News:

"The Most Precious Jewel [One Shot: NC-H]"
Congratulations Mellific & Swashbuckler for completing your RP!

Main Menu

Jokes on You

Started by Anteros Vox, November 17, 2013, 12:02:14 PM

Previous topic - Next topic

0 Members and 1 Guest are viewing this topic.

Anteros Vox

It was the first moment he'd actually felt amused in nearly two days, a disgusting display it was really though. Who dressed up like a bat and went around crime fighting? This would be vigilante who knew he’d be caught by the freak anyway… Now in the back of a police vehicle he began to rest his head along the window watching that bat fade away into the night. HMPH. Rude not even a goodbye after all Joker thought he’d made a new friend tonight. The bright lights of the squad car bounced off the alley and trash cans around and around as he watched them. Narrow green eyes starring a hole into the window as the two policemen were trying to figure out what to do. Their dispatch confirming that they should bring this criminal in with caution. Joker smiled as he heard the voice on the radio, “Proceed with extreme caution, he’s a maniac.” Well at least they knew that much anyway. When the cops began to head back the Joker began to rock in his seat, cuffs behind him he began to beat his head along the window. Harder and harder as his breathing got harder and harder yes it hurt to a degree… though there were worse pains. Laughing low and the feel of warmth came slipping down the side of his face from his brow.

“HEY STOP THAT!” One cop yelled, it only fueled him on as he beat harder feeling the black outs come and fade moving faster to do his best to break the window. “He’s fucking crazy let him!” The other shouted it wasn’t long until the door opened and the electric buzz of a taser going off in his chest. Joker’s smile widened exposing his teeth as they clenched to the pain of the shock flowed an then there was darkness. Like a dream he heard mumbles of voices of the two arguing before the engine roared up. They were driving off the Joker bloody from self-inflicted head-butts with a bulletproof window and burn holes in his clothing his very nice clothing damn it!  After a drive they arrived to the hospital where he slowly regained consciousness ready to lift his hand to his head only to find both hands were cuffed to a hospital bed. He’d been brought in for observation for his head wound the room completely empty save for the heart monitor that was attached to his chest with tiny stickys he could see. They’d cut open his shirt the buttons all but ripped off nearly made him frown they’d even taken his shoes off. They were thrown in a baggy the words evidence written on them along with other various items removed from his person.
Through the door he could see guards  their shadows showing underneath the door but silence otherwise. BEAP BEAP BEAP … his heart if he didn't hear it he wouldn't have believed there to be a heart in his chest.

He rested his head back looking once more to the door waiting as he closed his eyes feigning sleep. The steady heart beat slowed as he calmed down until it beeped as a warning that the heart rate was decreasing.  A light went off, it wasn’t but two minutes later that he heard the door pull open a nurse rushing in to check on him leaned over the machine he could smell her. His eyes darting open as his mouth parted grabbing her arm with his teeth biting down. Her scream rang across the room panic in her as he bit harder into her forearm blood flooding his mouth until she was ripped away by the guards storming in. Two pushed him down into the bed his mouth red as he spat out  the raw chunk of meat in his mouth to the floor. “What the matter? Don’t like love bites?” The crying nurse was rushed out of the room as the feeling of a fist hit his face. “WHOO HOO it’s a party now isn’t it?!” The doctor rushed in horrified to see what was happening, unable to get near him he shouted. “GET HIM OUT OF THIS HOSPITAL! HE’S FUCKING INS ANE!” The Joker laughed lowly throating the sound in a hummed growl. “Finally someone who understands me.”

His transportation was quickly dealt with he would be better attended to in the asylum before arraignment . They took to restraining him the only way possible mouth gagged and chained he was pushed through the back entrance another criminally insane added to the ranks of Arkham Asylum. The ward was in a buzz as the Joker was escorted through the halls he could see bars and the patients behind them. His head turning to eye them for a moment as he passed by each cell. Well bars he could deal with bars just fine. Leaving the ward he frowned how would he be able to talk to anyone if they didn’t put him in his cell?? He realized they were not taking any chances with him he would going in complete lock down… Passing another gate until they marched him into his cell. He noted the toilet in the corner but no place to wash his hands. The built in bed made of cement he could feel the chains moving. AT LAST he was being taken out of his restraints and this was his chance! That was until he felt the prick of a needle hit his thigh. Looking down with a growl they’d stuck him!

