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Post by [The] Riddler on Aug 21, 2012 19:05:12 GMT -10
Gotham had been turned upside down by several contributing factors. From clowns with war paint blowing up hospitals and abandoned warehouses to a question mark obsessed freak killing R&D workers from WayneTech, nothing seemed safe anymore. Between Blackgate and Arkham, these were the safest places in Gotham City which was odd because it held the criminals of the city.
Currently at Arkham, visitation had been a recently added feature for the inmates. Doctor Arkham had a well publicized verbal spar with Mayor Garcia regarding this right --- Garcia felt as if allowing the inmates within Arkham the ability to see others from the outside would be dangerous, Arkham waved him off as a nuisance and stated it'd be a right step in the rehabilitation process. It was an hour away from the end of visitation, as usual no-one would show up --- today was different. At the receptionist desk, probably the easiest job in all of the city a woman in a white overcoat and hipster glasses sat filing her nails, completely inattentive to the fellow there.
"Excuse me, I'm here for a visit?"
The woman popped a bubble formed from gum in her mouth as she changed her attention to the man there.
"For who?"
"The man you call Joker.. I know him as Jack.. Jack Napier. He's a distant relative."
"Whoa.. That psycho has family?!"
Instantly catching herself in the act of discrimination, the woman covered her mouth with her right hand as the fellow leaned forward and pressed his weight onto the counter.
"Yes, that 'psycho' has family. If you need identification, I can supply you with that.. But I think you'd much rather enjoy your meaningless job, right? I mean.. I don't think Doctor Arkham would appreciate you labeling his 'sick patients' with such derogatory names like that.."
Without hesitation, the woman reached down and grabbed hold of the phone sitting there --- picked it off of the hook and jabbed at the dial-pad with her fingertip. After a second or two of delay, she made some arrangements to get things done and before the fellow knew what had happened, a metal click sounded, the door then was buzzed open that lead to the back as the woman put the phone back down on the hook.
"I'm so.. so.. so.. sorry about that Mister.. If you'd be as so kind as to sign in prior to heading in, I'm sure we can by-pass the formalities and technical stuff of ID'ing you."
With a wink, the woman had absolutely no idea who she was dealing with and how she'd learn she had mucked up when it was all said and done. Picking up the pen, the fellow signed in..
"Dwight Nashton"
.. And placed the pen down, tipping his bowler's hat to the woman before heading forward --- towards the open door. Once within the back area, the door closed behind him, but even the menacing thud didn't bother him, he kept heading forward, whistling the tune of "Pumped Up Kicks" by Foster the People. Meeting him at the door was a bulkier guard, this oen that had on a standard colored white security uniform as he waved towards the fellow to approach him.
"You're here to see Patient J?"
With a smirk, a hint of light beamed off of his eyes as he nodded, adjusting the bowler's hat on his head.
".. Jack. Jack, yes."
With a nod, the man didn't frisk the fellow with the bowler's hat, instead he lead him directly into a room with security cameras on each side of the wall and towards a metal desk that was planted into the ground for the benefit of the patients and visitors.
"Jack is being brought out now. Please understand sir, he's being restrained for both of your own good --- we're under strict order from the head doctor, Jeremiah Arkham to keep him restrained until he no longer poses a threat."
"Understandable. The news I bring is best delivered while he is restrained, I wouldn't want him to hurt himself after learning the stunning turn of events.."
With a simple nod, the guard walked off --- a few seconds later, three guards rolled Joker into the visiting room as he was strapped to a resistance chair with a straight-jacket on his upper torso. The paint had been removed from his face, his hair was long[er] and greasy, the scars on his face gave his identity away as the guards placed Joker down across from the fellow --- this was as Joker had his eyes closed."
"Do we get privacy? Family matter.."
One of the guards looked at the other --- which caused him to shrug before he pointed to his wrist, the watch there.
"You've got ten minutes man.. No more."
"That's more than enough, but thank you kindly.. Enjoy your breaks."
Once the guards left and shut the door behind them, the fellow with the bowler's hat took a seat on the chair across from the restrained Joker and thumped his thumbs on the desk --- he didn't do it for rhythm, he did it to annoy Joker --- to get his attention and allow him to see where he was. The fellow in the hat knew Joker would be heavily sedated as he probably was uncooperative with the doctors in the Asylum.
