Welcome to Arkham Asylum-IC-

[julia]

"Would someone turn off that damned waterspout?!" Joker yelled, crawling out of his bed. He looked around, not awake yet, the sound of running water audible through the cell-block. "Ace! Murphy!" he called, holding his head with his hand. His eyes then opened widely and he looked at his pale white hand.

"AAAHHH!! My gloves!!!" he yelled, standing up. "Shit!" he cursed, then clenched his fists tightly. "Arkham Asylum again... As many times as I've been here, how many times do I have to tell you not... to take...MY GLOVES?!" he yelled, slamming his bare fist against the solid stone wall. He then heard the water again. He growled and tensed up, kicking the glass wall hard, and fell onto his side from the pain pulsing up from his foot to his leg.

"Who's got the water on?!" he snapped, looking out of the glass into the hall. He could see Pamela in her cell, and he started to bang on the glass.

"Pam?! Is that you with your stupid plants?!" he asked, crossing his arms. Resigning, Joker sighed and laid down in the uncomfortable cot, looking at his hands longingly.

"I feel naked!" he exclaimed, then tucked his hands under his arms.

[Myst]

Daniella took a deep breath and tried to steady the tray in her hands. Time to take vitals and distribute meds to the inmates of Arkham Asylum. She had just come out of the therepy room so the first door to her left was...
Daniella gasped and almost dropped the tray when the Joker started shouting and kicking the glass wall.
Not him first. Definitely not him first.
An armed guard joined her on her walk to the rooms. Which one to do first was the question.
Riddler?
Catwoman?
Poison Ivy?
Scarecrow?
Okay hell no not Scarecrow first. He was almost to the same level as Joker in her mind.
She sighed. She should just go to Joker and get things over with.
Going to his door, she waited for the guard to go in first.
"Hello," she said, forcing a bright smile to her face. "It's me Daniella, your nurse. I'm here to check your vitals Mr. Joker."
Daniella swallowed past a dry throat, hoping things would go calmly and quickly.

[Ravenwoodwitch]

She wasn't supposed to be here, by her definition. She wasn't some crazy, psychotic murderer who got some version of a stiff by killing people.

And yet here she was, attempting to get some amount of sleep in the worlds crummiest prison. Selina Kyle, aka Catwoman, was normally able to shake arrest and capture with a swish of her hips and an eye-lash flutter in the direction of everyone's most hated flying rodent-man. But something had obviously changed, something for the worst, and she was crammed into her glass prison just like the rest of the weirdos crammed into it's walls. In truth, it left the feline-fatal feeling a little rejected, something that had robbed her of a good deal of sleep the previous night.

This, of course, wasn't helped today. Joker's screams woke her up better than any alarm clock. Selina's blue eyes pulled open groggly, her free hand feeling around for Isis. The cat's head did not find her open palm, as it usually would, only making her bitter hate for the place sink in. Whatever they did to her, they would pay twenty times over for what they did to Isis.....

"Can't a girl get a decent cat-nap?" she muttered, stretching in the bed, and slinking out as best as she could. prisoner or not, she was determined to stay as far away from her old self as possible. Crummy door mouse...

She stood up, tightening her inmate cotton clothes at the hip to tighten it around her waist. She spotted the nurse, attempting to destribute medication to everyone's favorite lunatic, and chuckled.

"Careful," she called out with a smirk. "I think he broke his funny bone this morning..."

[AkiBlue]

Zel, or Sparky awoke from his uncomfortable sleep and tugged at the collar type contraption around his neck. "Damn guards and their toys..." He frowned a little but stood running a hand through his hair. Joker's yelling caught his attention, but like a smart person, he stayed out of it.
"When do we get to get out of these small confined rooms!" He yelled out toward the ceiling, hoping a guard would take that as an 'It's time for them to get out of their cells.'

In the meantime, while he waited for his 'freedom', he tugged at the disabling collar. The collar that prevented him from electrocuting everyone in there. Sparky heard the nurse and shuddered lightly. The medicines he was forced to take were repulsive. An he didn't even need it!

[MotherNature]

''Yaaaaaaaaawn~''

Pamela Lillian Isley slowly rose out of her uncomfortable cot....cot....cot...

''WHAT THE HELL?!''

Jumping out of bed, Poison Ivy searched around frantically, her red hair fluttering wildly with every panicked movement. Where was her precious plants? Why was she laying in that INFERNAL bedding? Why couldn't she feel the loving heartbeat of her children?!

...
...
...

