thedifferencebetween

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?

[Okay, maybe it was a lot. For Jack, it's just a bunch of general knowledge, but Harley's still new.]

A kraggon is an alien animal that lives on Pandora's moon. And yeah, you can just go outside anywhere and talk to her and she'll talk back. Nothing special needed! Which right there is proof positive she's not a 'god', if she's answering direct questions.

[Gods didn't do that shit, they were too busy running the universe or whatever.]

I do have some Madonna! But a lot of it's later music, from the twenty first century. That...that was the greatest era in music history, just some of the most fan-fucking-tastic artists ever came outta the early twenty first century. They don't make'em like that anymore and it's a crying damn shame!

[And then comes the barrage of questions about Angel. Probably should have been expected but he holds up a hand anyway. Some things he just isn't down to talk about in any detail, not at this point. They just had a whole conversation about how they weren't looking to get serious, and deets on his daughter are for Serious Partners Only.]

She's pretty much an adult, honestly, but...look, I hate to be a buzzkill and shit all over the mood, but there's a lot of sad and uncomfortable stuff in the family department for me. My girl's had it rough, didn't always have an ideal situation, we've had some hard patches - it's tough being a single dad and running the biggest empire in the galaxy! - but she's the most important fucking thing in my life.

And I mean obviously I'm the coolest dad, but...it's nothing personal, we just aren't really at a point where I'm comfortable talking much about my daughter. Like I said, single dad, been a single dad since she was ten, and obviously you are enthusiastic about the fact I've got a kid which is great! Love that. But I still like to keep some boundaries when it comes to new friends and new lovers, and you're both in one. Don't take this the wrong way, you are friggin fantastic and I dig you a metric fuckton, I'm hoping you and me have a long and lasting friendship with benefits. But shit happens and I've learned to prepare in case of said shit.

Oh, and her name's Angel.

Oh. Okay.

[Even her hair seems to slump a little, slipping limp down her back.]

Sorry. Didn't mean to touch a sore spot- I mean, I get it, I got people I don't want to talk about neither. [None of whom where here, which seemed- weird. Unlikely there'd be corporate spies or assassins- or all right, assassins hired to take down the Handsome Fam anyway- wandering around the peninsula.

And really she'd just been trying to compliment him some more, and now things are all awkward. You're the host, Harley girl; find a way to fix it!

There are only a few seconds of uncomfortable silence; and then Harley pulls away, standing and crossing to her desk. She scoops up the hyena figurine in one hand - and scoops up the bottle Jack brought along, because it looked yummy as hell- before returning, settling in her old position cuddled up close with her legs across his lap. The bottle is set on the coffee table for the moment; and she holds up the action figure. Up close, the hyena is wearing a tiny pink collar.]

See this? This is Bruce. He's my bestest boy in the whole world- whole wide multiverse, now, I guess. [Harley turns him over in her hands, one fingertip scritching behind his ears like somehow, wherever he is, he'll be able to feel it.] The asshole who sold him to me had him in this cage that was way too small for one hyena and all of his mess; and then he tried to get me to pay in sex. [Her nose wrinkles, but a grin starts to curl at the corners of her mouth.] So I killed him, chopped him up and fed him to my new boy. Brucie likes to change things up from dog kibbles now and then.

[Harley doesn't have kids to offer stories about in return to hitting too close to home; the closest she can come is Cas, and fair play to Jack, she's like hell telling anyone here about Cas. But Bruce is almost like a kid. She has to feed him and clean up his poop, and that's basically parenthood.]

Hey, it's all cool! We're adults, communicating like adults. We all have the shit it takes built up trust to open up about, at least I'm honest about it.

[He's not pissed off or anything, he's not shy about establishing boundaries. It happens, it's part of existing and interacting with other people.]

[But he shuts up and listens, eyeing the little figure in Harley's hands. Yeah. Yeah he really has a specific type. And it's weird that he's met more than one woman who fits it. Pretty awesome! But highly unlikely.]

Smart move. Sounds like a real lickbag. The dude, obviously, not your dog. Dog sounds cool as hell! Hey, you like cats? I'll take ya to cat town some time - my boss and I made a town for cats. So I do have a town here, it's just full of cats.

[Her eyes light up again, fingers curling around the statue of Bruce. And she could correct him- technically a hyena isn't even a canine- but that would just be pedantic. A literal town for cats is way more interesting. Scooting closer again, she lets her head rest on his shoulder.]

I'd like that, Handsome. I'd like that a whole lot.

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