[IC] Children of Arkham Asylum

[Morose]

“What if Superman had decided to fly down and grab the President out of the Oval office...?

...Who would've stopped him?"

The year is 2043. The ARGUS initiative has brought peace to many, but horrors to many more. Task Force X is no more, replaced by Task Force Y, the newest incarnation of it. It remains as a top secret organization, with a few of its former members having received their freedom. Captain Boomerang, Harley Quinn, and Deadshot were all released.

Yet not all of them could avoid the life of crime for long. Both Boomerang and Quinn have been incarcerated in Arkham Asylum, older and supposedly more mature. Yet they are not the only ones imprisoned behind those gates. The Joker and Poison Ivy, Killer Croc and King Shark--all of them are in the same hell, serving times for crimes they have committed, and ones they have not yet had a chance to enact. Many of them are parents now, with their offspring roaming the streets of Gotham, unable to be adopted, unable to be cared for.

It was the ARGUS initiative that provided shelter for these children. Guardians were selected by the Gotham Police, sheltering these children, as they were enrolled in newly founded Wayne High. A state of the art facility located just a stone's throw away from Arkham, children are given a strict environment, filled with rules and learning. They are taken each Wednesday to visit their parents in Arkham, a form of group therapy, intended to help both parties.

Yet there are still whispers of something coming in the dark. Superheroes have been vanishing, only to turn up dead days later. The Powerbound Alliance, an international organization, was massacred. Its heroes were found soaked in blood, beaten beyond an inch of death. Only two members -- codenamed Lucifer and Echo -- appeared to have survived. Batman searches frantically for the two survivors, yet even Power Girl has been found dead. Green Lantern is missing, and the outcome is not optimistic.

There is a new power awakening in the world. It is ready for you.

Are you ready for it?

---

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Folly Quinzel

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Location: Wayne High Library
Day of the Week: Wednesday

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Folly dreaded Wednesdays. They had been attending Wayne High for a few months, and already, it hadn't been the dream she imagined it to be. Her mother paid little attention to her during the group therapy sessions, instead begging her for any news about the Joker. The very thought of that man sent a shiver down Folly's spine, as her neck felt like it burned. Gingerly, she adjusted the scarf, hoping to hide the horrible scar. Some of the students at Wayne High hadn't yet accused her of being the daughter of that thing. She didn't want to give them any reason to get curious about her.

"Robinson Park...Chinatown...Old Gotham...Diamond...Blackgate Isle...East End..." Folly let out a breath, her heart beat stilling. Whenever she felt overwhelmed, Bruce had instructed her, she need only list names of the various districts of Gotham. She hadn't told him about the more horrifying emotions that sometimes ripped through her, but he seemed to have known. It only made sense for her to be slowly losing her mind, but as long as she didn't hear voices, she thought she'd be safe.

"Otisburg...Burnley..." Folly concluded, grabbing a book off of the shelf. They would be escorted to Arkham in just under a few minutes. If she was lucky, they'd forget to send her along with the others. She could stay behind and read in peace.

[BlueSky44]

Marygold Isley

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Location: Wayne High Hallways

---

Oh dear, it's Wednsday again. Why does this day always have to come. Nothing good ever comes from it.

Marygold was wandering the hallways of the school, dawdling before the weekly trip to the prison. She was in no hurry to leave the school and head there, but her "legal guardian" Commissioner Gordon forced her to do it, just like he had forced her to attend this school. Legal Guardian? More of personal prison guard if you ask me. Why did I have to get stuck with the chief of police for a guardian? Sheesh, acts like I'm going to murder him any second. She grumbles along, with nothing to do, she was not very happy with her living arrangements, but it was better than living on the streets.

She wandered around, eventually she walked outside to the plants that were in the garden in front of the school. Mary walked over to them, and started talking to them. She didn't really have any friend, so the flowers were the closest thing she had.

"Why does everyone think I'm dangerous? Just because I could kill them with a kiss. There isn't anyone I'd want to do that to anyway. My life is so annoying, I can barely stand living it! Everyone thinks that I'm just like my mother, they never see me for who I am. Half the time people talk about my mom, the other half of the time their asking who the heck my father is! Ugh, oh well, no one listens to me anyway. You all do only because You can't move. I wish I had an actual friend besides plants or crazy people."

