2007-01-17 (PreU) Of Shadows and Villainy

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Of Shadows and Villainy

Summary: A strange new location has opened up in the city ruins of Twisted; a seemingly ordinary, if breathtakingly large, museum that holds deeper secrets than the eye can tell at first glance. Such a place attracts scholars in search of knowledge and understanding, aesthetes in search of the finer pleasures, and even costumed supervillains looking to wreak havoc and steal their personal effects. Among, of course, the ordinary citizens just out to see the sights. It only adds fuel to the fire that one of these happens to be a man given the dubious honour of being a Guyver... all hell is breaking loose.

Who: David Akenda, Harley Quinn, joker
When: January 17th, 2009
Where: Location or Room Name.

Harley Quinn-icon.gifJoker-icon.gif

The information contained within this log is to be considered information gained Out of Character (OOC).
This information may not be used as In Character (IC) knowledge or in roleplay unless it has been learned in-game or permission has been granted by the parties involved.

Questions should be directed to staff.

The Museum - Costumes & Clothing Wing
An entire wing of the Museum's sprawling interior has been dedicated to the changing face of fashion throughout space and time. A winding staircase leads to the heart of this department, which is predominantly windowless - lit only by the occasional candelabra set between glass cases bearing the exhibits. The tone is sedately royal, though also somewhat brooding; each row of cases is set in a high vaulted chamber linked by an archway on three or four sides to another identical room.

Identical, that is, apart from the exhibits themselves. Set over four floors coming off the central stair on two sides, the costumes are sorted arbitrarily by genre. Though this does little to guide a visitor about the maze, as fantastical categories such as ANCIENT HEROES and EVIL GENIUSES might well be found alongside the more mundane, SUPERMODELS and SCIENTISTS, or even TYPICAL FAMILIES THROUGH THE AGES. But all are helpfully marked in bold print, on signs suspended above the cases from long wires.

Most impressive is how authentic everything looks. Each case is lit from within to highlight each garment, each jewelled accessory, to eye-catching perfection, and not a single stitch appears out of place. There is a reason for this. Like much of the Museum's stock, every thread of clothing displayed in this wing is the genuine article, pilfered from dimensional travellers under circumstances that tend to be mysterious at best. Perhaps some pieces have even been snatched from the annals of history by skilled and powerful treasure hunters. The administration are understandably vague about the details - it is, after all, perfectly possible for an illustrious visitor to see their own distinct wardrobe proudly displayed upon a faceless mannequin...

It's a bright and sunny day in the ruins off Twisted Street!
Well, perhaps 'bright' and 'sunny' are terms that rather overstate the fact that this is about as pleasant as days get in the chaotic world-between-worlds. But the rate of accidental death seems relatively low, no explosions rattle the foundations of already damaged buildings, meaning that on the whole? Things could be a great deal worse. As though to celebrate this fact, the at once newly-arrived and impossibly-ancient Museum of Trans-Dimensional Artefacts has a huge banner slung above it's pillared facade...
'TODAY ONLY! COSTUMED SUPERHEROES OF EARTH EXHIBIT --- GENUINE COSTUMES --- FROM SUPERMAN TO THE TICK AND EVERY VILLAIN BETWEEN!' It's all painfully gaudy, ill fitting for such a remarkable and stately building as the Museum. But people are slowly dribbling in, some even coming dressed as their favourite heroes and villains; aptly proving that even Twisted has it's fair share of uber-nerds. Though it must be said that one or two of the outfits displayed among the 'crowd', such as it is, are almost too convincing. Could this less than spectacular event be attracting more than just displaced comic book fans?

One amongst the crowd for sure is more than just a common nerd as Harley Quinn, in her usual attire, comes drifting into the crowd just to see what the point of it all is. Her eyes widen at the banner over the doorways. "Ooooooooh, Mistah J." Eyeing the people carefully as she makes it inside, the clown gets as close to the exhibit as she can before pulling the fire alarm. Smiling like the cat that caught the cannairy she watches the crowd scatter as the sprinklers kick on. Just enough time for her to drag a bench over to block the doorway after closing it and then a short slide over to...
Glass falls to pieces upon the floor as Harley cracks open one specific display case with the blunt end of her gun. Seconds later she's hugging and twirling around with the pilfered costume of a certain 'Clown Prince of Crime'. "It even still smells like 'em!" Creepy?
Maybe... but what about her isn't?

