[ some people might call her ink tacky, but some people also might call a lot of what harley quinn is tacky just by looking at her. bright colors, unapologetically stark makeup (even if she hasn't had a chance to fully touch herself up since she got here and that crimson lip is looking a tad smudged), clothes that look like she took a bedazzler to them herself. but beneath the woman with the face tattoos and rings on almost every single one of her fingers is someone who pays close attention to most things — even if she gives off the impression that her attention span is as flighty as a hummingbird's. (sometimes it is, but sometimes her mind is as dangerous as a steel beartrap.)
the sliding descent of his hand prompts a quiet hum from her, and clearly she's not that bothered by where it ends up if the way she stays put is any indication. it takes a lot to get her to stay still this long, and the fact that she hasn't budged is a sign all on its own, watching him intently as he speaks. maybe she just likes what she sees.
and when he poses the idea of a game she gasps, mouth dropping open slightly, and there's no hint of it being insincere or mocking to any degree. she's just that excited to play, nodding her head a few times with an accompanying sway of her ponytails. ]
Yeah, I like that. And we just keep goin'? Sounds like a fun way to get to know each other a little better, Sam-Samuel Drake. [ yes, she knows that's not actually his name, but she can have a little fun teasing him too, running an index finger along the front buttons of his shirt. ] 'Least until we get too distracted to talk.
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[ some people might call her ink tacky, but some people also might call a lot of what harley quinn is tacky just by looking at her. bright colors, unapologetically stark makeup (even if she hasn't had a chance to fully touch herself up since she got here and that crimson lip is looking a tad smudged), clothes that look like she took a bedazzler to them herself. but beneath the woman with the face tattoos and rings on almost every single one of her fingers is someone who pays close attention to most things — even if she gives off the impression that her attention span is as flighty as a hummingbird's. (sometimes it is, but sometimes her mind is as dangerous as a steel beartrap.)
the sliding descent of his hand prompts a quiet hum from her, and clearly she's not that bothered by where it ends up if the way she stays put is any indication. it takes a lot to get her to stay still this long, and the fact that she hasn't budged is a sign all on its own, watching him intently as he speaks. maybe she just likes what she sees.
and when he poses the idea of a game she gasps, mouth dropping open slightly, and there's no hint of it being insincere or mocking to any degree. she's just that excited to play, nodding her head a few times with an accompanying sway of her ponytails. ]
Yeah, I like that. And we just keep goin'? Sounds like a fun way to get to know each other a little better, Sam-Samuel Drake. [ yes, she knows that's not actually his name, but she can have a little fun teasing him too, running an index finger along the front buttons of his shirt. ] 'Least until we get too distracted to talk.
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