When he woke up he was on the floor with in some glass cell his eyes felt so dry… His throat too. Blood dried around his chin and jaw down to his neck from earlier… hm how long was his nap?? Slowly getting to his feet he walked to the large glass able to see nothing but a heavy door with bars in the distance. The rough sound of his voice roaring out… “Okay okay… I’m sorry!” His eyes darting to the camera in the corner moving towards it and shouting. “I HAVE LEARNED MY LESSON.” Hmph. The sound left his throat. Fine.. he’d play along for now. His cell was quite unique given his reputation it was specially made for the likes of him. Complete with gas chambers that could easily put him into a mini coma. Though that wasn't his biggest problem he hated the nothing behind the glass who would he talk to?? Talking to himself got boring after a while although it was the most intelligent conversation he’d ever had.

blue envy

“He's been out awhile. Couldn't get them to keep him at the hospital, couldn't put him in with the general population either.” The guard was hunched over a monitor at his station, watching various screens in a dully lit room that held forgotten files and had no windows. Harleen stood behind him, watching one particular screen and vaguely smiling to herself. He was hers. She'd fought for him, her patient. Her eyes were lit with optimism and an almost child-like excitement was barely contained in her expression. She would fix him, she would write about it, she'd be famous. They would both be famous and it all started with one patient, one particular patient that was more unpredictable than the rest. She'd read the file, what was gathered on him, and this was the chance she had wanted.

“I know,” she answered with her eyes trained on the screen, listening to the muted sounds of him yelling. The only cell with real volume that could be turned up or down because he was locked away from even the guards. No one got near him, no one was allowed except to keep him alive and except for her after a lot of fighting and paperwork.

There was an echo, the scrape of metal, rattle of keys, clink of doors. There was an uproar from the lunatics, a deafening sound that drown out the click of her heels on the unyielding floor. She ignored them, her eyes fixed in front of her and her jaw set firmly. The clipboard she held at her side she had clamped her fingers so tightly onto her knuckles had turned white, but the other hand swung limply, casually. A guard-turned-orderly, different from the one stuck in his windowless workspace, walked beside her in a rigid upright position, occasionally slamming his night stick into the bars of some too riled inmate. Harleen resisted the urge to flinch at the abrupt sound and the howl it prompted out of this or that person behind bars. “Sorry, Doc. They don't see too many new people down this way. It's kinda like Christmas having him then you come through.”

The bright blue eyes glanced at her only protector and she smiled a tight-lipped smile that prevented her teeth from showing. “It's alright. I don't mind. I've had worse things said to me.” The vulgar noise and occasional cat call almost made her laugh, albeit it would have been a flighty sort of response. It wasn't the same as being stared at on the street or by men and women in minimal security asylums. Her observations had all been done in such tame places, with people who hadn't hurt anyone, not really, not intentionally. These people, they were monsters, and some part of that idea was so enticing. To be able to get into their heads – who wouldn't want to jump at the opportunity?

The door at the end of the hall looked foreboding, even when they stopped in front of it. The man, in his wrinkled uniform, paused to peer at the slight woman in front of him in her very serious white coat. The aging face looked concerned for her. “I'll be right outside if you need anything. You be careful with him. A lot bad people come through this place, but there's something wrong with this one. No sense of self-preservation and smart. Those things, they don't mix. Don't make any sense.”

“Well,” she started calmly, almost confident in her mission, “we'll see. He can't do much harm behind glass.” Harleen nodded once and the guard, still reluctant to put her near him, yanked the door open. This time he was rewarded with a flash of her teeth as she stepped into the room. The door closed quietly behind her and she almost looked back to it but stopped herself midway. The grip on her clipboard was renewed and the anticipatory anxiety coiled in her stomach.

From where she stood, she could see him standing in more light than she was currently in. He looked more like a drunk off the street who had gotten himself into a brawl from where she stood. Slowly, she made her approach, the sound her heels louder in a quiet room, deafening, even above the echo of voices rattling in her head still from the cell block. Three steps away from the glass she stopped and stared serenely into the enclosure. She wasn't smiling anymore, but studying him, trying to determine if he still looked like a drunk. The blood, she could guess, wasn't actually his so much as the poor nurse he'd bit. “Have you?” she asked suddenly. “Learned your lesson? You haven't been here very long. You haven't been awake for most of it. It's hard to say you've learned anything.” Harleen pulled up her clipboard long enough to compose a brief note to herself. The board was then pressed against her chest and held, not protectively, but as a matter of convenience. “But you do know why you're here then.” It wasn't a question but she still looked expectant as if he should say why and how he'd turned up in Arkham.
Souls owned: Five -- A/A | Lines | O/O | Storage Box

Anteros Vox

He had taken the liberty of removing a few buttons from his wrist the tatters of what was once a nice dress top ragged and soiled. He had his own sense of style many didn't see the artist in him and his taste in bold color schemes. The plastic thing dropped to the floor and there it remained as he eyed it for a very long time.  Idly thinking of the other buttons and knowing he’d be unable to stop himself from ripping each remaining one off in a matter of time.  The iron hinges of the door had moaned open the lift of a dark blonde brow followed making out only the white coat from afar. He’d been all too familiar with lab coats like that in and out of places he got around.  This was not his first time being in a nut house but he didn't need to reflect on his younger years just yet. Bare feet wiggled inside his socks they should have removed his clothing while he was out cause he was having funny ideas now. Then she came in the light reflecting through the glass her posture was what he looked at first. Neatly kept… young but not ugly at all. He didn't say a word just yet slipping one foot behind the other taking a step back from the glass.