Naturally, today's exhibition is a large one. Two of the four floors in this department have been given over to accomodate HEROES and VILLAINS respectively. Each floor is separated from the central stairwell by a thick, oaken door not easily removed from its hinges - Harley bars what is quite the formidable barrier to an ordinary human, even without the locks and deadlocks designed to keep them more permanently in place. As panicked citizens make their exit, scattering down the stairs in a deafening rain of clattering thumps, leaving odds and ends of their flamboyant costumes behind, several of the Museum's guards are already on their way up, shoving through with loud yells of their own.
But each floor is copiously large in itself, and several men remain behind in an attempt to thwart the attempted Grand Theft Attire. Candles begin to sputter and die before the onslaught of the sprinklers, leaving darkened patches between the individually lit display cases. Two crisply uniformed guards manage to make their way through the chaos, toward the marauding harlequin, closing the distance as she seizes her prize.
"Lady!" One cries, reaching for the extendable rod at his belt, "We're only going to ask you once! Put down the costume and move toward the exit!"
Another candelabra breathes its last gout of flame with a hiss.
"You know, Bob, perhaps we should-"
"One chance, lady! Come with us!"
Meanwhile, several rooms away, one seemingly ordinary citizen staggers up against a case bearing the red, heavily bladed costume of Kai, the Hellhound, breathing hard as she scans the immediate area with intelligent green eyes. "And here I thought I hadn't done anything wrong yet," the woman mutters, tensing as something shifts in the nearby shadows at the precise moment that the shattering of glass reaches her ears. She curses, pushing off the case and moving with quick, graceful steps toward the next antechamber.

Harley glares an angry glare strong enough to kill someone weak of heart. "NO! NO NO NO NO! They told me there ain't no cops in this town! That's not fair!!" Pulling the jacket off the manequin, this harlequin throw it on as she draws her gun and aims it guards as they near. "GIT BACK! I NEEEEEEEED this! It's mah puddin's!" She pulls the safety off, which still fails to make the cork gun look menacing. "So back off, chumps before I have ta make ya!" If anyone else is here, she's too distracted to notice. How.... how DARE they...? "Heroes an' Villains exhibits shouldn't have rent-a-cops.. That's jus' tacky." The girl rolls her eyes as she thinks a second, "Then again, if ya'd shown up in tights ya da got shot already... well? Why should I do anything diffrent?" There's a soft click as she begins to pull the trigger...

The exhibit had caught the eye of a relative new comer to Twisted and David Akenda had joined into the Festivities. How ever he has not come as a true super hero, well not really a hero to most. David has come dressed up as Sherlock Holmes of all things, perhaps one of the greatest literacy detectives of all time. David had enjoyed Holmes for a long time. How he got hold of this outfit is a secret only he knows. He had just been looking over something very odd to him. Genuine imitation Bio-Boosted Armor suits. A teal one, purple, and a few others as he heard the glass and his natural curiosity is peaked as he makes his way over to the sound and commotion and shouting to watch what has happened.

*SQUEEK! SQUEEK!* The high pitched noise echoes out loudly throughout the museum as the shadows seem to move and create illusions. A rubber duck bath toy suddenly comes rolling into the room on a rollerskate, squeeking loudly once more. A few painstacking moments pass until a silhouette of two white eyes, with beady red iris' come into view. "Hehehehehehehehehehehe..." A soft chuckle suddenly starts to come from the shadowy figure, as the duck suddenly starts to spray out a thick purple gas.

