thedifferencebetween

[There's a different kind of light in her eyes, as several things suddenly slot into place. The way it fits.]

Yeah, sure, we can drop it. In just a second. [Harley shifts around until she's fully in Jack's lap, straddling him, her free hand comfortably wrapped around his shoulders.]

You know, everyone makes fun of Freud? They think he was a horny old cocaine addict with some weird fetishes and that's all; but actually, the man made a lot of good points. It's just that it makes people uncomfortable to think about for too long, especially in the context of their own subconscious.

[One finger pokes Jack in his non-metal shoulder, as Harley takes a drag on the cigarette, blowing smoke past him.] So let me just ask you this, Jackie-O. Your Nan. She the one who raised you?

Eh, they were all weirdos, if ya ask me. Wasn't Jung into kooky occult stuff?

[But he's just stalling and avoiding the question. He's not thrilled with how quickly she's honed in on that. He really should have kept it in mind what she'd said she used to do for a living. Some things are things other people don't need to know.]

But yeah, she raised me. If you wanna use 'raise' as a really broad term. It's nothing special, though, everybody where I come from had a shitty childhood. But it obviously didn't hold me back any! I went on to be richer than god and more famous than Elvis, The Beatles, and Boss Nova all rolled into one!

[She has to reach behind her to stub the cigarette out in the ashtray; but Harley's eyes stay on Jack, lit up and thinking. The smile spreads over her face again; and she puts her hands on his cheeks, cradling his face between them.]

Course they didn't, Handsome. Look what you did. Look how much you accomplished. [The submission kink, the specifically professing a liking for bad-ass women who order him around- even the liking it rough. Emotional and verbal abuse at the very least, probably physical thrown in as well.

Freud was almost never wrong.]

Oh they were all freaks. It's just that they had a few good points to throw in there, too. [Her hands go back into his hair, brushing over it.]

Let's just take one more little short-cut; cause I'm stuck on this one, Handsome Boy, and it might be a biggie, you know? You- you didn't kill everyone on that planet with your big scary robots and then strip-mine the rock that was left of all its resources, did you?

[Thank god that's done with. And they're moving on to a much better topic of conversation! Jack settles some, looping his hands around Harley and threading his fingers together at the small of her back.]

Nope. Pandora's still covered in psychos and bandits aside from a couple of pockets. I did build a couple of colonies, a town, some mining facilities, was building an actual city, and made a nature preserve! Or...tried to. I didn't want to ruin the place, I wanted to make it livable.

[He would have wiped out all the bandits, but somebody broke his super laser.]

Don't get me wrong, I was trying to get rid of the cannibals and the bandits. But not citizens! And not the planet itself - what good is another dead hunk of rock? I was colonizing the place!

[This time it's Harley who settles some; her shoulders let go of tension she hadn't noticed she was carrying, and she eases back a little, letting his hands take some of her weight.]

Okay, well- that's good. I mean it's not great; 'colonizing' historically doesn't have super great connotations, at least in my point in humanity's history- but that's workable. [She shifts again, curling to sit sideways in his lap, so she can lean against his chest.

Which just brings blue metal back into her field of vision; Harley wrinkles her nose at it.]

... You know I'm kind of a psycho bandit, right? I mean, I know we touched on this before. Stealing is one of my many fine talents. Back home I once flipped my way through a laser hallway to steal a diamond as big as my fist, among many other excellent capers. Last one I ran before I wound up here found me stealing a kid out of lockup and protecting her from a whole city of thugs because she'd swallowed a damn diamond that was the only key to about three hundred million bucks. And then we saved the day and I stole her and the rock, again, from the actual rightful owners.

[Leaning close, she murmurs into his ear.] And I'm not exactly what we in the business refer to as 'stable.'

It's not like there's any natives I'm colonizing. I'm not taking it away from any actual people! Big difference.

[They're just empty planets, waiting for the taking. Would it make a difference if there was intelligent life? Eh...it would probably depend. But still. It's a distinction Jack likes to make.]

