Zoo Zig

July 24, 2014: (Bullet to the Face Gag, pt.2) The Joker and Harley Quinn have a bounty on their heads. Who would be crazy enough to try and cash in on it, though? (Language and violence warning.)

Abandoned Gotham City Zoo

Rusting and overgrown, this zoo still manages to host all manner of various creatures including some of the city's most dangerous of beasts.



  • Some poor vet guy.

Mood Music:

The zoo could almost be a movie set. Overgrown, rusted, abandoned and forgotten with the cages and environments left to their own devices, it's perfect for a haunting or a creepy animal stalking. Or, in this case, a creepy clown. The Joker is pacing within sight of the main gate as the vetrinarian that he and Harley - cough - appropriated tends to her babies. Back in the Hyena enclosure. Where else? Harley had been getting protective again and the Clown Prince in an uncharacteristic fit of sense, took the opportunity to go through his weaponry and plan their next move. Oh, and kick the peons around a bit. Seriously, the Carnivale needs to get some traction. Perhaps he'll have to recruit some better psychos. There are a couple dozen scattered throughout the ruins of the zoo, though only a hanful of that anywhere nearby and none in sight. No one wants to be near a brooding Joker.

The damp in the air isn't doing his wound any good but, hey! At least the lung isn't collapsed anymore. Honestly, if Deathstroke hadn't killed those Mercs he'd have gone looking for them. And replaced their lungs with balloons. Full of chlorine. Humorless bastards.


It's through those hyenas that Domino finally got a lead, having put feelers out through her contacts with promise of a share (fraction) of the reward. Hyenas to vet, vet to..abandoned zoo. Gotham sure does have its charms. On the upside there's no concern about civilian injury or collateral damage, though she's done some research on these targets. She's not about to take stupid risks. Swift and silent is the name of the game, and while she's got one weapon already configured with tranq darts she's got plenty more fitted with suppressors to deal with everything else. Take no chances.

Slipping inside of the park is easy, the rusted fence has already fallen away enough that she's practically got her pick of entry locations. It's a big place with a light scattering of goons, plenty of hiding spots and her choice on how to deal with the guys. And, let's face it. If these guys are willingly working -for the Joker- then they're beyond saving in her eyes.


(One broken neck, and we're off.)


Up near the gate the Clown Prince checks the cut off SKS that's hanging under his jacket. It's not a military type-check. He's not checking for function or safety. He's just looking at it. Holding it. Considering all of the wonderful punchlines that can be delivered with it. Did we mention Joker's a bit crazy?

Well, he is.

The light is fading, filtering through the trees of the overgrown park now, casting funhouse shadows from the cages and defunct structures, making the place look even more forlorn and haunted than it already does, which takes a bit of doing. The gun goes back down into it's place and Joker flips a buttfly knife out, fiddling with it, feeling the edge.


So many of these goons can be passed outright, though it would be the most embarrassing of situations if Dom gets taken out from a simpleton. She knows her odds, and -dumb things do happen.- Another gets a blade across the throat. Another takes a suppressed bullet to the brainpan. It's all a matter of widening her space cushion, securing as much as she can of one entire section of the park. If she needs an escape route she'd rather not have any unexpected surprises, either.

Oh yeah, she's also keeping an eye out for traps. Like he'd care if one of his own goons blew himself apart one night. That counts as free entertainment, right?

(If only the contract didn't specify a living bonus,) she sourly thinks while closing in on what's become the hyena cage. One sniper shot from hundreds of yards away and she could have walked home happy. But no. Now she has to try and stay downwind of those damn hyenas, out of sight of -everything,- and somehow manage to line up a shot on the J-Man, himself.

Carefully..quietly… Line up the three glowing dots of the pistol's night sights and draw a bead, center body mass. Nothing fancy, one dart should do the trick.