"Now, l-lady," the weaker-willed of the two guards begins to reply to the incensed Harley, taking a step in front of his apparent superior as the man pulls his weapon and raises it with a sneer, "We're not cops, we're j-j-just security! We all got homes to be going to, 'least what passes for homes in this place..." He drifts off, tone rambling, then swallows tightly as he focuses upon the gun about to explode in his face. "...please?"
Behind him, Bob starts forward, a thick, hairy arm lifting to shove his colleague aside. He makes it a single step before a wisp of purple gas wafts into his flared nostrils. The speed with which he collapses in a barrage of chesty guffaws may well beat the pull of the trigger, but surely somebody else should have stopped it by now. Whatever happened to all the heroes?
"You must be joking," the approaching woman hisses as she watches the scene unfold from behind Harley, the next duo of realisations coming with the click of the gun and the explosion of laughter from the guard. Her eyes widen, dextrous fingers dip into her shirt pocket to bring a handkerchief to her painted lips, and then she's moving in a blur of motion. Astonishingly fast, she covers the distance to the wild harlequin but then seems to stumble into the picture, legs and free arm flailing wildly as she CRASHES into Ms. Quinn with a very feminine yelp of alarm - set to take them both rolling into the darkness away from the display case.
Hopefully, with the coming gunshot going well wide of the innocent security guards...

(Holmes) will notice the Jokerette there and as the gas filters into the place and some gets blasted right into the face of Holmes covering him. He starts to cough and hack as the toxin fills his body making him collapse to the ground. A number of laughs, pained laughs starts to escape David's voice as he realizes he's got some sort of Toxin running through his system. His mind scrambles up to gather the will and strength to call his weapon.
Finally sounding like a scream of a wild animal maybe a cross between the lion and Hyena one word will be heard, "GUYVER!" And there will be a large burst of light and sound.
This pushes the gas back as what for a fraction of a second was a man in a plaid trenchcoat standing there will be a fully armored emerald green armor with glowing sapphire eyes the ring of light flashes at the top of his head and the steam that issues from mouth sides is tinged blood red as the guyver helps purge his system of the Joker Toxin. He just stands there staring at Harely flexing his clawed hands. And after a few moments he starts to walk after her..."You have a lot to answer for Missy." he says in that electronic toned voice...

Harley doesn't shoot. Even though she doesn't see the smoke, she sees the guard fall over as that familar scent flows into her nostrals. Of course she does assumes the obvious thing and sniffs the coat. "Awww. Mistah J's coat smells just like Jokah gas!!" She swoons. "It's like he's right here with me! I-I can almost hear his beautiful laughtah now..." She's smart, yes. Smart but dense. "Listen you guys... if ya wants ta see yer homes again..." She blinks. Wait, the struggling man is finally registering. "W-wait, what's goin' on?" The harlequin stands confused, very confused, and lets her gun drop a moment. Hopefully the woman behind her doesn't try to play hero.
The clown sulks as someone else does, however. Well, this must he his fault then! She raises her gun again and aims it at the newcomer. "Look Mr Powah Rangah, I don't havta listen ta you 'er anyone else! I know about you supers! Ain't got nothin' against a few pounds of explosives does it?" This time she fires... a shame she STILL hasn't tried to investigate the smoke, huh?

The soft chuckle suddenly starts to grow louder in volume, and more hysterical. Two hyenas slowly creep out from the shadows, circling around Harley and the mystery woman, drool dripping from their open maws as they start to gnash their teeth wildly. The tip of a pointed white nose slowly starts to come in view from beneath the silhouetted eyes, as the source of the maniacal laughter starts to become more and more apparent.