Oh, and really big difference there, babe. See, we call that a treasure hunter where I come from. You use full sentences and wear clothes as clothes, that already puts you miles ahead of bandits. You live in an actual home, you understand what utensils are. Not the same thing at all. I would love to see you flip through lasers and steal a diamond!

[He nuzzles into her at that last admission, chuckling low and with genuine amusement.]

Yeah...I knew you were my type.

All right, you know, that's fair on the colonizing. [Her brow's furrowed thoughtfully again.] So you really do mean it, that these guys went full on feral? But they were like, human beings? Not aliens? That's- that's so weird. Like I've seen people whose higher functions have degenerated that much, but like, as individuals. Not as some kind of systemic issue with the Genpop, that's- that's just weird.

[But Jack is very effective, as far as distractions go. There's an answering giggle, Harley hanging on to his shoulders when her balance shifts, and feet come off the sofa for a moment.] Aw, Handsome. Think you might be my type, too.

[Which is to say, charming, dangerous, narcissistic, competent, and giddy on a - well earned, in fairness - power complex. If he'd been the one who'd wanted to take control, that first hook-up, Harley might've been totally gone. Which is just as well; since gone ain't what she's looking for.]

Which reminds me- I'm, uh- just to be up front about it, I'm not- so much in the market for a relationship, at the moment. I still want to be friends- good ones, the kinds with all kinds of benefits. Just- I'm recently out of a pretty intense long-term relationship, and I'm still kind of sorting through all that, so, I'm not so much looking to attach any strings to anything. I, uh- hope that's cool.

Yeah, there's a lot of factors. One group of'em was just inbred to hell. Like...keeping sister-mom under the floorboards inbred, if ya know what I mean. Plus there's the toxic waste, and I'm not even gonna get started on the weird alien crap left behind by some super beings who yeeted off to another dimension ages ago.

[There's a lot of things that have gone down on Pandora to effect the various tribes living there. And Jack hasn't even gotten into some of the other stuff, the remains of Dahl and Hyperion experiments roaming around.

As Harley goes on, Jack just nods. He'd figured as much, but it's nice to have it confirmed and all out in the open.]

Oh, we're on the same page there, hot stuff. Communication! It's important. I know I glossed over it, but that's cuz talking about your dead girlfriend isn't mood setting chit chat, but I'm not ready to move on in the relationship department myself. I'll still buy ya stuff, though, cuz I like doing that kinda thing. And....I got one request. You have any fun freaky sex with any other hot monsters, I'd love to hear all about it.

[He doesn't get an 'I'm sorry for your loss;' but he does get a sympathetic hum, Harley curling a little closer, letting her hands rest against his choice.]

That's rough stuff, boyo. The roughest. Before we broke up, I spent like two months thinking my Puddin' was dead. You watch a helicopter crash and burn, you don't think anyone's going to walk out of it and come break you out of prison, later.

[She should probably tell him not to buy her anything... she's an Independent Woman now, after all... but hell with it. Who turns down presents? Instead she reaches up to press her fingertip against his nose.]

Suppose I'll have to find something nice for you in return, if you do. And ooh, same! I bet you got some of the kinkiest stories, being here for so long- hey, that reminds me- did you sleep with that white-hair angel boy? Slade Wilson- feathers, halo, couldn't crack a smile if his life depended on it? He said he knew you, but when I asked if you'd hooked up he wouldn't answer.

Yeah, it sucks, but what can ya do?

[Jack shrugs. He's yet to have a wife or girlfriend that didn't die on him. It's how things go, and most of his life in a culture where violence and murder were the norm...it's just a part of making connections with other people. There was a good chance they would die, probably horribly.]

[But it's all about living in the now, and right now he's got a friggin great lady right here. That wants exactly what he wants - no strings, no commitment.]

[He laughs some at her question, though, a little curious about the context of that conversation. But not out of any offense - regardless of a number of hyper-masculine traits, Jack has never been shy about his bisexuality.]