Something has the Joker pensive… or at least… distracted, as he stands in what used to be a small round plaza just inside the entrence to the zoo. There used to go the cotton candy machines. There were the stands selling peanuts. There were the tour guides getting their groups together. It's almost a pity they're not here to murder and torment. The zoo could have been a grand, grand place for an exhibition. Ah well. There's something about the way the light shines off the mirror polished edge to the Joker's butterfly knife. Something… he can't quite place. Hmmmm…


Harley is dressed in leathers today, not usually a good sign for the welfare of those around her. Her leathers are festooned with holsters for both guns and knives and she is currently using one to clean under her nails as she watches the poor vetrinarian they had kidnapped trying to do what he can to save one of her hyenas. The one with the gun shot to his hind leg is fine, sedated in a corner. "You ain't got nothin' ta worry 'bout, Doc. Just so long as you do as good a job with Doodle as you did with Snickers. Now…. if you don't… And one of my babies dies? *THEN* you should worry." She tilts her head to the side and smiles sweetly. "But no pressure!"


(She really named her pets Snickers..and Doodle…)

Domino's head hangs forward briefly with a pained expression crossing her features. (If these guys weren't so violence-happy they wouldn't be taken seriously.) Though this does pose a slight issue. Both of her marks, close and active. She'll have to move fast. Reacquire sight picture, squeeze the trigger, aaand—


The albino dives out from behind the bush she used for cover, half-gloved fingers manually racking the pistol's slide to chamber another dart. She just has to hope that the first dart finds its mark on the Joker, or if not that she can get a second at him -before- Harley and her critters can flank her. Speed and precision, a second chance is not likely to happen here!


Trees, trees, and oh yes, more trees. It's a nice night for a walk, and Garth finds himself heading towards the Zoo at the centre of Robinson Park. He's still not sure why his friend suggested it. Must be some kind of hazing ritual, or a joke that the Atlantean hasn't caught onto yet. But, it serves them right, Garth is actually enjoying it. With all these trees and plants, it's got a bit of a greenhouse effect going on, raising the humidity, and if there's one thing Garth likes, it's humidity in this otherwise temperate climate. He has his hands in his jacket pockets, as there's a bit of a cool breeze, and he wanders through the rusted archway into the zoo, curious what he might find inside.


The Joker is… quite hit. The impact staggers him forward a little as the dart impacts into the meat of his shoulder. "Ow… what…?" He plucks the dart out of himself, looking at it. "Tranquilizers?"

He grins as his eyes track to the movement that he assumes was the source of the dart.

"You know… I had figured that after Deathstroke failed to bring me in they'd send, I dunno, Superman or something." Beat. "But it's just you… whomever you are."

Yes, as often as the Joker uses and is exposed to drugs… well, it's a lot like that one scene from The Princess Bride.

"Harley, dear. We have company." Eying the Merc he hauls back and hurls his knife at the albino mercenary then brings up his SKS and draws a bead.

"Say Cheese!" He cackles. "Specifically… Swiss Cheese."


Harley walks over the vet, giving him that sweet smile of hers. "Remember you only make it out of here alive if they do. Keep up the good work." She sashays her way to Joker's side, pulling out a gun. "Who's the party crasher, Mr. J? Don't look nearly as scary as the last guy. More like a dalmation then a threat. Can I keep her for a pet?"


That..wasn't..supposed to—

(Dammit! Jason knew this would happen. Looks like the sonuvabitch is still peeved that I broke his hand.)

Speaking of hands… There's that momentary flicker of light across a thrown blade, the albino reflexively ducking and swatting at it with an armored forearm. It connects, hurts, and sends the blade tip-first into the wooden siding of an abandoned cart with a *Thnnnng!* Then the shooting starts.

Okay, dart gun's out of the picture. It's promptly swapped out for a pair of 9mm HK sidearms, the merc thrown out onto her side with a tightened jaw as the SKS fire snaps at the air right over her.

"Hold your fire, dammit! I get paid less if you're dead!"

(That's a leg.) The first shot snaps out of Dom's left pistol, skips off of the cracked pavement, then zings along toward Harley's shin. She'd try for a few more but she needs better cover. -Much- better cover. The SKS takes the same bullet that an AK-47 does and she's seen those rounds tear clean through a pickup's engine block first-hand. Right now her strategy revolves around the Simonov's limited ammo capacity. Assuming the Joker's not using one that takes AK mags. That would kinda suck.