"What's going on h--" The still-standing guard hesitates, his lip quivering as he registers first his pal hitting the deck and then the man of metal exploding into action. "H--" He starts to shake harder, chest practically rattling as the stress of the situation threatens to buckle his resolve completely, as licks of purple smoke work their way into his frail human sinuses. It's the last detail that does it. "H--- HAHAHAHAHAHAAA!! OHGOD!"
He smashes into the floor knees first, then collapses onto his side, arms cradling his stomach as he joins his partner in raucous laughter, tears streaming down his cheeks. Left clowning around as the situation flies so far beyond his control it's.. well, hilarious...
A short distance from Harley, the interloping bystander hauls herself off the floor from her apparently uncontrolled landing, rising to her knees in the shadows. She keeps her hand pressed to her mouth as the other scrabbles for something in the small bag slung over her shoulder. A cautious and surprisingly calm gaze takes in the circling hyenas, as she busies herself flicking out the strap of a small gas mask, quickly making the switch with the flimsy handkerchief before she rises unsteadily to her feet. Wide eyes go to the Guyver, imploring him to make some sense of the situation as she paces backward, keeping sharp ears upon the Joker's pets; stopping her movements before she comes within snapping range.
Dressed in jeans and a checked shirt tied off at the waist, short dark hair cropped above the ears, despite the handy mask she really does appear no more than an innocent trapped in the madness. No doubt... whoever she is, she's a consummate actress.

The Guyver stands there as the Gun is raised and the words Explosives do catch him by surprise as he moves to try and avoid the shot. Harely will be faster as the first bullet slams into his armored chest and explodes followed by the others knocking the guyver to the ground as he rolls backwards holding his smoking chest. and his eyes glow brightly as the Figure stands up and for the moment he doesn't want to kill the Girl, mind you he'll not hesitate to try if he gets his hand forced to.
David wants to take that Gun away from the little girl so he charges up his head laser and and then fires off a small shot attempting to hit the gun in the barrel as the green laser shot fires off. Sadly it's no where near as fast as the speed of light. So Harley has a chance to avoid having her gun blown up in her hand or at leash reandered non functional.

When the clone comes out from the smoke he turns his attention to the walking rodeo and as he starts to walk and approach Harley once more, "Well toots, guess what, this supah ain't got no morals against killing if his hand is forced to kill. I guess it's why I could be called a 'Dark Hero.' OF sorts." He stops short when he realizes he suddenly has many enemies here and there with the Thief and hyena's joining Harley he stops when the clown comes into full view, "Who the hell are you?" And he watches the Hyena circle Harely and the girl with the mask. His features a unmoving but note's the Girl's concern but ius unable to relay any sort of look to her to try and reassure her.

Harley's gun fires it's explosive cork and a mischivous smile crosses her face as it hits the target and explodes. Shes about to comment again when her gun is blown apart forcing her to flail backwards into... *YELP* "LOU!!!" She spins around to look at the other less-Harley-impacted Hyena which she imediately tackles and hugs. "BUD!!! MY BABIES!!!" The two stop their pace and begin to lick her in the face, or so it's assumed. She's the one who cared for them after all. This is when she glances up and notices the girl that's been trying to get her attention in various ways as she pranced about dealing with the guards. We mentioned she can be dense, right? "Did you bring me my babies? 'Cause if this's yer doin' I guess I owe ya one!" Yes, she still hasn't noticed Joker or paid any attention at all to the Guyver's speach. Which is sad because if she had, she'd have noticed the other. Oh well...

The laughter grows loud enough, to almost be considered screaming at the top of ones lungs, as the silhouetted eyes fade into the shadows, and the tip of bleach white nose suddenly goes upwards. "Who am I?" A wide brimmed purple hat suddenly comes into view, followed by a long purple trenchcoat, with a matching purple suit underneath. "My dear boy... You don't know who I am? I did more damage to the Man of Steel, then Lex Luthor has ever managed! I was so close to killing him.. If only The Bat hadn't stepped in..." The brim of the hat blocks the view of the mans face, as he continues forward, causing the hyenas to quickly look towards him, before returning to mauling Harley with affection.
The Joker says, "But, alas.. I am the crown prince of mayhem.. The greatest criminal mastermind that ever existed in any world, especially one as pathetic as this.."

