[/font][/size][/color]




Full Name: Harleen Francis Quinzel
Code Name: Harley Quinn, Miss Chiff, Harl, Harls, Cupid of Crime, Jane Wisakedjak, Elise Archer, Pumpkin, Pooh, Hayley Fitzpatrick, Slut-Bitch
Age: Pick a number, a woman never reveals her age!
Date of Birth: September 11th
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual.
Species: Human
Alliance: Villian
Citizenship: DC
Canon or Original?: DC Canon





Hair: Harley is naturally a brunette but blondes have all the fun. Her hair has different shades of bright yellows and whites that come down to her mid back. It's full and healthy despite the years of damage Harley has committed. While in uniform her hair is parted in pig tails and hidden inside of her jester's cap though lately she's been hitting the streets with her blonde hair wild. In the comfort of her hideout, the crazed clown will leave it messy or if she's in a euphoric stage it'll be combed and neat.
Eyes: Other than her smile and curves, her bright blue eyes are what people notice first--depending on what parent issues the guy has. Her eyes are the key to telling what mood Harley is in as the expression is either ecstatic or angered. There is never an in between with the dangerous woman.
Height: 5'5
Weight: 113 lb
Distinguishing Marks: None

Appearance: The woman has a unique taste in style that varies from Doctor to malicious criminal. She wears the white jacket when she has to go undercover outside of the Gotham city limits. When she's at home, Harley is normally dressed in shorts and a small top while she dances and tumbles around the hideout. She allows her hair to stay messy, her face paint bleeding, her lack of care only adds to her unbalanced mind. Instead of her usual latex body suit Harley has opted recently to give herself a makeover. She will be often seen wearing a black corset top and a pair of skin tight latex pants with her usual three black diamonds on her upper right thigh. She took a lesson from her friend, Poison Ivy, and decided to wear a pair of high heeled black boots that come right under her knees. She paints her face just like Joker and still wears the thief mask. Her blonde hair isn't covered by the Jester's Cap with this out fit as she will let her hair hang down in her face or place it in messy pig tails.
Outfit Here.

Face Claim: Rachel McAdams





Likes: The Joker, Poison Ivy, Bud & Lou, Large Mallets, Acid Pies to faces, The Joker, Fighting, Ballet, Knives, Bombs, Chaos, Puzzles, Gymnastics, Ice Cream, Card Games.

Dislikes: Fish. Scarecrow-- Dr. Jonathan Crane, Batgirl, Robin, Gordon, Superman, Superheros, The Goody-goodies who can't be bought, those who speak ill of the Joker, those that harm the Joker, Her time wasted, imprisonment, licorice.

Personality: Harley is a walking complex. The woman is troubled by various personality disorders such as dependent personality, anti-social, bi-polar, boderline personality, and some doctors have thrown out at various times dissociative identity disorder though no solid proof has been collected. She was somewhat normal growing up though she was raised in a broken home. She inherited traits of her father as she was able to get what she wanted with just simple twisted words. She manipulates and uses her womanly ways-- she doesn't feel anything. She pushes through everything as her determination is quite strong. If there is something that is incredibly important to the clown, she will stop at nothing to see that the ends to the means are met even if it involves bloodshed.

Over the years the loveable Harley hardened up. She can still be the bubbly blonde who bats her lashes and pokes her chest out but in the core of her, she is a monster. The years spent with Joker has caused her to become more malicious, sadistic, calculating, and cruel. She depends on the Joker, he's her world, so she would be the subject to countless nights of harassment, physically and mentally. It toughened her up. She enjoys the thrill of the kill just as much as her time a lone with the Clown Prince.





Powers:

• Immunity to most toxins and poisons
  
  
• Trained in Psychoanalysis
  
  
• Talented and trained gymnast
  
  
• Excellent martial arts skills
  
  
• Heightened agility and speed

Weapons Large mallet, Bud & Lou, Guns, Explosives, Knives, Anything can be used as a weapon really.