Crossing through the front gate and into the park, Garth witnesses a confrontation of some kind taking place. He's not too sure who the girls are, evidentially not paying that close attention to the news, but the clown looks like the Joker. And in this place, abandoned zoo, sounds like he's probably the real thing. What are the odds that a party clown would be out in the middle of an abandoned, run down zoo, and in the middle of some kind of a fight with an albino? And besides, they have guns and knives. Garth begins to move his left hand, working his fingers, weaving and crafting a spell. A reddish glow emenates from his hand, and a beam of light fires towards one of the guns, trying to heat it up so that it won't fire, and the wielder will want to drop it. He doesn't introduce himself or say anything, he just tries to stop the fighting.


It's the SKS. The Joker is using 30 round magazines but… OW! That's hot. He reaches into his pocket and comes out with a handfull… jacks? Then they're in the air, hurling toward Domino and letting out little crack-crack-crack noises as they explode and leave divots in whatever they impact. He's moving too, headed for cover as he produces a MAC-10 from his jacket and glares at the newcomer.

"What is is? Bring your freakish friend to work day?"


Harley isn't even waiting for the fight to start. Nope. She springs up into the air, flipping around and then landing on one of the zoos cages. The bullet, meant for her hits the wall that was behind her. "Oooooh! Looks like she wants to play." She pulls out a second gun, and starts peppering the air around the albino with bullets. Not so much with the aimed shots, Harley is all about the lots of lead in the air style of gunfire.

She lets out a girlish giggle as the jacks explode and bounces. "Ohhh! Is it party favour time already?" On top of the cage, the clown girl in leather backflips to the edge and then dives off the end. She smiles up at the vet that is trying desperately not to panic with all the bullets flying. "Remember what I told ya. Doodle better make it. Now *GET BACK TO WORK*!" She rolls over to the table with the knife in it, grabbing a satchel under it. Pulling out a grenade, she bounces it in her palm and wonders who should get the pineapple sundae.


Ow ow ow..! Tiny explosives, plenty of shrapnel, oh and lots of indirect fire, armor can stop a lot of it but there's still small and hot metal fragments which pepper Domino's face if she doesn't bother to duck and cover. There's also a grunt as one of Harley's shots nicks her side, not getting through but still acting like a very sharp punch.

As for this newcomer she's got -no- idea who the hell he is, but she can still lie about it. "You're out-manned and under-gunned, Clowns! How about doing us all a favor and shooting at each other for a while, instead!"

Screw it. It's only another two hundred grand, right? That's worth it to be known amongst the underground as the bitch that managed to take out the Joker and his twisted lady pal. The timing couldn't be any better, either! For whatever reason Joker just dropped his primary weapon back there. MAC-10's go up to a .45, she can work with that. Time to fight crazy with crazy.

She sprints right for the Joker.

Her luck bending trick works better when she's throwing herself straight into a life or death situation. She can see the two Insane Gotham Baddies. Run, dodge, return fire. Emphasis on all of the above.

Hopefully the weird newcomer won't decide to attack her from behind. Or a hyena. Or a goon. Or…


"Freakish friend?" repeats Garth, "I don't even know that girl, but I have heard about you, Joker. Who's the misses?" Looks like the happy couple needs to talk to their publicist. She's not getting enough press. Do they even have a publicist? Sounds like time to get one.

Garth pauses, focusing his energies. A nearby water fountain is still hooked up to the reservoir, and he uses it, pumping the water past the valve, the directed pressure blowing through and out of the faucet, coming out as… steam, a fog really, that slowly, but surely expands, enveloping the scene, making it hard for anyone to see through the white haze. But will this favour the home team, or the visitors?


Harley is about to throw the grenade at Dominio but then the guy with the big mouth just had to go and ask who she was. She is she? Who is she? She pops the pin and throws it with all the strength she can muster, which is rather considerable, directly at … that big wall of steam? Sure! Why not. Explosions are explosions. The hyena that is not being operated on looks up, but is too sedated to care, flopping it's head back down on its paws.


Well, the Joker was gonna shoot… one of them. He hadn't decided who yet. Hell though, he hasn't gotten properly stuck in in a good long while. Flick, clack. Another butterfly knife finds it's way into Joker's fist and his MAC-10 just became a steel club. Now… where is that wonderful little girl? Maybe he will/ let Harley try to make a pet of her.

"Not bad fog, Rain-man, but try for something more interesting next time. Poison fog, maybe?"