Far from attempting to gain anybody's attention, the mysterious dark-haired woman has been praying for an opportunity to go away. Why, precisely, she felt a need to fling herself at the rogue harlequin just before the self-proclaimed hero decided to intervene himself is just one more drop to the mystery that seems to go entirely unnoticed. As the hyenas break from their circling to have a reunion with their disturbed mistress, the gasmasked bystander takes one further step away, then another, and finally springs into the cloaking shadows between rooms. If anyone /had/ been watching her, her disappearance might just seem a little too easy... a little too practiced... But she gets lucky. As she moves, something else happens.
Or rather, ceases to happen.
The sprinklers have long been shut off, all candle flame extinguished, their purpose served. To those absorbed in their face-off, the sound of banging may have gone as unnoticed as the shadowy lady, prevalent since several guards reached the top of the stairs. Now it fades from view as, outside the door barred by the sometimes quick-witted Harley, footsteps begin to retreat downstairs as rapidly as they came. The bad news? In about two minutes, the lights in that intermittent forest of display cases are going to start flicking off one at a time, plunging the windowless rooms into deep, dangerous darkness.

The Guyver looks at the man in the Fedora and says, "No Clue who the hell you are, nor do I care." he says in an electric monotone and he did notice the figure slinking off into the shadows but for the moment the Guyver has his hands full. He's not sure why but something deep down tells him these two are as dangerous as any Zoanoid. Perhaps more so given the fact and state of their dress the Guyver once more starts to approach the pair as he says.
"You both have a choice here, surrender and let your selves be arrested Or I can beat you two to within an inch of your lives and let the police clean up the mess."
David is a no non-sense type. His last year was spent constantly on the run for his life and freedom. Attempting to stay ahead of Chronos, hard to do when you are alone, not money and fighting a international super corperation by your self in America. Unlike Sho in Japan David had no allies to turn to.
For the moment As the lights go out they are no hinderance what so ever to the guyver as he explains. "Your darkness doesn't hide you. I can see you as clearly as if you were in broad daylight waving a tin foil sign shouting out "Here I am." and David moves step by step ready for when these two launch their attacks. Sadly his Control metal and his eyes which glow will also give his position away in the dark."

Harley's go wide as she FINALLY notices by way of SEEING HIM STANDING THERE AND TALKING IN FRONT OF HER the reason she turned to a life of crime, her reason for being. She takes in all he says with stars in her eyes before pouncing up off the floor and bolting towards him...aaaaand the lights go out. David will very quickly find his arms and legs restrained by unseen arms and legs as he's unexpectantly pounced from behind with a death grip from a certain hyperactive harlequin. Well, it's dark. "MISTAH J! I KNEW YOU'D COME FER ME!!! I'VE WAITED SO LONG! I don't even CARE ya tried ta kill me last time!" A pause. "...or the time before that." Pause. "...or the time before tha-HEY!" Assuming David hasn't thrown her off she starts pounding on him violently. "You got somethin' against me now?!" A second later she clings to him again. "Aaaaah, I can't stay mad at'cha sugah." Pause. "...why 're you so cold?" ...

A shrill laugh suddenly comes from Joker as he watches Harley pounce onto David. He quickly moves to grab the Guyver's left hand, trying to grip it tightly. "Well, I see that I've already been replaced, but no hard feelings and all that. I hope you two have the sparks that keep on coming!" Which of course, that's when it hits. All One-Hundred-Fifty-Thousand volts of it. The patentend Joker Joybuzzer. He then turns, and grins at an unseen audience. "Coming soon to a fine retailer near you! They're a real shocker!!"

Whilst everybody gets cosy in the pitch, the lurking denizens of the Museum make their move at last. Since the place appeared on Twisted, rumours have already begun to circulate that there is something within rather more dark-hearted than the compellingly unusual contents would suggest. David's thermographic vision will give him no clues; if 'something's alive out there' then it is nothing with a pulse. The secret... is that the shadows themselves are alive.
As the stealthy innocent makes her way unheeded past display cases and the freestanding poles bearing the extinguished candles, her steps are measured by carefully manuevering hands, and by a knowledge none of the other three can yet have. At least, not until a cold breeze touches them all, the rush of gathered winds perhaps the first hint that a hundred small creatures rush toward them in unison. But with perfect timing the Joker unleashes his deceptively clownlike burst of power, causing a flash of illumination in the black. It is all that saves them from the nightmare charge. But a single glance in any direction will reveal that nothing is lit beyond the immediate area. No ambient light filters through to reveal the nearby exhibits, or the neighbouring rooms. The darkness is solid, unyielding, and surrounding them completely...
This would appear to be the Joker's 'audience'.