Strengths/Abilities: Intelligent, Gymnastics, Psychology background, Previous inmate and employee of Arkham-- knows how to escape and the ground; Toxin Immunitity, Con-Artist


Weaknesses: Can be killed due to her being human, The Joker, Poison Ivy, Large Mallets-- she has a collection (spending/stealing weakness), Children, Mental state, Compassionate at times






History:

Harleen Francis Quinzel was born to a family that produced what has been said to be the most vile and insane woman Gotham and possibly all of the world has seen today. Her father was a con artist, he was never really around and when he was he was a sleaze. He was the Boston type low level mobster who had more success in not making money than bring home the dough to his family. Her mother, Sharon, was quite pushy with Harley, strict and demanding. Her mother wanted to be the worlds best ballet dancer, she wanted to be on stage in the Nutcracker. Due to a foot injury Mother Quinzel could no longer dance thus she spun out of control for a while, meeting Harley's father in the process. They relocated to Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, New York where Harleen and her brother Barry were born. Her father got involved in the mob scene landed in jail where he remains at the present.

Sharon enrolled her daughter in ballet and gymnastics at an early age and forced her to attend every lesson. The girl felt like the weight of the world was on her shoulders but she couldn't let her mother down. She pushed hard in school, in her classes but it never seemed to get Harleen anywhere with her mother. No matter how many back hand springs or how long she could twirl on her toes mattered, Sharon sucked the childhood and sanity from her little daughter. When she entered junior high that was when the problems started. Sharon would be called a few times a week to handle Harley due to a fight that broke out with a teacher or fellow student. She was picked on due to her lower income status and the fact that she wasn't quite like the rest of the people. She joined the cheerleading team in efforts to win the approval of her student body but it only back fired and caused her to sink further in herself. They picked on her for her wide smile, her toned legs due to years of dance and gymnastics, she had the headgear for a year earlier so the girls saw fit to remind her of it. Her years were hell until she ended up dropping out altogether-- she couldn't quite handle it.

She continued her lessons and received her GED before the end of the year though the disappoint in her mother's tone got to her every time. She begun taking classes at a local college and soon took up a relationship with one of her teachers, psychology in particular. She enjoyed the relationship, she needed him to fill that hole inside of her. It was once his wife found out did Harleen decide it was best to pull out of it only he wasn't as keen on the idea. He begun to stalk his student, he made threats against the woman only to break down sobbing the next minute because she drove him crazy. Harley liked the unhealthy attention-- it was still attention. They ended up moving in with one another and that was when the situation escalated. He felt that she needed to be punished for the way she had acted. He threaten her and come close to putting hands on her in the first month. He would bounce back and forth with Harleen, nice one minute then he would be calling her a dumb cunt the next. She wanted to leave but feared for her life. She stayed with him for the remainder of her years in the college, her body under her clothes covered in bruises. It wasn't until a few months after graduation did Harley commit her first act of murder. Her lover came at her with a large knife and she pulled the trigger of his handgun. She sent a bullet straight into his heart and his body went down to the ground. She stood above him while she watched his body gargle and choke on blood, his lungs desperate for air.

While he was dying in front of her, Harleen felt that hole start to become a little smaller inside. She smiled for the first time in a long time that night. She reported it as self defense, the bruises on her body as well as the voicemails of his threats were enough for Harley to get off clean. Her time in this city was done. After the murder something changed inside of her head. All she could think about was the power she felt after she took his life. She killed a man. She ended his life. Harleen ended a life. Not anyone else, not nature, not old age. She did it. The thought of it caused a shameful sexual side to come out that Harley took care of by herself. She lived in that apartment for another month, the bloodstains on the carpet and floors she left for her to see and relive every day. She would have her coffee in front of it, she'd do her reading, she'd run her toes over the mess without so much as another thought. She sent her resume, her credentials over to Arkham Asylum, an infamous mental prison that held some of the nastiest criminals. She was interested in the job offer as well as getting out of her town. She was ready for a change, something new.