She walked over to where the police were waiting, to take them to Arkham Asylum.

[Morose]

"Don't try to play crazy with me....

....I'm a lot better at it."

ACCESSING ARGUS DATABASE...

TYPEDQUERY <<PERSON>>

.....

.....

ERROR. DOCUMENTS REQUESTING ACCESS ARE TOP SECRET.

TYPEDQUERY <<THE JOKER>>

ERROR.

TYPEDQUERY <<HARLEY QUINN>>

ERROR.

TYPEDQUERY <<FOLLY QUINZELL + MARYGOLD ISLEY>>

....

LOADING FILES.

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Folly Quinzel

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Location: Wayne High Library ---> Arkham Asylum
Day of the Week: Wednesday

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Folly sat down in the corner of the library, listening idly as the alarm in the school wailed incessantly. It never stopped until everyone was found, but she could hardly care less. Her hands were still as she turned the pages of the book, a refurbished copy of the Brothers Grimm's fairytales. Her guardian, Bruce Wayne, always insisted that Folly had seen enough gore and horror for a lifetime, but she didn't care. She always felt at ease when she read through the fables, so old and so potent.

"I'm not going with the other children, Commissioner," Folly said simply, hearing the footsteps of the officer. She was considered a "high flight risk" at Wayne High. On no less than three occasions, Folly had been found in the midst of running away, packing her bags and returning to her beloved home of Coney Island. Her mother's friends would take care of her there, that she knew. And if her godmother wasn't in Arkham as well, she'd be living with dear old Aunt Ivy.

"I'm not Commissioner Gordon," a dark skinned woman, slightly chubby, said softly. "My name is Amanda Waller. And by god, you're going to go visit your mother whether or not I have to put a bullet in your skull to do it."

Folly glanced up from the book, frowning slightly. "Put a gun against my head, pull your trigger, then I'm dead..." Her voice faded off slightly, and Amanda frowned, before motioning for security. Folly didn't put up a fight, escorted with the rest of the children across the lawn, and into the dreaded doors of Arkham Asylum. She knew, instinctively, that she could end up there in time.

"Hello, Marygold," Folly said. "I think we're late for tea..."

[BlueSky44]

Marygold Isley

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Location: Arkham Asylum

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Mary just wished she could go back to the gardens. Yet, this was a necessary evil that had to be done. Arkham Asylum was creepy to her, and she was pretty sure Commissioner Gordon thought that she'd end up inside those walls someday. If she had her way, Marygold would avoid the place at all costs. Some dumb psychiatrist thought that this would be helpful to their parents though. "I honestly doubt that," she said to herself.

She saw Folly catch up to her, and she gave a little smile. Her mother was practically sisters with Harley Quinn, so she got along alright with Folly. Even though Marygold was a little jealous of her living arrangements. She didn't have her own personal policeman following her around.

"Hello Folly," she said as they walked into Arkham, giggling under her breath at what Folly had said,"Ready for another fun filled Wednesday afternoon at Arkham?" she asked sarcastically.

[Morose]

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Folly Quinzel

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Location: Arkham Asylum
Day of the Week: Wednesday

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Folly smiled weakly, unconsciously rubbing at her neck. Her skin prickled against her touch, in protest of her fingers running over the slowly fading scar. Despite her blood remaining in her body, Folly still felt as if her presumed father had indeed once more slit her throat, and left her on the ground, surrounded in a pool of her own blood. No amount of medication or group therapy could change what had happened to her. For her mother's child, Folly had been particularly sane. The question for most, her guardian especially, was whether or not her sanity had been robbed from her.

"It is to laugh," Folly said quietly, the small smile playing across her lips. The security guards opened up the gigantic gates of Arkham, ushering the children inside. A Korean girl named Mallory was taken kicking and screaming away, shouting off complete nonsense. They usually had one or two end up in police custody by the end of the field trip. The school to prison pipeline was more than a metaphor for the students of Wayne High--it was a reality.

