Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
♡♦♡ OH, I LOVE MOVING NEW CITY, NEW FACES, NEW THINGS TO DISCOVER ♡♦♡
It's a quiet, beautiful and sunny day today, which is also accompanied by a light breeze. A few dead leaves and other such others follow the wind and blow along a lone highway. For some people it would appear to be an ordinary day, but not for Harley Quinn. Today isn't ordinary at all, not in the slightest bit.
Soon enough, the peaceful silence stops and a loud roaring noise is heard in the far distance. Harley's womanly figure can be seen riding down the highway on a shiny, black motorcycle. Two massive suitcases with different-colored fabrics peeking out it's sides are strapped behind the driver with thick rope and Bernie is secured in front of her by the same material, his hot pink tutu flying in the wind. The engine of Harley's motorcycle roars loudly as it rides down the highway. As the sound of the engine gets closer, Bernie and her can be seen more clearly.
The motorcycle is speeding down the highway, racing through the acceptable speed limit.
Twenty minutes ago, in a worn down gas station about a mile away from the main road, Harley Quinn had changed into a black and red crop top with matching shorts, fishnets and black combat boots. A pair of black motorcycle goggles sit on top of her head, pulling her "biker girl" outfit together nicely.
Her black leather gloved hands tightly grip the handles of her Harley Davidson as it shakes violently beneath her, threatening to dismount her. But she keeps her grip tight and firm, just as Rosalie taught her.
This isn't all she's wearing, though. She has on a very sizable backpack strapped to her back, which holds mini outfits for Bernie and drinks and snacks she bought from the last hotel's vending machine.
The ride is overall peaceful. She'll occasionally drive past a car, truck, big rig, or even a fellow biker, but the road is mostly empty. Which gives her time to think, especially now of all times. It's just her, Bernie and the road.
There's a bright smile that sits on her lips, one which can't wait to be welcomed by Gotham City. Jeez... How long's it been, she thinks quietly to herself. Two years? Or is it three?
If she's being honest with herself, she's more nervous than happy to return to Gotham. Maybe the right word is afraid, because she is more afraid than nervous. Any person would feel the same if they were away from home for God knows how long. Especially if they don't know how people will react to their return. So, yeah, she is afraid..
She continues to drive along the highway, but then she notices something that makes her slow down. It's the air.
The foggy air tastes round and dry, spiked with the unique scent of the city. Nobody knows what it is, not even native New Yorkers. It could be the smell of garbage that's constantly wafting through the air like a light breeze, the combination of soft pretzels, dark meats and a number of unidentifiable sauces burnt to a crisp on the food carts that like to linger on the sidewalks in an enticing, yet somewhat disconcerting, cloud. It could also be the smell of wet concrete, that stagnant water scent that can be found after a rain, or the smell of hot automotive exhaust while cars are backed up at a light or waiting to get into the tunnel. Maybe it's the mysterious hot air blowing from vents on the sides of buildings, the sun baking the stench of human and/or dog urine, the nearby fish markets, or it could also be the countess amount of toxins Gotham's infamous criminals have released into the city over the years. Hell, maybe it's a combination of all those things. But that smell that radiates from the city in a nostril-stinging cloud is what makes Gotham, well, Gotham.