Oh yes....she was back in that blasted asylum. B-but how? She was sure that she hadn't killed anyone recently. EH, maybe a civilian or two, but it was justified! Sighing in sadness, she fell back onto her gray cot, wondering what there was to do now. After all, she didn't have her children to keep her company. Oh...her poor, poor children. Who would be there to keep them company...water them, feed them, nurture them? Sighing again, she stood back up and looked at her orange clothing in disgust. No...no...NO! This will not do! Yanking off her pants, she was happy to know that her underclothing was still there. It would be slightly....inappropriate for her to strip all the way, and in front of the idiot men, no less. Tearing off the bottom of her orange shirt, she cut a slit through the middle, so that it would allow her more fresh air.

After all, she was part of the world. She cannot let these...these vile people to take the AIR away from her, no?

"Pam?! Is that you with your stupid plants?!"

UGH! He was here, too? Why couldn't She be in the Asylum without that clown for once? Frowning, she walked up to the glass, showing herself and her new...outfit...to any onlookers.

''Of course not, darling. They give me no water...and my babies....why aren't they here?''

[3Dog]

Jonathan Crane had been sitting upright for over two hours on the cold, hard bed that this abomination of a facility had provided him. It was unfortunate to find himself in here yet again and he could only remember, with nostalgic fondness, how efficient Arkham Asylum had been under his watch. They had made staggering breakthroughs with his experiments on the patients, although they were not the ones the Warden wanted. What did it matter anyway? A breakthrough is a breakthrough, and one in the art of fear is more valuable than anything. Fear drove the world, after all, and understanding fear was understanding life itself.

He slowly turned his head in the direction of his cell's impenetrable glass wall, his breathing becoming ragged as Joker's insufferable voice rang throughout the block. The contemplative silence he had been enjoying earlier was now completely shattered after the fool inflicted pain upon himself, a symptom of his insurmountable stupidity. Why was this cretin considered the little bat's arch-rival? Why did Batman hold a special place in his heart for the clown? The Scarecrow deserved that place, for he was the most capable candidate to bring the caped crusader to his knees! There was no one in Gotham who was on the same level as he was, he was a diabolical genius with no equal! His presence created a vulnerability that the little bat was not used to and, in a few close circumstances, Scarecrow had almost seen the fragile mind of Gotham's Dark Knight at its weakest. That simple brute Bane may have broken the Bat's back, but Scarecrow would be the one to break his mind.

Crane's vicious thoughts were suddenly pacified as he heard a soft voice in the air, immediately rising to his feet and walking over to the glass screen. He placed his hands gently on it and pressed the side of his face against it, trying to peer out at the source of the voice, but Joker's cell was not visible to him.

"My my, it's beautiful..." he mused loudly. "Your voice conveys such perfect fear! The tremble, the dryness, the pitch! Raise your voice my dear, for I am here to help you. This will be our session. Speak louder and I will treat you and silence all those nasty little thoughts that keep you up at night... After all, they don't call me doctor Jonathan Crane for nothing, you know."

The giddiness in his voice was apparent and it was clear to see he was already relishing the opportunity of being face to face with the nurse. A shrill and chilling laugh escaped his lips.

[Phoebas]

“Well,” said Dr. Graves, scanning the folder in front of him, “You come highly recommended Ms. Frost.” The balding man eyed the slender young woman over the dark frame of his glasses. He expected the, ‘please, call me by my first name,’ that seemed so common amongst the younger generation, but was instead faced with stony silence. He looked at her again and sighed. “It’s of course a pleasure to have you with us, Ms. Frost. But I must ask, why Arkham?”

Arkham Asylum was not a popular place for interns. The inmates assured that most psychologists-in-training fled long before their allotted year of service was up and that those who stayed were almost as loony as the patients in lock-up. He scanned her again, noting her rigid posture, her icy blue-gray gaze. ‘Shit,’ he thought, adjusting his collar, ‘Didn’t the girl blink?’ He wondered if she was chain-chaser, one of those sad women who got wet thinking about criminals behind bars. She did have the repressed librarian vibe, he wouldn’t be surprised if she-

“The commute,” she stated, her eyes narrowing slightly, as if she could guess his thoughts. Dr. Graves shifted in his chair, unnerved.

“Pardon?” he asked, unsure of what exactly had just popped out of her mouth.

“It’s the shortest commute for me,” she stated evenly, her voice very mellow, so unlike his wife’s own shrill tone, “Sunnydale was four times the distance. Arkham is the far more economical option.”

Dr. Graves stared. “Ms. Frost, you are aware that our facility houses some of the world’s most deranged and deadly psychotics? As much as you will try to help them relocate their sanity, they will try to break yours. Are you certain that you wish to base your place of employment on a few extra dollars in gas money?”

The young woman’s lips curled into what apparently counted as a smile. “Have you seen how much interns get paid? Any less and I’d be living on cat food.” Dr. Graves stared and then chuckled nervously.