Oh yeah! I've had some real fun freaky sex here! Hell, Lu - my girlfriend - she was a friggin spider chick. Which did freak me out at first, cuz she was...waist up, lady. The rest of her, all spider. Also smashed it with a faerie dude, a flying cat chick, and a snake dude. Oh and a demon that one time. But no, I didn't hook up with Slade, didn't get any vibe off of him that was on the table. We know each other on a professional level, we'll call it. I like him, though! I'd totally pay him lots of money to take care of problems, seems like a dude who's real good at taking care of problems.

[A pause as a thought occurs to him.]

If that was some subtle way of asking me if I'm also into dudes, and therefor down for some group fun, that would be a yes.

[That actually gets a giggle out of her.] Nah; I was just looking for the goss. I'll be honest, Handsome, I kind of just assumed. You don't give off that 'two dudes sitting in a hot tub five feet apart cause No Homo' vibe... Well okay, scratch the hot tub part I guess, but the point is- [She shifts a little against him, just to tease.] You're definitely more of a 'variety is the spice of life' kind of man.

No- I don't get that vibe off him, either. Not sure that man's interested in anyone. But he is good at problem solving, I'll give you that. We're from the same place, sort of knew about each other in- professional circles, you might say.

[She ain't going to out the man as Deathstroke, not when he's clearly trying to keep it on the down low. And because the name wouldn't mean a damn thing to Jack. But-] Between you and me- the man's worth his weight in gold. If you got him handling your problems, they won't be problems for long.

But, more importantly- what the hell is a flying cat chick when she's at home? Was she like- like a sphinx, or something crazy like that? [Harley's wracking her brain for the last time she read a bodice-ripper that had fantasy in it.] Or, what're-they-called- a griffin? I think the griffins are the cat-birds, right? [Her eyes light up.] Did you do it mid-air? Because that would be sick as hell.

[Credit where credit's due- Jack has pretty effectively distracted Harley from looking down at the thing that is definitely not her leg. And she doesn't even have to worry about his legs going to sleep under her.]

Edited (Formatting fail like woah) 2020-09-09 03:25 (UTC)

Humanity's pretty evolved in my time, lotta open minds, lotta people just wanna have fun. Sex is fun, dudes are also hot, dicks are neat, it's all good! Why limit myself? I don't understand living if I'm not having the time of my friggin life whenever I can.

[There's no point otherwise. He doesn't even mind his lack of 'power' here. With enough money, it's basically the same thing. Besides, he's a robot. The majority of this place will do what he says just out of fear of getting eaten.]

I don't actually have any problems for him to take care of, exactly, but yeah, he does some stuff for me. Decent negotiator, too. So you guys come from the same place? I knew he was from the old country, so to speak, we talked about that some - about me being from the future.

[Interesting how out of supposedly infinite worlds, that happened. Multiple people from the same time and world. Like him and Tim and Angel.]

Uh...manticore. Cat body, scorpion tail, wings. And we tried but she was a petite lady, and a petite catwing monster. Couldn't really hold both our weight. But I have had sex in low gravity and that is amazing! Basically like doing it in the air!

Huh...come to think of it...she was a head doc who did crimes, too. Wrote books and shit.

[And had also been 'not what you'd call stable'. Way more obviously than Harley, in Jack's opinion. Apparently he really does have a very specific type.]

That's us; Gotham City represent. You do our kind of business, you tend to learn the Who's Who of who's out and about. [Well, okay; she'd definitely heard of International Assassin and All-Around BAMF Deathstroke. She's pretty sure he'd heard of her. And why wouldn't he? Maybe she's a local girl, but she's still Harley Freakin' Quinn.

But then her eyes light up, all kinds of distracted.] That's so cool! I'm so jelly; the closest I've come to low-g banging is doing it in a pool; which is fun, but it's not really floating, if you know what I mean. [Her teeth catch against her lip, and Harley reaches to trace her fingers of the long of Jack's jaw.] I've never even heard of a manticore. But she sounds hella fun. She still around? She- you know- single?

[She's only half-joking. Some smart hot lady running around with fur and weird parts? Harley'd give it a whirl, at least the once. But for now, her smile softens a bit, brushing her thumb against Jack's mouth.]