The Guyver is caught off guard when Harley attaches onto him. This distracts him just enough to allow the Joker to reach up and grab hold of his hand sending the voltage into him. Thankfully while 'shocking' it lacks the extreme level of power Zoanoids are able to produce. That has the power to almost effectively incenerate a normal man with ease.It does make him jerk to recover and says to harley. ( Who thankfully was not on the end of the shocking thanks to his armor and body taking it all but may have been thrown off due to his jerk. )
David says, "Lady I think you mistaken me for someone else. Is this who you meant to grab?"
He will use that extreme Guyver speed and reflexes to reach out an attempt to take hold of Harley's throat and then throw her at Mistah J, "AIR MAIL, Express Delievery!" Hopefully Harley's confusion will distract her long enough for her flight.
David's senses extend to more then just thermal. They also scan the electromagnetic range, Unless these living shadows can physically block things David is not going to know anything is off because he will beable to see the energy leaching off of objects like torches, counters, bodies. While he may not be able to see the shadows, if they phycially block line of sight object he knew was there he would know something is amiss. If they do not imped it in any way David will be none the wizer something is deadly wrong.

"Love hurts Harley! What can I say?!" In a swift movement, a large gun with a boxing glove is drawn from underneath Joker's coat, and aimed directly at the Harley-Missile. "It really hurts me to do this.. More then I can ever mean." The trigger is squeezed, and the boxing glove flies forward attached to a long mechinism, which then collides directly with the poor woman's face. "Now.. Where were we..." The gun is tossed over his shoulder, as he moves over to Harley, and starts dancing around with her. Talk about your screwed up relationships.

Dancing in the dark. The very moment that light ceases to be a concern, the shadows spread slowly closer, encroaching upon the waltzing pair of supervillains and David - himself only partially protected by the glow given off by his eyes and that all-important control metal on his forehead. He will feel as much as they the approaching sense of background despair as the dark blockade of beings migrates. The previously jovial guardsmen fall silent, eerily so, leaving the only sounds those made by the three...
Except for the dull howl of heavy wood upon flagstones as the bench placed by Harley is pulled away from the door, allowing a hasty exit by the stealthy bystander. A clatter of rapid footfalls down stairs soon fades from hearing as the bulky door slips shut once more. Replaced by frenzied activity of a most silent and deadly variety. It begins around the feet of those present, what begins as an itch accelerating to a numbing pain as the body and soul are attacked. As life is drained by an otherwordly force, sucking, bleeding them of their vital energies... even the Guyver is far from safe. This attack is upon something below the skin and spiritually offset from it, working at once upon the aura and the innermost parts.
The Joker is a nightmare unto himself, but this is something far more primal...
Piranhas of the spirit.

The guyver will notice as he looks around his line of sight is blocked and he will look around realizing he has a more serious problem. His Line Of Sight to objects are blocked and that means confusion as he takes a step backwards away from the Joker and Harley. The Fighter will now sense much of anything as perhaps he is also blocked from seeing Harley and the Joker and he turns around and moves.
the sensor spheres on his head sival to move left, and right trying to get some sort of visual. David has lost interest in Joker and Harley and says, "I think we have bigger trouble..." And then he will scream as he feels the life force being attacked. HE's not sure what it is but he hates it, and as he is attacked he will start to throw punches and and kicks as if to attack the darkness.
The Guyver give him alot of strength, and energy thankfully and instead of giving into dispair and fear, David reacts reflectively conditioned with anger and hate. The Memories of the attacks, the loss of his friends, family, even his freedom to live how he wants to all come flooding back. David never gave up in his fight against Chronos, and once he had nothing to loose but his life he vowed he would survive at any cost.
His heart races and pounds in his chest pumping and surging more energy into his body. DAvid calls upon the energy of the guyver to help keep his mind clear. As a result of him randomly throwing hard kicks and punches David might smash up a display, or maybe even land a punch on the two would be love birds.

