Midnight Manor Laundry Room; Sunday Morning

[totalwildcard]

Boy, had that gone poorly! Harley hadn't slept much, and some of the reasons why could maybe be inferred by how, come morning, her makeup looked like perhaps she'd been caught in a heavy bout of rain. Rain that also made your eyes look kinda red and puffy? It was Fandom, okay, genuinely much stranger things happened all the time! Leave her alone!

Also, thanks to the aforementioned lack of sleep, Harley wasn't actually feeling all that much better, come morning. She actually kind of felt like she needed to bite something.

Or maybe go egg the Wayne Foundation building in town.

Set something on fire?

... Or kick a dryer, apparently. Sorry about the occasional clanging noises (and the accompanying swearing), Midnightites! Midnighters? Midnightees...? People of Midnight. Sometimes you just had to laundry aggressively.

It was so much better than actually dealing with your feelings.

(open!)

Comments

[hasaknightjob]

Marc looked like he was about to say something lighter but changed his mind.

"I know I don't say shit good."

Purposeful bad grammar there. Probably obviously so.

[totalwildcard]

"I know."

She was saying that a lot, huh? Who knew she was so knowledgeable.

"You're... you. I get that."

[hasaknightjob]

"Great," Marc muttered, mostly to himself. He looked like her saying that had put a weight on him.

[totalwildcard]

It prompted a helpless, concerned noise out of Harley.

"What? What'd I say now?"

She pushed away from the machines, finally.

"Marc?"

[hasaknightjob]

"I'm me," Marc said, like he was agreeing with her. Or... maybe not her. He wasn't even looking at her after all. Not at any reflections either (which were of the two of them anyway, no one else). "Always will be."

[totalwildcard]

"Yes?"

Harley stepped closer - then frowned down at her hands, and tossed the top back with the rest of her stuff before returning her attention to Marc.

"That's sorta how being a person works for most of us?"

[hasaknightjob]

There was a moment of something. A feeling in the air. Like maybe there was a little bit more about to show than normally would -

And then it was gone. Completely. Tension, strangeness, upset, introspection - all gone. Instead Marc was looking at the food like he had to remind himself what it was.

"Shit's probably getting cold," he said, as though that had been the topic.

[totalwildcard]

Okay, but now Harley was staring at him. Because she'd definitely seen something... happening, then not happening, just now.

She was trying to decide whether it had been an actual thing, or a by-product of all the sleep she hadn't had.

These things could be hard to differentiate at the best of times.

[hasaknightjob]

Ironically Marc would be able to sympathize, except for how in this specific moment he wasn't aware of it.

Instead he picked up the coffee in front of him and inspected it to see if it was his. It was a remarkably similar gesture to how he'd done exactly that moments ago.

[totalwildcard]

"Still yours," Harley said, frowning. "You... okay?"

Felt like a loaded question, after everything.

[hasaknightjob]

Marc looked confused that she was asking. He looked around to try to guess why and settled on the bottle. "Yeah. You know I don't give a shit if you drink my whiskey."

[totalwildcard]

"Yeah, we've been over that already," Harley replied, now stepping close enough to try and catch his eyes with hers. "What's going on? What is this?"

[hasaknightjob]

Marc looked at her, no problem with the eye contact, but his confusion was obvious.

"Breakfast?"

[totalwildcard]

Harley just frowned harder. "But we were talking," she said. "And then ya just..."

She made a big but vague gesture with her free hand. Quick, stilted, like the way she searched for a word and landed on one.

"Reset."

[hasaknightjob]

Harley putting it like that along with the way details around him felt off in how they got there meant Marc had a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"Shit." He checked his watch. "Sunday, right? It's been Sunday the whole time?"

[totalwildcard]

Harley's gaze skittered around the room for a bit as she searched for the answer, because she was not the best person to field that particular question. Now or in general.

But she was reasonably sure, so: "I think so, yeah? Why?"

[hasaknightjob]

That agreed with his watch so at least that was settled. Even so...

"Fucking - " Marc gestured to his head. "Must've blacked out."

[totalwildcard]

Harley's face was just doing all kinds of things right now as she tried to follow along.

"What?"

Emphasis on trying.

"Well if it was that, it wasn't more than a few seconds."

[hasaknightjob]

Marc nodded like that tracked. "Usually what it is these days. Fucking Swiss cheese brain. Sorry."

[totalwildcard]

Harley reached up for his cheek. Not quite with intent to cradle, more to tilt his head a little so she could study his face.

Still frowning, her lips pressed into a thoughtful line.

"Hmm."

[hasaknightjob]

Marc let her, but he didn't look concerned. "It happens. It's broken up there. What can you do?"

[totalwildcard]

"Wonder about what's doin' it," Harley replied, tilting his face from one side to the other, "for a start."

[hasaknightjob]

Marc let her. Not that he felt she was going to find out anything except how good his shave was that morning, but it wasn't like he minded her touching him.

"No rhyme or reason we can tell," Marc said. "Sometimes Watts finds us just standing in a room. No idea how we got there."

[totalwildcard]

His cheek was feeling pretty nice, which might have contributed to why Harley's hand lingered even after the back-and-forth turning finished.

Also her eyebrows bounced up. "Hunh," she said.

And... nothing else.

[hasaknightjob]

"Honestly surprising it hasn't happened around you already," Marc admitted.