... Thanks for coming over, Jackie-O. It's nice to have friends; especially ones as fun as you.

[It's still jarring, turning to see pale white skin and pale blue metal. It still seems wrong. But at least she doesn't want to instinctively crawl away from it anymore.]

Pool sex is nothing like low grav sex! I had this one ex who was really into it....she turned out to be insane and not in the fun compatible way, but she was something else in the bedroom. Had this whole...sexy old timey clown with giant guns thing going on, I know that sounds weird, but it really worked for her. And I mean 'giant guns' in both the euphemistic and literal sense! It's really fun using a combustion gun in low-g to push yourself in the right direction.

[Too bad about the cheating. And the trying to kill him. And the blowing up his awesome, custom built super space laser. But he'd blown up something awesome of hers in retaliation, so it all worked out. More or less.]

And sadly, Hot Catwings is no longer with us, either. But I don't think you'll have any trouble finding fun buddies.

[He can't speak to ladies, he doesn't know how many legally aged women who are into other women are running around. Really just finding a woman old enough it doesn't make him cringe to consider hitting on her is a huge win. But there's plenty of dudes dtf, and most of them seem pretty equal opportunity.]

[But then he chuckles affectionately, shaking his head a little to brush his stiff mouth against her thumb in turn.]

Hey...anytime, dollface! Handsome Jack is here for you! What are friends for?

[Harley pulls away for a moment, just long enough to give him a good look, up and down; even as her thumb lingers, tracing the line of his lower lip.] You had a crazy ex with a sexy old timey clown with big guns shtick? ...Boyo, you got a weirdly specific type, anyone ever tell you that?

[But it's not long before she's snuggled back up. Harley's a touchy-feely kind of girl, what can she say?]

So, what, your record's- [She has to stop and count on her fingers.] ... Five? Different types of- people, here? Six, if you count me? I bet I could beat that. [Her fingers trace the line of blue light, around his face. Did she even want to know what was making the light? And what the hell had he meant, some face stuff?]

You, uh- I mean, since you mentioned it and all- you think you might go out- you know, like, prowling around- sometime soon? Cause- it does sound like a swell time.

[All right, Harley's not exactly modest- but there's a difference between 'rob a bank with me' and 'can I watch you eat someone sometime soon?' Cut her some slack, it's her first time.]

What can I say? I know what I like. And mostly it's terrifying women!

[But it's not like he has more clown-themed gun toting girlfriends in his past. Moxxi has been pretty territorial about her brand - but who isn't?]

Ha, yeah, ya probably could!

[Purely because she hits way more demographics than he does. There's a lot of guys into ladies, and only so many ladies to go around. Plus she's got a wider acceptable age range than he does. He does go even stiller than normal when Harley's fingers move along the seam of his face plate. Old habit from when he was flesh and blood and it wasn't the most fun sensation. Now there's no physical discomfort, at least.]

[And it's nice, just being casually physically affectionate. Jack's always liked that, he's always been a cuddler. People need that connection, even robot people.]

Hmm? Oh, yeah, no, I got a high robot metabolism, I guess, I feed pretty regularly. I could probably get away doing it less, but why the hell should I deprive myself of fuel and energy just cuz some bleeding hearts think every human life is precious? Hell, we could go out tonight. I always like hunting in the fog, feels...I dunno, right. Aesthetically fitting. Plus the whole glow thing is extra freaky when it's coming outta the fog. Then we can have funky robot sex, if you're feeling it.

[He really wants to see what that snazzy new hair of hers can do in the bedroom, and feeding always gets him worked up.]

Terrifying women is one thing. Terrifying women with a thing for greasepaint is practically a fetish. [Not that Harley's done the greasepaint thing in awhile. She hadn't really needed it, after her jaccuzzi night in Ace Chemicals; plus it's murder on the skin.

