[ A truncheon is just the kind of blunt force weapon that appeals to Harley, doubly so since it's usually carried by flat foots and law enforcement but she keeps her interest to herself and bends down in her own inappropriate fit of a tattered red ballgown over combat boots to squint hard in his direction.
Marc's restraint be damned. Harley doesn't do covert, it's all or nothing in instances like these and pity the poor fool or fools that put her hair. Harley picks up an old brick behind him and hurls it at the window. It careens toward the double-paned soundproof glass with expert precision. It manages to make the material shake and then falls back down ineffectually between Marc and the window a visible representation of folly. ]
Yeah, no shit, but that was my best attempt. Unless you're able to quantum tunnel yourself through solid material.
no subject
Marc's restraint be damned. Harley doesn't do covert, it's all or nothing in instances like these and pity the poor fool or fools that put her hair. Harley picks up an old brick behind him and hurls it at the window. It careens toward the double-paned soundproof glass with expert precision. It manages to make the material shake and then falls back down ineffectually between Marc and the window a visible representation of folly. ]
Yeah, no shit, but that was my best attempt. Unless you're able to quantum tunnel yourself through solid material.