"Do you suppose they'll make me see him?" Folly asked Marygold, touching the scarf wrapped around her neck. There was no proof that the Joker, or Jack Fairfax as his medical forms identified him, had any relation to Folly. No DNA test had been performed, and had it not been for the porcelain color of Folly's skin, Deadshot would have proven a far more likely father. As things were, however, the Clown Prince of Crime could have been ruled out.

He was rumored to have been dead at the very time her mother became pregnant. Laying low, it would have been hard for the two of them to create a child, especially as her mother was avoiding him like the plague at that time in her life. "Quinn, Isley, you're in group therapy session 28-A," Dr. Borgman announced briskly, tapping his pencil against a clipboard as he gestured to an open door. Armed guards stood on either side, ready to pounce at the slightest provocation.

"It appears we have each other this time...." Folly observed, before heading into the therapy room.

[BlueSky44]

Marygold Isley

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Location: Arkham Asylum

---

She looked over at Folly, and sighed. Marygold knew exactly who she was talking about. She also knew that most people thought that the Joker was her father, but no one knew for certain, it was just assumed. They should do a DNA test if you ask me, she thought as she looked over at the girl. There was nothing she could do to put her thoughts at ease.

"I don't know Folly, let's hope not though. That would be a disaster if they did," she said, and thought of her own mother. The woman who had been in and out of jail her entire life. That same woman never answered any of Marygold's questions, and she hated that. She constantly avoided any questions about her life, or anything relating to if Marygold really had any other family. At least Folly has a few rumors about her family, I have nothing.

When she heard her name called along with Folly's, she breathed a sigh of relief. At least she would be with someone she knew, and she wouldn't be alone with that woman. Marygold was also happy to learn that Folly wasn't going to have the possibility of being in the same room as both the Joker and Harleyquinn alone.

"Well, let's get this over with." she said, and followed Folly into the therapy room.

[Morose]

---

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Folly Quinzel

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Location: Arkham Asylum
Day of the Week: Wednesday

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---

The room was cold, the walls made of cinderblocks. Any illusions that this was a place of healing and rehabilitation instantly vanished. In the first days of Arkham Asylum, the glass walls allowed psychiatrists to quickly look at patients, but the idea had backfired. A riot had broken out, with shards of glass from the cells used as weapons, as daggers. Three psychiatrists had been slaughtered in the ensuing chaos. And so, cinderblocks it was.

The three patients -- the Joker, Harley Quinn, and Poison Ivy -- were secured in straightjackets. Their faces cleaned of any makeup, more shells of the elaborate personas they wore as a mask when roaming the Gotham streets. The psychiatrist in the room smiled uneasily. Each time Folly and Marygold had visited their parents in Arkham, a new doctor would be in charge of treatment. There were two possible reasons: one was to prevent another Harley Quinn from forming and the other was a simple fear of working with the Clown Prince and the Queens of Crime.

"Why is he here?" Folly asked simply. "He isn't my father. He shouldn't be here."

The psychiatrist brushed Folly off. Each week, she argued that the Joker shouldn't be there. And instead, she was given an excuse about how it was part of the Joker's treatment plan, and that he needed to be able to face his final victim. They never considered the psychological impact on Folly, instead attempting to cure the more visible madman. Beckoning for the two of them to sit down, the psychiatrist adjusted his glasses, pushing them up his oily nose.

"Let's start off with sharing the highs and lows of our week...Jack, would you like to start?" the psychiatrist asked. They never referred to the Joker as the Joker in the asylum, instead using his legal name: Jack Fairfax. No one was quite certain whether or not that was truly his name, but legal records insisted that it was. It was a fact that mortified the Fairfax family, especially after their daughter, Edwina, had been placed on the FBI's Most Wanted list.

[BlueSky44]

---

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THE JOKER

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Location: Arkham Asylum

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"Well, let's see now. I just loved it when I managed to cause a guard to shoot himself, what a pity he didn't die though that would have been the best thing for me. Oh, I also remember getting another person to try and hang himself. That was fun too," he said, all of this he was saying, he had a big smile on his face.