Her breath catches a little, at the offer; and the ends of her hair start to curl again, shifting restlessly. Fingers glide away from the seam of blue light, when he doesn't nudge up into her hand.] Really? That sounds- [It sounds great, actually. She's already been curious about what he can do- and what's better than death to get the blood going, remind you you're alive?] Sounds like a riot. And I don't got work for a couple more days, so- I'll be there with bells on.

But I'm not a robot. I mean, I got some- you know, I got some issues that need to get worked out. Some pieces that got- replaced- but I don't got these. [She taps his temple, where his wires hide.] I'm mostly just a flesh girl. Not that that'd stop us from having freaky robot sex, just- you know. Figured I should mention.

Hey, come on, one chick with greasepaint isn't a fetish. And it's not like it was the clown thing that did it for me, it was that she was hot and bossy and loved blowing shit up and having wild sex! The important stuff.

[Plus she'd had some good ideas. That Jack himself had used, after they broke up. Hey, all's fair in love and war, and they'd been in both.]

Babe...any sex with me is freaky robot sex. No right now you're what we back home would call 'cybernetically enhanced'! Lots of people had a limb or two replaced with a cybernetic - I gave bonuses to employees who did it! I had one dude who...I dunno, he was obsessed with being a full on cyborg! Hated being made of meat, said it was a weakness. Started losing it after like the fifth cybernetic replacement.

[He goes quiet a minute, mulling some things over. He goes dead still as the two parts of his brain go back and forth over the 'best' course of action here. Because it's not like he didn't have some fancy tech added to him before he ever came to Ryslig. Which...was no secret, back home. It's just that his mask doesn't look like one anymore, it just looks like another piece of his robotic chassis. Which he enjoys! No questions about what's up with his face. But he had already mentioned he'd had something going on in that department. Ah, what the hell? Ladies he regularly sleeps with always ended up finding out about it anyway.]

Hell, I had a prosthetic face that was basically a cybernetic. Long ass story, and yes, this is my face. It looks just like the one I was born with, ghost eyes and everything.

Two chicks with greasepaint, Handsome. [Harley taps his nose, then taps her own.] In my younger days. These days I hardly need it; I get plenty of clown jokes just walking down the street. Or at least I did back in Gotham- here not so much. [Which might be worth considering, now that she thinks about it.

But another time. Now, Handsome Jack is offering up information. About himself. And even if she couldn't have guessed from the content, it's not his favourite thing to share. Harley gives him a long, thoughtful look.]

So that's what fell off? That- does actually make me feel better about losing my own. [Her fingers stroke his cheek instead, not going near the line of light this time.] Limbs I get; how the heck can a face be cybernetic?

[She could ask, about the long ass story. But, if he'd wanted to tell it, he wouldn't have glossed over it, would he?]

Big difference! You're not sporting makeup outta an opera and dressing like the ringmaster of the Victorian porno circus.

[Not even a comparison, in Jack's eyes. And he bets Harley wore it better, anyway.]

[And while the details of what happened to his face are something he loathes talking about...the capabilities and functions of his mask are something he does. It had been the first - and only - thing like it, and he's proud.]

Okay, ya see how my face plate here kinda makes it look like I'm wearing a mask? That's pretty much how it worked. It was a synthetic mask of my own face and it hooked into connectors that were plugged in to my nervous system. You can sort of see still, here and here.

[One hand finally moves, to cover Harley's and direct her fingers to the hinges and latches of his face plate.]

It moved like a face and I could see and everything. Really just...the most advanced piece of medical technology to date, there was nothing even close before I whipped that baby up!

[Or the plans for it, anyway. Other people had made it, under his direction, while he recovered from his near-death experience on Elpis.]

A real thing of beauty - plus it made Handsome Jack Bloody Harvest costumes so friggin easy to make! We sold a lot of those.

All right, well, you've got me there. [Harley's pretty sure that she's never worn anything that would qualify as ringmaster of a Victorian Porno Circus. The Victorian part, at the very least... Although it sounds killer. Maybe she should look into that.

Her fingers stay slow and careful, following his lead, tracing the hinges.] So all the pros of the OG face, none of the messiness of skin grafts. And you got to keep those cheekbones. Got to say, Handsome, you'd make a killing, where I come from. People would be lining up out the door.

