nexus_crossings | Remembering the Dead

Remembering the Dead

Harley Quinn is seated on a large rock in the Nexus today. She seems to already to be in the Halloween spirit, as the colorful young woman is dressed as a circus ringmaster. But despite her colorful costume, her usual energetic spirit seems to be missing today.

She has a bouquet of flowers in her hand. And takes one of the flowers, then slowly removes the petals of the flower one-by-one, scattering them underneath her.

"This year is going to be the first time that I am not in Arkham, during a death-a-versary. And I am not really sure what I should do?" She bites her bottom lip for a moment. "How do you remember those who are gone, without letting the memories overwhelm you?"

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His little gesture just encourages Harley to reach out and trace her fingers over the arrowhead on his uniform. "Ya' can't expect everyone to recognize this symbol ya'know?"

"That is the hard part about living an exciting adventure... someone's life is always on the line."

Her comment draws a lightly puzzled look from him. "I don't." But now that he's identified it for her, she knows what it is, in case she runs into any more Starfleet personnel. Since apparently it's more than just the other Jim Kirk sometimes.

He lets her touch the emblem, letting her familiarize herself with it. "Who'd you lose?"

"His codename was Diablo." She smiles a little. "We lost him nearly two years ago. He maxed out his powers to protect us all. And the Day of the Dead is coming up."

"And this is the first time in a long time, that I am not behind bars, and could actually celebrate properly."

Diablo's a hell of a codename to have, and Jim frowns a little, especially when she mentions the Day of the Dead. An old Earth holiday, he's pretty sure. "Isn't there some kind of tradition about making an altar, or something like that?"

"You got a pretty good idea of the tradition. You find flowers and food to decorate the graves of those who were lost."

"But Diablo burned himself to ashes... ashes... and nothing was left of him."

"I could do a Sugar Skull makeup."

"Sounds like you've got at least some idea what to do." He doesn't blame her for asking anyway, though. This is not exactly the most straightforward thing to deal with, after all. And for people like himself, an intensely personal experience, something not to be paraded around in front of others. He's had more than enough of that around his birthday every year as it is, especially back when he was still a kid.

"Maybe that would help me to remember what Diablo did for us..."

"But I still haven't figured out how to remember myself." She tilts her head for a moment. Frowning softly.

"Ya'know, we didn't do introductions. I am Harley Quinn. Pleased ta' meet ya."

Remember herself? What the hell does that mean? But before he can ask, the conversation moves on, and the moment is lost enough that he doesn't pursue it.

"Captain James T. Kirk. Call me Jim. And if you see me without the beard, it's probably not actually me."

"Captain? Like a real Captain, or like how Captain Boomerang calls himself a captain, and he ain't?"

She laughs at the second comment. And reaches out to run her hand over his beard. "Is it a disappearing beard? Or one of those, Doctor Jekyll and Hyde thing?"

"Real captain. Commanding officer of the USS Enterprise."

He leans away slightly from her touch, not because it bothers him necessarily, it's just a bit more intimate than he was going for. And honestly, back in the day, he might've been more open to that. These days... well, it's complicated.

"Nah, neither of those. There's another one of me from another universe." Probably more than one, now that he thinks about it, but so far he hasn't met any more.

"Neat. I know a real Captain. Wait until ol' Boomerang hears that."

Harley just drops her hand when he leans away from her touch. Sometimes she forgets about respecting personal space.

"Weird. Do you both hang out with each other? Do you wear the same clothes and try to make people guess which is which?"

"No, we don't talk much." To say that it's weird is an understatement, to say the least. "It's just annoying when people think I'm him. Or vice versa, probably. That's why I bothered to grow this in the first place," he adds, briefly rubbing his chin.

"I won't mistake the two of you. I know which half of Two Face is talking, so the beard thing should be easy-peasy."

"Two Face?" Jim can think of a couple reasons why someone might have that sort of name. Two heads, two faces, some kind of split personality, maybe... "Your friends have some interesting names."

"Two Face ain't a friend of mine. He was just another villain who Batsy had thrown into Arkham, just like the rest of us."

"Arkham... you mentioned that before. Is that a prison?" She'd said she was behind bars a minute ago, as well.

"It is an Asylum. A prison for the criminally insane." She tilts his head. He seems like a 'good little Captain' to her. She wonders if he will walk away now. Say it was nice to meet her, but never speak to her again. It has happened.

It's somewhat unlikely they're going to become best friends or anything - she's already been rubbing him the wrong way a bit - but he doesn't just walk off, either. If she's mentally ill, it's not like it's her fault, and she hasn't been violent towards him or anything. The criminal part... well, Jim's own criminal record is mostly petty stuff - shoplifting and that sort of thing - nothing like what she's alluding to. Doesn't mean he's got to be rude and dismiss her instantly, not unless she gives him a reason to.

"I'm not gonna ask."

"It was bad at first. But it was where I got to meet the rest of my team. The Suicide Squad." Harley smiles slightly, thinking of her new friends.

"We get the hardest missions and come out alive... we save innocents, by putting ourselves on the line. And Diablo's sacrifice saved thousands."

"I just wish, the whole entire city knew what he did to protect them. But we are portrayed as just criminals. As just nobodies."

Not that it isn't a noble thing to protect people, but the way she phrased that seems... less than altruistic, perhaps? The name of the team, the mention of missions being given to them by somebody, the fact that her fellow squadmates are also inmates... it sounds like somebody's using her as cannon fodder.

"Did you volunteer for this?"

Harley looks away for a moment. Her voice sad. "No honey. No we didn't."

She hugs herself, thinking about how all Diablo wanted was to be left alone, and then they were all forced into that horrible mission and he died protecting them all.

"That's messed up." Jim wishes he could say that it's unthinkable, but he knows all too well the horrible things that humanity is capable of. Doesn't make any of it remotely okay, of course. Anyone who takes sick people and forces them to put their lives in danger against their will is a total scumbag.

Edited 2017-10-27 15:15 (UTC)

"We were chosen for their special mission, cause they know that no one would care about any of us, if we did get killed during a mission. We can't fight their control..."

Harley crushes the rose in her hand, fighting back tears. She doesn't know him well enough to break down right now. He won't comfort her.

"I cared about Diablo."

Learning what kind of circumstances this Diablo guy died in casts a whole new light on the remembering-the-dead thing. Chances are, her teammate wouldn't be dead if somebody hadn't decided that inmates should be soldiers.

He doesn't know her remotely well enough to be the kind of comforting that would be helpful. But that's what basic human compassion is for, something her jailers don't seem to have had. "I'm sorry."

"Nothin' you can do to change things, honey. It's not your fault."

Harley knows that she is paying her dues for her crimes. But in her opinion none of them deserved to have nanite bombs implanted in their heads.

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