Birds chirp and children play as Joker and Harley cling a pair of glasses of lemonade together and sip happily in the mid Augest sunshine. Over the hill a boy and a girl dressed like Joker and Harley respectively come prancing along with a series of hyena puppies chasing at their heels. There's a swirl of light and soon Harley is standing at the alter in a white wedding dress, still wearing her harlequin hat and mask, as Joker looks on lovingly in his purple suit and tie. The precher adjusts his glasses and is about to read the wedding vows over Batman's corpse when... >>SMAAAAAAASH!!!<< Harley is thrown to the floor as she comes in contact with Joker's special boxing-gun. The sound of birds chirping again returns to her as the world is taken away from her. She blinks several times, hearing the strangest chewing noise? Suddenly she's back on her feet being spun around in circles. She can only assume the psychotic prince of crime has tried his unique brand of humor on her. Even in a semi-concious fog she giggles at how it probably looked. "Mistah J..." Her head drops onto his shoulders as everything goes black for her once again. Don't worry... she's had worse. Just give her a minute to recover.
Lou and Bud begin yelping and growling (alternating) at the monsters coming through the doorway. Retreating to the side of Joker and Harley, the two growl more and more before they begin yelping. Maybe David has a point.

"I'm too young to die! Here! Take the girl!" Joker then tosses Harley at the shadows, a sadistic grin slowly starting to take form on his face. "All right boys! Let's teach these people what for, shall we?!" He suddenly starts to laugh hysterically once again as he reaches into his jacket, and pulls out a small remote, with a small red button in the center.
The Hyena's start to back away from the doors, as the roof of the museum suddenly explodes violently. The light from the Twisted Sky starts to filter in, casting its own reflections downwards as numerous ropes start to appear, upon which something blue, white, and resembling a flightless bird start to decend down upon them. "D00d!"

David's strikes fall on the shadow creatures as though on nothing... or at least, very little. He finds his every attack slowed by a tenuous form of solidity, the return movement much like moving back through water. The wall of encompassing black around him never breaks, it merely shifts and presses harder, deeper, as he resists the draining of those energies he so desperately attempts to use in his favour. It might be minutes or seconds before he tires completely, before the process is complete...
But then two things happen at once. A familiar pattern to the day's proceedings.
One goes likely unnoticed, overshadowed indeed by the second, as the museum quakes and buckles before a force that feels too small to affect it; there is a tremendous sense of a greater power willfully bowing before a formidable effort, the ceiling parting for this and several floors above with very little crumbling of mortar. Scant debris falls, as though unyielding material parted like ragged petals to allow the approach of the Joker's 'Wild Card'. The shadows immediately retreat, flooding back to the recesses of the Museum and effectively disappearing; spreading so thin as to not even block the biomechanical sense of the Guyver.
Meanwhile, the bulbs cunningly mounted in each display case spark to life, a flood of dim lamplight added to the glorious daylight already streaming in. Either way, it appears the three thieves are given clemency.
Less pleasing and more disturbing; though possibly hilarious to the Clown Prince of Crime, is the revealed presence of two husks upon the floor. Bitter carcasses that once were men, dry, fetid skin hanging to bleached bone. Chunks of viscera clinging to the floor between the skeleton where they have yet to be fully devoured by the Museum's hidden guardians...

David's body does start to get tired as his reserves are not limitless. When the Shadows leave he is looking ragged and more importantly he's pissed as hell and ready for a fight. David turns his attention to the Joker as that control metal brightly glows as a hiss of Steam erupts from his mouth extensions. The control metal flashes a few times before the light turns red some and the eyes darken to a redish hilt. The guyver starts to approach The Joker as he crosses his arms in front of him and then jerks them down. "You'll pay for that!" and from the top of his arms extend long blades that hum and throb with power. The edges of those blades look dangerously sharp. The idea that the Joker had nothing to do with the shadows hasn't dawned on him...