She starts the job and actually enjoyed it for the most part. Dr. Jonathan Crane was a doctor she preferred to stay away from as he was rather creepy. She began a relationship with Guy Kopski which was the first healthy relationship she has had. He made her smile but after the first few months, Harleen was bored. He was too nice. She became uninterested but she kept the relationship up due to his time in Arkham and her interest in moving up on the food chain. She worked with various patients and the Joker for a few times, the Joker obsession not as strong until the night he murder her love interest, Guy Kopski. Harleen believed, now, that he did it because the Joker wanted to be with her. She took it as a jealousy kill and thus she started visiting him more and more. She wasn't sure what it was about her that made someone like him turn his head slightly at her. Perhaps he could feel the madness her brain was teetering on. He began head games with the doctor that ranged from being sickening sweet to just a brush off. It upset her when he wouldn't talk to her, she wanted him to like her. She needed his approval for some unknown, twisted reason. Ultimately she helped him break out of Arkham after an extensive stay and proving that she was loyal to him and him alone.

Harleen dropped her name and took on Harley Quinn. She ditched the remaining brunette streaks in her hair and bleached it all. She wore face paint like her lover but wore a red and black skin tight, latex suit as well as a Jester's cap. The two worked Gotham easily as Joker begun his transformation of Harley. He already had her, he knew that. He had to make her insane. There were countless days the two were held up in a room with a large amount of knives, weapons, each other. When they weren't blowing things up, Joker was making Harley one of his greatest masterpieces. She fought for him, killed for him. She was his soldier and he was her captain. Harley cracked all over and became a psychopath with large mallets. She split from Joker when he attempted to kill her and met up with Poison Ivy. The two ran around Gotham as a sexy duo, Catwoman added to make a threesome. They had their fun but eventually she went back to her Puddin.

It was Joker who caused the change in the world. Now there were more heros than ever, more freaks. She thought it was a bad idea all along and she let Joker know. The man hardly listens to a word she says and now they have to deal with more righteous bastards fighting for the good cause. She holds resentment towards the clown prince and has been a bit more distance to him as of late.






Writing Sample:

No

THIS STORY'S OLD BUT IT GOES ON AND ON UNTIL WE DISAPPEAR
CALM ME AND LET ME TASTE THE SALT YOU BREATHED WHILE YOU WERE UNDERNEATH.

[/color][/font]


I AM THE ONE WHO HAUNTS YOUR DREAMS OF MOUNTAINS SUNK BELOW THE SEA.
I SPOKE THE WORDS BUT NEVER GAVE A THOUGHT TO WHAT THEY ALL COULD MEAN.
[/font]
------------------------------------------------------------------

What was the date? Were the people left on Earth in a new year? The days had lost their value, it didn't matter anymore. Where did anyone have to be? People were dead. People she loved. She didn't presume anyone alive anymore. It was useless to be led on false hope that anyone was left. The ones at the camp were the only ones that were alive and mattered to Buffy. Dawn was dead, she chose to believe. There was such a time that every mission they went out upon in the city, to some new area, that she'd find her. She would shoot an infected in the head and look to see if the body was the former Key to the universe. Her heart would pound, there would be a meaning to the mission. But as time went on the hardened warrior just kept going, sinking further inside herself. There were people around but they were never there. She discovered how they got into this mess but long after it began happening. She met the Angels, the hunters, and everything in between. The vampires that rule the world, she knew of them. Sam and Dean Winchester were at the heat of this whole worldwide event. The vampires she slayed for fifteen years were dumb, they always tired to be menacing but they always met the end of her stake. These... these abominations rose above and conquered the world with the help of others such as demons. It was like Cordelia's wish in the event that people were now a dying breed. She heard the vampires were looking for her. Buffy has entertained the thought of walking straight into the facility and ending it all there. What was the point in living in all of this?