"Way to be a team player there, kiddo." Now everyone else knows that Domino and Garth aren't on the same team. There's another problem, though. Steam..? -Mist.- This is Clown territory, and she's charging right for them. The first thought through her mind is that something just triggered a hidden poison gas charge. Not..good..! Don't breathe the vapor, girl!

Oh. Wait. That isn't poison fog, after all. (Aaand now I can't see -shit.- Thanks, doofus.) Then again..neither can they.

A little more good fortune comes her way from these two villain sorts, they -do- love to chat. She doesn't need to see them to have an idea of where they are. Her sprint comes to an end, though not because she chooses to so much as that she trips over a hole, which just happens to put her outside of the lethal zone for that grenade which lands somewhere off to her side.

(1 in 86,213.)

It's only after the grenade detonates that she pulls herself into a crouch, both of her pistols drawing upward and aiming in two completely different directions as she mentally attempts to zero in on both the Joker and Harley. Where they -had- been a moment ago, at least. Right now her ears are kind of ringing. Sixteen rounds lie in wait within the first pistol, fifteen left in the other.

Mag dump!


The fog continues to build, growing, until it has enveloped the three of them. And then, as if by purpose or design, it begins to dwindle, contract, focusing in on the sounds of the clown and the clownette. Garth is waving his hands about, making gestures with his fingers. Most Idyllist magic is performed by hand gestures. The explosion dissipates some of the fog, but its quickly replaced by more fog. Once Garth is satisfied that he's created bubbles of fog centred on Joker and Harley, the water that comes out of the faucet fires a stream into the air, and, oh god, that's annoying, not deadly, but really annoying. It seems he's peppering the clowns with hailstones. "Never saw Rain Man, but I've got it on my Netflix account. Planning on seeing right after Jack Frost."


Ack! Even if the Joker weren't making any sounds, and he is, the clatter-thump of hail hitting both him and the pavement makes a lot. That gets him moving again and a burst of gunfire rings out in the direction of Garth's voice. "Rainin' on our parade now are ya? You're not, like, a wet blanket version of Batsy? 'Cause man, that guy needs to grow a sense of humor."

Beat. "Where are you, little girl. If you like tranqs I've got afew things that'll blow your mind."


The problem with Harley is she doesn't sit still! The fog makes her grumble, making her pause between flips to double check she's not about to run into a pole or wall. She has another grenade in her hand and sees a form in the mist. But is that Rain Man or her Puddin'. "Marco!" she calls out, wondering if anyone will actually take her up on her call. Oooh! There's a voice that isn't Joker. She throws this second genade, with the Joker's distinctive smile painted on it, at Garth's voice. The hailstones fall on top of her, and though they don't actually damage her, she grumbles about it. "Great, now I look like a drowned cat."




Once more Domino leaps for cover, this time because she conveniently emptied both of her pistols before the -next- grenade has a chance to rip her face off. "I'm really more for taking shots in large quantities," she calls back as the spent mags clatter to either side of her. "But if you're offering high explosives I could always use more!"


"You're right though, he does need to lighten the hell up." Batman, that is. Mook-! *Blam!* Random Thug #91 drops like so much dead weight, the albino spinning the pistol around once on a hooked trigger finger. (Gees, at this rate it might be more lucrative to bargain with these two and change my sights to Batman, himself.)

"Wanna know the odds of us completely trashing this joint before we kill one another?" she calls out while twisting an arm back around the corner to blindly fire back at the two Clowns.


Garth isn't too worried about getting shot, but it does make it hard to maintain his concentration. With the grenade coming his way, he rolls to dodge, and the fog dissipates fading into nothingness. But the hail continues to pepper the clowns, not missing a beat. Those little beats of ice aren't enough to do much damage, but they do sting. He moves about, zigging and zagging, looking for cover to avoid the fire. He finds it behind one of the zoo's structures, some kind of bamboo hut. There, he raises his left hand, performing some more physical incantations. The hailstones have created a small shelf of ice on the pavement, making it slippery. But before that can pose too much of a problem, Garth begins to melt it, superheating it, and the pavement beneath. He turns some of it into molten tar, enough to give someone a serious hotfoot, break a heel, or melt some shoes. Hopefully he won't throw the babe, Domino, out with the bathwater.