"Wakey, wakey clown. You've got a visitor that needs to pass an extremely important message.."
Currently at Arkham, visitation had been a recently added feature for the inmates. Doctor Arkham had a well publicized verbal spar with Mayor Garcia regarding this right --- Garcia felt as if allowing the inmates within Arkham the ability to see others from the outside would be dangerous, Arkham waved him off as a nuisance and stated it'd be a right step in the rehabilitation process. It was an hour away from the end of visitation, as usual no-one would show up --- today was different. At the receptionist desk, probably the easiest job in all of the city a woman in a white overcoat and hipster glasses sat filing her nails, completely inattentive to the fellow there.
"Excuse me, I'm here for a visit?"
The woman popped a bubble formed from gum in her mouth as she changed her attention to the man there.
"For who?"
"The man you call Joker.. I know him as Jack.. Jack Napier. He's a distant relative."
"Whoa.. That psycho has family?!"
Instantly catching herself in the act of discrimination, the woman covered her mouth with her right hand as the fellow leaned forward and pressed his weight onto the counter.
"Yes, that 'psycho' has family. If you need identification, I can supply you with that.. But I think you'd much rather enjoy your meaningless job, right? I mean.. I don't think Doctor Arkham would appreciate you labeling his 'sick patients' with such derogatory names like that.."
Without hesitation, the woman reached down and grabbed hold of the phone sitting there --- picked it off of the hook and jabbed at the dial-pad with her fingertip. After a second or two of delay, she made some arrangements to get things done and before the fellow knew what had happened, a metal click sounded, the door then was buzzed open that lead to the back as the woman put the phone back down on the hook.
"I'm so.. so.. so.. sorry about that Mister.. If you'd be as so kind as to sign in prior to heading in, I'm sure we can by-pass the formalities and technical stuff of ID'ing you."
With a wink, the woman had absolutely no idea who she was dealing with and how she'd learn she had mucked up when it was all said and done. Picking up the pen, the fellow signed in..
"Dwight Nashton"
.. And placed the pen down, tipping his bowler's hat to the woman before heading forward --- towards the open door. Once within the back area, the door closed behind him, but even the menacing thud didn't bother him, he kept heading forward, whistling the tune of "Pumped Up Kicks" by Foster the People. Meeting him at the door was a bulkier guard, this oen that had on a standard colored white security uniform as he waved towards the fellow to approach him.
"You're here to see Patient J?"
With a smirk, a hint of light beamed off of his eyes as he nodded, adjusting the bowler's hat on his head.
".. Jack. Jack, yes."
With a nod, the man didn't frisk the fellow with the bowler's hat, instead he lead him directly into a room with security cameras on each side of the wall and towards a metal desk that was planted into the ground for the benefit of the patients and visitors.
"Jack is being brought out now. Please understand sir, he's being restrained for both of your own good --- we're under strict order from the head doctor, Jeremiah Arkham to keep him restrained until he no longer poses a threat."
"Understandable. The news I bring is best delivered while he is restrained, I wouldn't want him to hurt himself after learning the stunning turn of events.."
With a simple nod, the guard walked off --- a few seconds later, three guards rolled Joker into the visiting room as he was strapped to a resistance chair with a straight-jacket on his upper torso. The paint had been removed from his face, his hair was long[er] and greasy, the scars on his face gave his identity away as the guards placed Joker down across from the fellow --- this was as Joker had his eyes closed."
"Do we get privacy? Family matter.."
One of the guards looked at the other --- which caused him to shrug before he pointed to his wrist, the watch there.
"You've got ten minutes man.. No more."
"That's more than enough, but thank you kindly.. Enjoy your breaks."
Once the guards left and shut the door behind them, the fellow with the bowler's hat took a seat on the chair across from the restrained Joker and thumped his thumbs on the desk --- he didn't do it for rhythm, he did it to annoy Joker --- to get his attention and allow him to see where he was. The fellow in the hat knew Joker would be heavily sedated as he probably was uncooperative with the doctors in the Asylum.
"Wakey, wakey clown. You've got a visitor that needs to pass an extremely important message.."