"Of course, I did try and see if the bat could come and visit me, but he said no. I never get to have fun with the bat while I'm stuck in here having to listen to you babble on about feelings, or how your trying to help me..." and he just started rambling more nonsense. He wasn't making any sense, but that was to be expected from the Joker. After a few minutes, he stopped and gave his weird smile to the psychiatrist. He was having fun just trying to freak him out. The Joker tended to ramble until it drove everyone mad, or just kept going until they tried to kill themselves, whichever came first.

[Morose]

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Folly Quinzel

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Location: Arkham Asylum
Day of the Week: Wednesday

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---

"Awww, puddin'! I think that hanging' and all was real genius of you," Harley gushed, hardly able to stop herself. Her blonde pigtails bounced as she squealed, praising her on-and-off again boyfriend, the Clown Prince of Crime. At the bat refusing to visit him, Harley sniffled a bit, but the straightjacket prevented her from wiping away her tears. "Batsy's no fun anymore...But ya don't need 'im, Mistah J!" Harley promised, toppling off of her chair in enthusiasm. The weary psychologist picked her up and righted her, before turning to look at Folly rather pointedly.

"Folleen, what about you?" the psychiatrist asked gently, only to receive a death glare from the quiet girl. "Folly, sorry. I always assume you follow the same naming pattern as your mother--"

"--Then maybe you should try reading a file," Folly said bitterly, staring directly at the psychiatrist. "If you did, then you'd know there's no reason for the Joker to be here. He isn't my father. He's the maniac who tried to kill me, or did you not read the file at all?" But just as always, the psychiatrist didn't even bother to respond, instead waiting for Folly to give her highs and lows of the week. The girl's lip curled slightly in distaste, eerily similar to the way the Joker's did.

"My high was every day I didn't have to sit in the same room as the clown moron," Folly sniffed. "And my low is sitting here with his smug face staring at me."

"Same for me," Ivy chimed in, crossing her legs. "Any day away from Jack is a blessing. He killed my darling Petunia last week." She was, of course, referring to a cactus they had allowed her to keep in her cell. The guards had been a bit relieved when it died, though Ivy could only blame the Joker for its death.

[BlueSky44]

Marygold Isley

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Location: Arkham Asylum

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This is going just great, everyone yelling at one another, my mother opening her mouth. This is just fantastic!

Marygold stayed quiet for the most part, ignoring the talking that was going on around her. She just kept her head down, and started messing with her curly hair. Mary kept her eyes looking at the floor, so she wouldn't have to risk looking at her mother. The room seemed to be divided right now, Harley Quinn and the Joker on one side, Poison Ivy and Folly on the other. Folly and Poison Ivy agreed about not wanting to be in the same room as the Joker, while the other two were perfectly happy. Marygold felt like a third wheel, and just wanted to leave.

She hated being in this room, and she hated her mother for being a criminal which resulted in her being in this room.

"Well Pammy, some of us don't want to have to deal with people sitting around with a plant all day," the Joker said to Ivy, and then turned to Folly,"I don't appreciate being here either. If I had my way I would be out on the streets having a little fun with the bat".

[Morose]

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Folly Quinzel

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Location: Arkham Asylum
Day of the Week: Wednesday

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"That would make you happy, wouldn't it?" Folly spat, a dangerous spark in her eyes. Not very many would recognize it for what it was, aside from Bruce or Alfred. The girl had started suffering from mild delusions, nothing very dramatic in scale, but enough. Whenever the look came over her, it was a warning, an omen of the lapse in sanity to come.

Kill him! Cut the stupid clown's throat, what did he ever do to you besides try to kill you, after all? Your mother doesn't care, kill them all, kill them all, kill them all... She whimpered a bit, curling her hands into a fist, attempting to shove out the soft voice in her head. It had never been so loud before, and had she been anywhere else, she would have ran off in tears, madly scratching her arms in an attempt to regain sanity.