“Then you and Selina Kyle would have something in common,” joked Graves weakly. The woman was not amused. Dr. Graves cleared his throat and quickly shut her folder. “Very well, Ms. Frost. You will be working under Dr. Quinzel. She will be your direct superior, and you will report to her on a daily basis. She, in turn, will update me on your progress. She’s been informed of your presence and..” he quickly checked his watch, “She’ll be waiting for you in the therapy room. There’s a group session scheduled for today. After they’re all medicated of course. The guard outside will escort you.”

The woman nodded and stood, exiting in a very professional and precise fashion. Dr. Graves watched her go and then shook his head. “I wish you luck, Ms. Frost. Truly I do.”

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Iris’s shoes made a crisp, uniform clicking sound as she marched down the hallway, clipboard and pen clasped tightly against her body. She wasn’t nervous. Iris Frost didn’t get nervous. Instead she ignored the strange tightening sensation in her stomach and focused on keeping her breathing and her heart rate steady, a difficult task as she strode nearer and nearer towards the psych ward.

The guard beside her, Whipple by name, was a big man, broad shouldered, with a permanent scowl carved into his features. His hands were thickly calloused, especially around the knuckles, and Iris was bright enough to recognize those hands were born from violence. She wondered how much of the force he had used in his career was justified, but decided to keep such thoughts to her self.

Iris used her brand new pass card to get into the ward, the door opening with a buzz. Taking a steadying breath, she marched down the sterile, white hall, averting her gaze from the harsh glare of the lights overhead. She passed rooms, rooms doubtlessly filled with patients, but she did as Whipple instructed her and kept her gaze straight ahead, not stopping until she opened the door to the therapy room.

There was a woman seated there, surrounded by a ring of hard plastic chairs. She glanced up at Iris’s approach, tucking a strand of golden hair behind one ear. Iris smiled, walking forward with her hand outstretched. “Dr. Quinzel, I presume?”

The woman smiled, her eyes sizing up the intern. “Yes, indeed. And you must be Iris Frost. I’ve heard good things.” Iris nodded her thanks and Dr. Quinzel returned to her seat, gesturing to the one beside her. “Please, take a seat,” she said with a smile, “We’re having a group session in a few minutes. Though I think it’s best if you just observe this time, okay?” Iris nodded and sat, uncapping her pen. Observing was what she did best, and she was looking forward to this.

[General Scales]

Harry slowly made his way down the halls of Arkham down towards today's assignment. He got to go visit some of the more permanent residents, or more dangerous at atleast, for the time being. Of course at least a few of them had known about him for as long as they had been imprisoned and he was a regular visitor because he seemed to handle them well enough. He was a bit annoyed with his age already though as he now had to use a cane to move across the prison just to keep his legs from fumbling with the nerve problems he had developed recently. A few more turns and the old guard was in the corridor hosting Gotham's worst or maybe just the most prolific in causing trouble, hard to tell sometimes.

Harry noticed commotion already starting up with the Joker complaining about not having gloves, it was kind of a wussy need, and a nurse was already down here trying to medicate the clown which was probably going to cheer up the rest of the patients. "Good morning everyone." The old gruff voice of the equally old guard rang out along the corridor. He plodded along looking at each cell in turn, he took the time to tap the glass of Scarecrow's cell with a slight scowl, then made a return trip back to make sure nothing was wrong this early in the day.

[julia]

Joker smiled widely and sat up, looking right at Danielle. His straight, eggshell white teeth taking up a large part of his face. He knew this nurse. He knew that he could make her squirm and he knew just how to. He stood up, pinning his hands behind his back and leaning forward a bit.

"Ahh~ Daniella..." he purred, "Long time no see," he chuckled, then heard Crane down the hall, teasing the nurse that was currently paying attention to the Joker.

"Crane, don't scare the girl! We want her to sssmile!!" he said loudly, then began to cackle. He looked out of his cell at Selina Kyle's cell, and gave an evil shit-eating grin.

"I didn't break a funny bone, but it looks like Batsy's little kitty batted at the wrong playtoy..." he giggled, shooting a glare at her before turning back to the nurse. He placed the back of his hand where his wrist and hand meet to his forehead and placed the other hand on his chest.

"Oooh..." Joker sighed, beginning to act woeful. "The meds... oh dear... I suppose I'll behave and take them but... I need my gloves!" he complained, giving her big, although black and cold, eyes as to beg.

[MotherNature]

Poison Ivy, who was staring out of the glass in annoyance, noticed the old guard as he made his rounds. Hmm....AHA! He could be her ticket out of this infernal cage. Wait...what was with his beard? Or sideburns? Shaking her head a bit, she tapped on the glass, hoping to attract his attention.

''Why, hello there Mr.Guard. I am Poison Ivy...would you mind taking me out of this cage, and out for some sun light? This dreary darkness is REALLY making me sad...'' she said in her most seductive tone, drawing a circle in the glass. Mentally, she was disgusted. She sure as hell didn't want to seduce such an old man, but hey, you gotta do what you gotta do.