"NEVER TELL ME THE ODDS!!" Joker yells with his best Harrison Ford impersonation… the cackle kind of spoils it though. As the fog clears and he sees Domino, he sets his knife and charges… only to be gummed up by molten asphalt. "Okay… seriously. You need to DIE. One of you. Don't care which. Draw straws."


The fog starts to ebb and Harley smiles. Time to kick some serious butt. She starts flipping towards Domino but is thrown off course. Laying on her side, she looks down at her waist. "You shot me! You're not supposed to use lethal force! That's what the BAD GUYS do!" She pulls another gun from one of the many holsters on her. "Here! Let me show ya!" She gets to her feet, starting to fill the air again as she aims (sorta) at Domino, when her feet get stuck into the pavement. "You have got to be kiddin' me!"


"The hell makes you think I'm one of the -good- guys?!" Dom yells back, ducking further behind the corner as more rounds pepper the (now very shot up) building.

Apparently melting the ground is how one makes for a stuck supervillain or two. With the Clowns now playing in the tar she emerges from her spot of cover (hopefully Harley's out of ammo…) with a smirk twisting those jet black lips as she takes up a proper stance and draws one of the nine millimeter pistols up toward Clown Prime's face. "Still a complete sucker bet that you're a freak and a half, Chuckles."

This is the moment where she gets to experience that 'hot gun' trick that Garth had already used on the Joker. While her armor soaks up most of the temperature spike her gloves are still without ends to the fingers, which is somewhat critical for holding and firing a gun. Before she can take the shot she flinches and sucks in a quick breath, awkwardly hanging onto the one sidearm in a way that won't burn exposed skin.

"Congrats, you now owe me three hundred grand for that," she reviles toward the peculiar man responsible.

Before the gun can melt her hand, before the ground can melt her -feet,- before Harley can drop another grenade on top of her head… Dom's getting the hell out of here.


The Joker's talking about killing someone, Domino's actually trying to execute him. This can't be good. Garth does what comes natural, he tries to split them up and sort them out one at a time. His waves his hands, freezing the knife in the Joker's hand, making it so cold that he'll feel it through his gloves. He heats Domino's gun, forcing her to reconsider. "He's scum, but that doesn't mean you can just kill him," Garth intones in a surprisingly authoritative voice after Domino demands he pay for the gun he just ruined. As she begins to flee, he calls out, "Send me the bill. Name's Tempest, High Councillor of Atlantis." Hopefully she doesn't send him the bill. That'd be awkward to explain to the treasurer. "Now, Joker, and sorry, I didn't catch your name… ?" referring to Harley, "if you'll come along quietly, I'm sure they have a nice suite picked out for you at Arkham."


Joker has finally got himself unstuck. "I like it there. It's nice. It's cozy. And they always make my bed just right. But for now, Rain-Man." The Joker drops his weapon and pulls a few smoke grenades. And a couple tear gas ones as well. These he 'distrbutes, in Garth's direction. "Unfortunately, I have a show to manage! Later Rain-Man. Give your fellow wet blanket my best!"


Harley looks to the guy who just referred to himself as Tempest and tosses a shrapnel grenade into the mix. She escapes into the smoke that the Joker provides, following his lead. "And the name is Harley Quinn, you goon! And you! Vet boy! Fix my babies!"


Garth didn't count on them fighting back to this degree. He should have, but somehow, he thought they'd come along quietly. Ah, but he is an optimist, an idealist even. Garth coughs as the smoke fills his lungs. When on the surface, he has to breathe through them, and he's just as succeptible to breathing problems as any other being native to this planet.

And if that weren't enough, Harley gets in on the act, tossing a shrapnel grenade into the smoke. It doesn't do him any harm, but it does distract him further. Coughing, he first backs away from the cloud, and uses the water from the fountain to clear it away to discover… they're not here. Where did they go?

He searches high and he searches low, trying to find tracks. There should be something, they were standing on molten ashphalt, but the tracks lead into a tent, and then seem to disappear. There's the smell of a hyena, some medical supplies, but no vet. "Where the kraken did they go?" So he tries to focus on the water in their bodies, but he still can't find them.

Looking around, crouches to pick up few hyena hairs, probably from when one was operated on. "Nightwing always said they were tougher than they looked. Until next time…" He drops the hairs, and begins walking back towards the front gates, though not before he takes off his jacket, shrapnel filled, and tosses it in one of the garbage bins near the entrance.

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