"At least I don't make defective children," Ivy sniffed, having noticed the slight mania dancing in Folly's eyes. She was always perceptive, Poison Ivy, part of what made her who she was. She smiled a bit, her lip curling, as she moved to stand and left the room, straightjacket on and all. She didn't want to put up with the Joker for another moment, and she flashed a grin towards her daughter.

"I hate what you've done with your hair, Marygold," Ivy said, just as the guards took her away, and returned her to her cell. Folly sulked a bit, sinking in her chair, hoping that neither Harley or the Joker would be staring at her. If there was anything she wanted, it was to avoid turning out like them. It would be a fate worse than death to end up in Arkham herself.

That was, of course, until the sound of an explosion rocked Arkham Asylum. The doors, all electronically operated, slid open easily. A few criminals began attacking the guards, fighting in a mad frenzy in order to escape. And the psychiatrist in the room with Folly, Marygold, Harley, and the Joker...

He ran.

[BlueSky44]

Marygold Isley

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Location: Arkham Asylum

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She was annoyed with her mother, then again, when wasn't she. Of course, she wanted to yell back at her mother when she basically insulted her hair, but she was relieved when Poison Ivy left. Marygold thought of leaving too, but thought about Folly. She did not want to leave her here with that madman.

Marygold just stayed where she was, hoping for this to be over soon. The explosion practically knocked her out of her chair. A mob of prisoners showed up and started attacking the shrink. Well, this just made things interesting. Wonder who decided that there was going to be a jailbreak right now. She was confused, but by now she was out of her seat, and backing away from the mob.

[Morose]

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Folly Quinzel

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Location: Arkham Asylum (Isolation Ward)
Day of the Week: Wednesday

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Do you know the way blood pours out of an open wound? It isn't the way you see in the movies, the high pressure spray of a faucet, and the subsequent screams. No, blood doesn't pour as much as it pushes. The strokes of the blade drag the blood like water, flinging it in various directions--but the blood itself is passive, merely brought along for the ride. When the Joker slit Folly's throat, his arm guided the blood as it flew and hit the ground, with a thud too quiet for anyone but insects to register.

Trapped in the room with the Joker, Folly saw her blood on the floor, and she screamed, her hands reaching up to her neck to frantically put pressure on a psychosomatic wound. As Folly pulled away her spotless hands, she saw the blood, and she screamed again, convinced she was near death. The fact that she would hardly be able to scream if blood was flowing deeply from her neck escaped the girl. The room seemed to be spinning, with enemies and dangers no matter where she looked. Her hands shaking and clammy, Folly held her head, rocking back and forth as she attempted to come to turns with any reality.

"He's in my head!" Folly cried. "Get him out, out, out!"

But the phantom of the Clown Prince of Crime continued to spin circles around her, and while it was all inside her mind, it didn't make it any the less real. As the windows of the asylum were shattered, Folly was pulling her own hair out, scratching and clawing in a desperate attempt to make the voice leave her alone. It told her to do terrible things--to kill, to torture, to destroy...

By the time Folly ceased screaming, she found herself alone, in a part of Arkham that she didn't recognize. Having no notion of how she got there, Folly tentatively tried to door, only to find herself locked inside. No matter how much she threw her weight against it, it refused to budge. Gulping, Folly looked at the dried blood on her hands, a result of her frantic and paranoid movements that brought her there. Marygold and the others were nowhere to be found.

Glancing around the room with slow, jittery, and cautious movements, Folly spied a glowing redness in the recesses of the cell. Reaching into her pocket, she realized that her phone had been abandoned in the chaos, and with the sound of the siren in the distance, she knew that Arkham would be surrounded by the police before long. It was high alert.

"You're a crazy ass bitch, aren't you?" a voice in the darkness asked. "Get that from your mama."

"Who...Who are you?" Folly asked, walking backwards, only to find herself trapped. There was no way that she could see to escape the cell, and unable to glimpse the figure in the dark, Folly assumed the worst. The Joker must have orchestrated the entire scheme, an elaborate way to get revenge upon Folly--but revenge for what? Revenge for existing?

"My friends call me Floyd."

[Morose]

“Riddle me this, riddle me that...

...Who's afraid of the big black bat?"

