TB - 'Troubled Times'

"Troubled times, you know I can not lie
I'm off the wagon and I'm hitchin' a ride."

I was birthed into a sky of fire.

A gasp tore from my throat as I felt a sharp, swift stab of pain seconds after the hollow ‘thump’ as my head and spine connected with something. Whatever it was rolled away as soon as my limp body connected and dumped me mercilessly onto the wet onyx asphalt. My back screeched words of fury as it hit the unforgiving ground followed by a dull roar from my skull as it smacked down soon after.

Flames were all my wide eyes could take in, burnt husky orange fighting for dominance with biting, ruby red. This visage tilted as spun as a soft groan made an effort to pierce through the ringing in my ears, my head. It took longer than it should have for me to realize I’d made the noise. Slowly so as not to disturb my twirling world any farther, I used my forearms to push my upper half up. My head surprisingly obeyed even though it felt like it was made of lead.
To my vague surprise, it really had been the sky I was seeing. The appearance of flames was an illusion brought on by the black horizon slowly devouring the sun’s feeble last rays of light. Looking to the side I found what had been my first landing pad. An old plastic kid car, the one that held a motley array of colors and was driven by the determination of small shoed feet.

Finally the world started to settle down into a lazy slumber, enough that I could shakily push myself to my feet without completely toppling over. My arms waved like uncertain wings as balance scrambled to find its way back at home in my hazy brain. Movement stole my concentration and my eyes were drawn to a staircase set into the building I was by. It was illuminated up to its landing but the hall beyond it was slicked with black. And that black had just released its hold on one stout figure.

“-Pengy?” my brain awkwardly made the jump that the small faint question had just passed across my lips. It was him, but he looked… wrong. Disheveled. His hat was cocked to the side, clothes rumpled and dirty. His expression was one of a child who had just had his puppy taken away, being told that it was for his own good. Even his ever-present umbrella was missing… except it wasn’t. I found it clasped in my own hand, knuckles white and palm sprinkled with red crescents from my fingers being so tightly wrapped about its handle. Why it was there was a mystery. Everything was, from Penguin’s lost expression to why I was out here instead of at his side.

He blinked like the hypnotist’s victim coming out of their hell before his ice-blue eyes found me. He looked surprised, as if I suddenly had wings or had grown a snout. I may have been uncertain of most everything, but I was sure that I had no new such appendages. “What’s goin’ on?” I asked, voice mine now.

“I-I thought… I thought you’d changed sides.” He said, words broken like his usual spirit and oddly quiet compared to his usual cackle.

“Huh?” it was my turn for my eyelids to drop down then up out of confusion before my feet decided to obey and carried me forward and up the stairs.

He didn’t seem to hear my inquiry, instead turning as if he were going to allow the grouping darkness to swallow him up once more “I thought you’d left me.”

I slid into action, moving forward with surprising speed considering the world was still not completely settled for its usual drowsy dreaming. One leg moved behind his on the landing to hold me steady while my free fingers nestled themselves amid the silky shadow of his tuxedo jacket back. With a sweeping motion I brought his umbrella up to catch his retreating head and hold him in place, its royal purple fabric kissing the side of his face in a gentle ploy to have him look my way. “’Course I ain’t leavin’ ya baby. Who else would treat me like you do?” I asked into his ear, my breath vaguely disturbing his ginger explosions of hair.

He cast me a long sideways glance, the curving brazen light of the burning sky undulating across the sleek surface of his monocle. Slowly, the frown crept up his lips to shift into a sly feline smirk. “For life, like we agreed on?”

Contagious as usual, his smirk caressed my lips into an identical one and a giggle tumbled from my mouth and danced across his ear. Fingers wrapped around my thigh in invitation and I accepted, leaning nearer to purr “I might skip of ta the sea every now and then but I always come back.”

The umbrella whispered an answering chuckle as he turned his head to comply with my beckoning “That’s what I like ta hear.”

This was the ending of a very odd dream I had last night. Through the first part of it I was in Penguin's perspective even though I was the 'Anti-Harley'. And by Anti-Harley I mean my uniform colors were backwards from hers and I obviously didn't have the giant jester hat things. Anyway, I was supposed to be Penguin's assistant but I got brainwashed or something and went against him.

Then I got thrown into my/Anti-Harley's perspective when I was thrown from the building Penguin was trying to do whatever in and it broke whatever was making me disloyal to him and the above story happened.

It was all very odd and very sensual, even with the colors for some reason.

And it was definitely one of those dreams that effect you. I'd emitt a strange giggle any time something bad happened or was talked about. And I haven't responded like I normally would to certain... things. Like, not even looking up when my teacher mentioned 'Red' and 'Blue' as being different teams because I was too focused on this drawing.

Anyway. Yes that's me and yes his hand is doing what it looks like its doing. Wooptyfrick.

Penguin (c) DC
Anti-Harley/Me (c) Me