[Her fingers edge toward the line of blue light, but don't actually touch.] So is that what's under here? Your r- uh, other face? [He hasn't had a mouth to kiss her with all this time, has he? Like Harleh cares abput scars.]

Edited 2020-09-14 17:04 (UTC)

Look at this face, could you imagine replacing it with anything else? I didn't start out as a lot of things I am now, but I've always been a handsome guy!

[And he's done everything he can to maintain that. Which his wealth and access to cutting edge tech allowed him to do.]

And I probably could've back home, too, but...nah. I made this for me. Besides, it's not like there's a huge market for prosthetic faces - usually you die from the kind of shit you'd need one after. I'm just special.

[He survived. He shouldn't have, everyone who was there agreed. But here he was, still kicking, even after a number more 'you should be dead, dude' experiences.]

But no, there is...nothing remotely human under there anymore, babe! It's all roboware. Lights and wires and a screen display that doesn't display anything useful, nothing exciting.

Sure, people who need one. But what about people who only want one?

[Harley is, by nature, an incredibly nosy person. Comes with the therapist territory, really; you want to know people, learn them, figure them out. But she also knows when not to press. Instead of asking anything else, her touch withdraws even further; fingers stroke over the hinges, skipping the edge if the mask to trace the port that houses his wires.]

Bespoke faces, for everyone who doesn't look the way they want to. A cheaper line of off-the rack looks, maybe inspired by the Handsome man himself, hmm? Where I'm from, a lot of people've paid a lot of money for physical perfection.

[It's not a topic she has a lot of interest in; she's just making conversation, listening to the bits he lets dropped. What happened to the man? Fire? Laser blast? Futuristic alien bug monster?]

And then you wind up here, and you get a real mask. I'm telling you, Handsome; if there is a Fog God- which I'm not holding my breath about- she has a mean sense of humour. She'dve gotten along with my ex.

They can want till the kraggon come home! That's part of the Handsome brand, too. Having what the masses want but don't get.

[He's the top dog, king of the mountain, as close to a living god as Hyperion ever had or will know. And with that came custom, one of a kind everything. Including his fancy replacement face.]

And oh, there's definitely a Fog God. She is an actual living being of some kind, you can talk to her and shit. Lots of ominous vague crap, I guess, but still. I'm not a huge fan, but she did give me my music collection from home so she's done at least one cool thing. Oh, well, no, she also brought my best buddy and my kid here, too, so she did basically give me back my family.

[A pause, as Jack realizes he's yet to actually mention Angel to Harley.]

Bee tee dubs, I have a daughter. Wasn't trying to hide that or anything, I just got used to not telling people about her back home cuz it was safer. No telling who's a corporate spy or an assassin!

[By the end of this mountain of important information, Harley's flopping back into her own seat so she can lean way back, hands up like she's trying to stem the flow.]

Okay, woah; this is a lot. Like a lot a lot. [Her legs cross over his lap, and she leans forward until her knees are against her chest.]

One, what the hell is a kraggon. Two- she's real? Like, a person. Like you can talk to her and she talks back? What the hell is her number?? Because believe you me, I got some things to say to that particular woman.

[It's nice that Jack has people! People and family are important. But Harley's down her own ward- who she does not want showing up here, thank you very much- down her hyena, and down her freaking leg. And there's a real face she can take a baseball bat too?? Why didn't any of those damn pamphlets mention that!]

Three- does your music collection include anything from the American 1980s or 90s, because don't get me wrong, Ella Fitzgerald? The Ink Spots? Total classics. But I miss Madonna almost as much as I miss my boy Bruce, Handsome; if you can play me Vogue or Express yourself, I might legitimately cry.

And four- you got a kid? [Her face brightens into a broad, beaming smile.] Aw, I bet you're the coolest dad! All super hip and wild! Rooms and rooms full of the best fashion- getting her a flying car for her Sweet Sixteen- ripping apart any boyfriends who get too fresh. What's her name? How old is she? You got her picture?

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