Harley stirs finally. Her mind briefly ponders what's just happened. Between her fantasies and real life... something about chewing? As her vision finally clears she's not sure what to think. Weird penguin things, this Beetleborg guy getting mad at Joker, the huge hole in the wall. She's missing something important... Finally her mind puts the last part of the puzzle together as she bolts to her feet and screams, "ALRIGHT!! WHO'S THE BOZO WHO CHEWED UP MY COSTUME?" It would seem when Joker tossed her to the shadows they nibled on her arm a bit before retreating. Looking back and forth angrily between the group as she starts to notice things. First off, Joker's abandoned her again. Secondly... what's with the candle light? Her obsession for certain people aside, Harley decides to take her losses a moment as the briefest mark of sanity takes her. Calmly she walks into the daylight intruding from outside, sits down, and decides to take a moment to think. Maybe she did go too far. Maybe she should think things through. Maybe she should finally leave and-nope moment gone. Seconds later Harley stands in the doorway, a bazooka in her arms, and aims at David. "Alright, punk. Let Mistah J go. I'll put back tha coat." She pauses to realise it's been torn to shreads. "...I put back tha coat. Now let's all back off before I havta start makin' a bigger mess in here."

"Hmm.. Yes.. Well it seems like we don't have to use Plan C afterall.. I'll have to save them for The Bat. Now.. Onto the more important matters." Joker moves over to the manniquin that the costume of his that Harley tried to steal was on. He stands it up, dusting it off for a brief moment, to which he then places his hat and trenchcoat upon it. "There we go. MUCH better I would say!" His eyes narrow as he turns to face David. "Boy, you still don't know who you're dealing with, do you?" He suddenly goes into a fit of hysterical laughter, as a rapidly growing group of Prinnies start to file infront of the Clown Prince of Crime, each ready to sacrafice themselves for the one who gave them purpose yet again.
"Harley! It's time to go!" Joker whistles loudly as a green and purple ice cream truck suddenly crashes down from the sky, landing behind him with a loud *SMASH!* He gets into the drivers seat, and starts pounding on the horn, trying to get his psycho womans attention.

The Smashing crashing will be enough to distract the guyver and allow him to let the Joker get away from him and into the truck. Looking at the Bazooka pointed at him he says, "Girl, I took your shots to the chest near point blank, and you think that will stop me?" he says and he is prepping for Harely to fire, naturally right behind him is the Van with the Joker in it as he continues to approach her ready to dodge the incoming rocket should she fire it...

Harley doesn't fire the gun. She runs. Fast. When Joker says it's time to go and honks a car horn, you DON'T stick around and wait. Flinging the bazooka at Master Chief she does cartwheels towards the truck, throwing herself in the door, and yanking on the seatbelt. Leaning out the window she salutes the would be hero before holding on tight to the seat. "Mistah J... life's very borin' wit'out ya."

Lou and Bud are already in the trucks cabin, waiting for Harley as she buckles her seatbelt. "Isn't that the truth!" The loud maniacal laughter once more fills the air as he presses an unseen button on the dashboard. The top to the van flies off, landing on a group of prinnies, causing them to explode violently as the seats to the van suddenly take off into the sky, like Nasa launching a rocket. The laughter contines the entire way up, until it is no longer heard..

The Guyver looks at the Weapon he was thrown and there he watched as the villains escape and then he is tempted to unleash the mega smasher but he looks over to the remains of the guards and his conscious gets the better of him as he goes to check on the other guards through out the museum he is wanting to make sure they are alive and unhurt. Still in the end he will pick up a communication device phone or something to call for outside help. He does have a heart as he makes his way to where the joker escaped from the roof and will leap out through the hole hoping he can make a clean get away with out being seen or stopped for questions.

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