The hardest thing about living in this world is living in it.


Those words spoken so long ago. They ring in her head. They ring in her head in Dawn's voice. The night she was brought back from Heaven at the hands of Willow, Tara, Anya, and Xander, Dawn saved her life. She stood upon the ill-crafted beam reaching far into the sky. It was unsturdy, unsafe. But it was the last place she had been when she was alive. She gravitated towards it as she couldn't remember anything. The bright beams of light hit her mind, her mind stimulated. She knew what she had to do and it was to jump. But a voice called to her through her clouded senses. She knew the voice. It seemed like she had grew up with that voice all around her. Dawn was there before the monks made her a young girl. Buffy. She stopped where she was walking. The voice of her sister seemed so close. She could remember the light octaves at which she spoke. She remembered what her voice sounded like when she was angry. Did she call for her sister when everything started? She could hear the scream of her name as if her sister was actually in front of her. She shut her eyes as a tear slide out and down her cheek.

"Dawnie." Her voice small, low, and broken.

The Slayer of old isn't anywhere in the area. She's been left alone with nothing but time to fuel her anger. The virus brought upon the humans was created by some sort of demon but only truly dispersed by the time the Horsemen came and rode on their steeds and swept the land. Fruits suckled dry, people chewing and chewing away at organs, bits of flesh. The various versions of the Apocalypse and it ends with a mixture of the Judo-Christian and horror movie ending. The Horsemen brought forth famine, pestilence, war, and death. People were getting sick and the vaccines were what the sheeple were taught to make them better. Buffy had always been wary of the government and their tricks, their lies. They have since admitted that they were the ones who killed the late JFK, Marilyn Monroe, and they may have admitted the terrible twin towers incident though the power nationwide went out forever as the subject came to that day in September. The conspiracy theories that plagued the internet held more truth than what the governments of the world preached down the throats of the people. Humans-- creatures of habit. Introduce something small and within half a century everyone would be on board, buying into more of the bullshit. Just two years ago much could have been prevented but everyone was far too concerned with their cell phones and the internet. The world turned into a darker place the moment it was launched. No one tilled their gardens when they could grow it on some social network without the mess.

Not many knew Buffy at the camp. She kept herself away and had no intention of stopping. These people were here out of luck. They had managed by some grant of mercy to keep from being infected. But at this point was it worth it? Was it luck? Buffy had no one, these people are survivors from a family that is now deceased. The pain of having lost someone can be too much to bear. And now without a comforting shoulder to cry on it seemed unbearable. For those people. Buffy had become a hardened warrior. She was possibly the strongest she's ever been physically. She spent her days either on missions or off in a quarter she designed herself. She set to work and turned an empty cabin into a training room. Old clothes were piled into a bag that hung around a target made of wood. There were hand crafted benches and even poles to lift herself thanks to old box spring rods. She had no one so what better way to spend her time than to become better. She wasn't like these people who relied on guns and ammunition. She was the Slayer. She was a bit stronger than most vampires. The demons with black eyes were stronger. She had demon in her... how could she tap into that? She never thought about it before the whole outbreak started but she wish she had.

Buffy walked down the dirt and rock path back into town. A few people waved and she did nothing but tilt her head in acknowledgment. To some of these people Buffy had become a teacher. She would teach a lesson in self defense once every week. It was the one thing she could offer to them. They were still helpless, people didn't fight people anymore. It was either vampires or demons. But it proved her more useful than just muscle. She made her way into a cabin, one used for planning missions. She had no where else to be so she planted herself on a chair and rested her head upon the table. She was alone and now was the time to have a bit of shut eye.




------------------------------------------------------------------




words: 1177
lyrics: "Play Crack The Sky" Brand New
[/color][/center][/color].[/blockquote]





Your name/alias: buffy
Timezone: pacific


Template created by chainedANGEL of CAUTION! 2.0. Please leave the credits intact and do not rip and claim as your own.