idea what I was talking about and my failing grade would have to stand. Cept I didn't spend all those years in educational land and not learn a few things! I produced a copy of the tape and told them that if they accidentally lost that one too, not to worry I had made a dozen or so extras and they would go to every major paper I could think of unless I got the grade I deserved! Well the school gave me my A in that class keeping my straight A string unbroken but spread rumors that I was difficult to work with. So every prestigious place I applied to, turned me down flat. Well, that and my young age and what has been called my girlish appearance. So I liked wearing my pigtails long after I should have gotten a more grown up hairstyle. I liked them! Why should I have to change them? Well other than the fact that no one would take me seriously? And then out of desperation from all the rejection notices I applied to Arkham. And they snapped me up faster than one of Catwoman's kitties would pounce on a fish. I found out early the reason why Arkham was so eager to hire me. They had a high attrition rate. Qualified shrinks didn't last long at Arkham. They either went nuts, killed themselves or had 'accidents' at Arkham. So even though I wasn't exactly thrilled with Arkham I ended up there anyway. I needed a job. Student loans and interest don't just fade away on their own you know! And it wasn't really that bad. I had a natural way with the crazies inside. Okay Diary, stop snickering at me again. My early years at Arkham I was a good shrink. I think I really helped.... Okay, I probably didn't help any of the patients there. Not that anyone else did either. But in any case none of them attacked me or gave me the stony silence treatment which they did to the other shrinks. They would talk to me and in rare cases they opened up... A little? Maybe? Anyway, I was good enough that I was assigned to their toughest case. Yep, you guessed it Diary, Mr. J. Immediately after being assigned as Mr. J's shrink I noticed that the other personnel at Arkham stopped talking to me. They would ignore me in the halls or refuse to sit with me in the cafeteria. It really hurt! I thought I was well liked and suddenly I got the cold shoulder from everyone? I later figured out it was a defense measure on their part. No shrink had ever survived the Joker for long and they were distancing themselves from me so it wouldn't hurt so much when I finally had my little 'accident'. Do I blame any of them for what happened later when I became the Joker's little sidekick/doormat? Um, YEAH I DO! Sorry. I understand why they did it. I might have even done it myself if the roles had been reversed but not having anyone to talk to, feeling isolated and alone. They pushed me into confiding with Mr. J. and subsequently getting suckered by him but that's a story for next time Diary. Next time I will talk about my first meeting with the infamous Joker and how I started down the slippery slope.
Saturday, April 16th, 2011
1:39 pm	Dear Diary page 1 *** This is a fictional journal about a fictional person. It is also my interpretation of the character. It may or may not always be canon to the character's history. no profit is being made and is strictly for my amusement. *** The shrinks back in Arkham always tried to get me to keep one and having been one of those shrinks a short time back, I know that a journal or a diary can be useful in psychoanalysis someone. Though I don't need to be head shrinked. I'm perfectly fine. Okay diary don't think I didn't see you wince. I'm fine. Really I am, now. But I'm jumping way ahead of the game aren't I? Let's start at the beginning. I refuse to 'put myself on the couch' so don't expect this to read like a shrink's notes. So.. To start let me tell you about my mother... Okay, so it reads like a shrink's notes. Cut me slack. Some habits die hard. My mother and I didn't see eye to eye on a lot of things. For one thing I was the oldest of two sisters and once my baby sister was born I was pushed out of the limelight. After sis was born nothing I did was good enough. I learned how to play two musical instruments by the age of 8! And all I got was to hear the constant praise of my sister who learned to cross the road by herself. I mean come on! I could play two musical instruments and my six year old sister could cross the street by herself? I don't think the two accomplishments are equal, do you diary? Oh? What two musical instruments? *Looks around to make sure we're alone diary* I can play the violin and the piano but no one knows but you and me so don't going telling anyone, Kay? Not even Mr. J. ever knew I could play music, it was just my secret. I came close to telling Ivy once cause you know the whole music and plants? I thought it might endear myself to her better in the early times but once I realized I didn't really need to do anything else to make Ivy like me, cause she was hot for me at first sight. Not that she'll ever admit to that. Anyway, to get back to mom and sis. After baby sis was born nothing I ever done was good enough and nothing my baby sis did was ever wrong. *shrug* It's the way things go I suppose. Me and sis was never into sibling rivalry though. I always adored my baby sis and she adored me. Well until the whole Arkham thing but that's jumping ahead again. Trying to impress my mom I tried to be the best at everything I did and that included school. I had straight A's through my entire educational career. Yeah, I know Diary. I've heard the whispers and read the snide innuendos in the trash mags. That I'm just a ditz and I'm a typical blond. That I must have slept my way through high school and college to get my degree. Well, let me tell you right now Diary that is bullshit! I earned my way through school the old fashion way. Late night cramming sessions, studying in the library till they kicked me out rather than going on dates. Heck, I didn't even have my first kiss until my third year of college! And that was to the very Librarian that kept throwing me out of the library. She was such a cutie. Yes, dear Diary that part of what the trash mags say is true. I'm bi-sexual. I can remember the first time with Miss Stutergard in the library like it was yesterday. She caught me back in the research section after everyone had gone and gently took the books out of my arms and set them on a shelf as she told me that the library was closed and I had to be punished for always being the last one to leave and making her stay past her quiting time. I could have died when she put her hands on my shoulders and pulled me into a sudden kiss. I remember I thought at the time, I'm going to be raped by a well built redheaded MILF. I can remember the tingling of my lips as she kissed me and thinking... Oh shit. I'm a lesbian. LOL. Nothing happened beyond the kiss though. I think the woman was stunned by her own boldness and she allowed me to escape that night. Not that I was trying very hard or wouldn't have stayed with her if she had asked me. Not more than two days later she left her job. I keep wondering if it was because she feared being alone with me after hours and what might have happened? I also wonder if she is the reason I have a weakness for redheads? The next sexual experience I had was with a guy I was tutoring. Nice guy but a bit slow. At least when it came to academics. When he got me alone he was far from slow. He lunged and pinned me on top of the desk and savagely kissed me. I remember thinking, guys are nice too. But the way he was trying to dominate and control me? No way. Not happening! Nobody was ever going to dominate or control Harleen Frances Quinzel! Okay Diary, don't think I don't know you are laughing at me! But back then that was how I thought, okay? In any case I really wasn't interested in pursuing males or females. I wanted to wait till I had my degree in psychology in my hand before starting any relationships. I could just imagine my grades slipping due to dating and having my mom forget all about the straight A's up to that point and going, your sister is in college and she's getting good grades and not going out on dates! No way was I going to let that little scenario happen. So I swore off both men and women until I was established. Sure wish I hadn't now. But that's jumping ahead again. Next time Diary we'll discuss my first days at Arkham and where that lead. As if you don't already know.