The year is 2023. The Suicide Squad, comprised of the Task Force X team members, have successfully finished yet another mission. The monstrous entity, King Shark, has been returned to his home at Belle Reve Maximum Security Prison in Louisiana, and the world appears to be safe. Bruce Wayne, the ever so eligible bachelor, is invited to a charity auction the evening of November 5th. He will not appear. The board members of Wayne Corp. are not all too surprised, and his trusted butler, Alfred, makes a few hasty excuses.

Bruce Wayne's absence is not without reason. Donning the dress of the Dark Knight, Mr. Wayne wears Batman's identity. On that particular evening, he is in the Burnley District of Gotham, home to its university and WGTU radio. But tonight, the eyes of history are upon the hospital. A sinister figure is about, her feet not treading on the ground, as she glides instead. Her facial expression is vacant, and as she reaches each hospital room, a shriek follows her passing.

Her knock signals who is next to die. And in this hospital, with those on the edge of life, that death comes quicker for some. A few patients die within moments of her greeting, others last a full day. Time is a fickle friend and death awaits none. And so she continues on, moving from room to room, methodic and cold in her approach. It's just a job to her, nothing to be ashamed of, and nothing to be particularly proud of.

But just as she comes for the nearly dead, the Gotham Bat has come for her. The struggle is violent and lengthy, yet it ends due to the most simple natural weakness. More than allergic to iron, the Bat quickly uses this against her, until she too is in chains, shipped to Arkham for evaluation. But they cannot keep her there, no. They cannot contain Mallory Grimmoire, and tortured with iron shackles, they ship her to the same hole in Louisiana, the same swamp of dead dreams.

Now the year is 2043. Now the guards do their rounds of the prison, walking down its winding labyrinths, until they notice they are one prisoner short. Mallory Grimmoire is nowhere to be found. And throughout the cells of Arkham, the prisoners newly freed from the hellish institution, faint knocks can be heard drifting down the halls. Always thrice.

Death has come.

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Folly Quinzel

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Location: Arkham Asylum (Isolation Ward)
Day of the Week: Wednesday

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There was no light for the figure to step into, but Folly hardly needed it to identify the speaker. Her mind betrayed her emotions and her instinct, insisting that the famed assassin was still operating within Gotham at large. Just last week, her guardian had expressed frustration at the murder of a prominent scientist at Deadshot's hands, and wished that the Gotham Bat would be able to achieve some justice.

Bruce Wayne, as far as Folly could tell, was a bit of a vigilante lover.

"Floyd as in...Deadshot?" Folly asked slowly, her jittery hands stilling, as her mind righted itself. The manic episode from before had vanished, leaving hardly any trace that it had occurred beyond the dried blood on her hands. The names of Gotham's many districts, from Otisburg to Bristol County, echoed through her mind, helping with the stabilization. Her breath slowed as well, allowing her poor heart to cease pumping excessively, as if it was going to burst.

"Yeah, that's me alright," the man said simply, without any embellishment or explanation. Folly couldn't explain what she was seeing or hearing. Her gut instinct was that it was real, but her mind told her it was impossible. She ran through the names of the districts again, her eyes shut. And by the time she opened them, the glowing red dart was still there. Deadshot was still there.

"Did they incarcerate you recently?" Folly asked, confusion obvious in her voice. "I thought you completed a hit last week?"

"Funny how that works, right?" Deadshot commented, with no trace of humor in his voice. "I've been locked up nice and tight in here, while some asshole's been using my name to get street cred. Does that seem right to you?" The assassin shook his head slightly, and in the dark, Folly heard the rustling as he removed his helmet. It was odd, she thought, that they had allowed him to keep it.

"Someone at the asylum did this?" Folly asked. Only silence answered her, and she took it as a yes. It was the only explanation she could think of, and with her own mother as an example, Arkham hardly seemed to be a healthy working environment. Perhaps another psychiatrist had gone rogue, and somehow managed to lock Deadshot away, and then take his place in the outside world. Still, she couldn't explain why they let him keep the mask. There was something wrong with the situation, something she couldn't understand.

"I'm not actually crazy," Folly blurted, blushing slightly.