Had he really learned his lesson?? Well that was a funny way to make her introduction she instantly came off as pointed and he’d not said a single word to her to deserve that! Green eyes looked down to the block of a bed before sitting , feet planted down along the cold floor hand his hands just on his knees. Awkwardly upright he frowned dropping the corner of his mouth. Her second question made him snicker some did she even know why he was here?? It could have been a number of reasons but he threw one out at her anyway. “It might be the old folks home I visited.. or the ricin I placed in several books in various libraries.. or it could be a giant freak who has nothing better to do then nose into other people’s business.” He smiled leaned his palms harder into his knees yeah this was no good. Hard as stone he wouldn't get enough beauty sleep that was for sure. He didn’t mind the stitches in the side of his head or the beating the police gave him even the smell that was coming from him. It was the damn bed.

“Let me guess you here to evaluate me? I can save you some time on that.” His finger lifted up and then down as he pushed up to his feet walking back to the glass. “Name, unknown, age unknown, height six foot one, weight approximately one ninty-ish.., eyes green, hair blonde” Though at the moment he’d had it a fading green. “Subject has psychopathic tendencies, sociopath…? “He gave a mild shrug. “Though I’m not one for name calling you hear me toots.” Winking towards her he slammed his hands into the glass. “Just tell me what do I got to do for a pillow and some toilet paper?” He etched a smile on his face as his right hand slid down leaving only his left hand up. His index finger pointing to her head and heading down the length of her form to her feet and up again to her head. “How rude of you. You haven’t given me your name toots.” He turned his shoulder into the glass and finally turned his back to her leaning against it. This glass was thick it wouldn't do any good to try and break it. Wondering to himself just how to get into the gen pop of this nut house. He did so much like being around mindless people they were easy to handle.

He didn’t assume anything just yet and as he leaned his weight on the glass he noticed only the turning of a camera noting only its left and right slow capture of his cell.  The one thing on his mind was when they would have to come and give him time to shower, time to eat… the routine was especially interesting to him around here he thought he would ask. “I’d like to know my schedule if you don’t mind.” No malice in the tone he was genuinely curious about how they handled the animals in here. How they would handle him, the stupid thing about people was they were always going on about human rights and some other such bullshit.

blue envy

The pen in her hand was gripped tightly in her palm, her thumb pressing the top, making it click in a relaxed meter. She stopped instantly the moment his hands met the glass. The action was not enough to make her jump but her eyelids fluttered. The beat of her heart changed slightly and then slowly settled back into its normal, steady pace. She watched him move, let him speak, give his information or lack there of. Toots, he called her toots. That was one thing she had never actually been called. Another of her pursed smiles was given and she looked down to the paper held safely on the clipboard. From the top of her head she pulled down her glasses and pressed them onto her face, nudging them up. “Your schedule,” she finally started, “is determined by me.” The look on her face relaxed and so did her smile. “After this session. You need to be evaluated before any of that. So, the sooner we're done, the sooner I can tell you.”

She glanced up from her note taking to look him over with a blank expression that didn't change but for a twitch of a smile in the corner of her mouth. “My name is Doctor Quinzel.” She stepped forward, almost enough to touch the glass in front of her and stopped. “And you were right, we don't know much about you, but you must have a past. You must be someone and come from somewhere. No one just shows up in Arkham because they had a bad day.” The closer she got the easier it was to really see him underneath the mess of blood and ratty, strange attire. She watched him very much like cats watch mice. Each movement taken in, almost unblinking.

“That being said, you earn everything here by improvement and cooperation. That means if we have a good day, you're rewarded. If it's a bad day you may lose something. Our patients don't leave but they don't have to be uncomfortable during their stay.” She wasn't as jittery as she had been standing looking at an image of the man she was now meeting. It wasn't so bad, especially with the glass between them. Next time she should plan to stay longer. Finally she turned her eyes to sweep the room. It was clear she wasn't going to find anything, but she ought to consider a table and a chair next time.

Her attention swayed back toward him. “I want to ask you a few things and remember, before you answer, good days get you what you want.” It was always beneficial to remind patients, in case they were rash or quick to forget what was good for them. “What's your real name? I've heard the Joker,” she added with a slight smile, “but that's not a real name. That's a title, and I don't think it's what it reads on your birth certificate.” It was no more real than Batman or any other pseudonym the lunatics of the asylum came in with. A curious moniker but that was all it meant to her. It wasn't frightening, just different.

Harleen had turned serious, the smile having evaporated. There wasn't a trace of it left. Her pen was poised over her paper. If it hadn't been she would have been clicking the pen top again. Briefly she pushed up her glasses that did not quite sit right if she looked down for too long, the black rims would slip down and interrupt her when she looked up. “How many crimes do you think you've committed in your career?”
Souls owned: Five -- A/A | Lines | O/O | Storage Box

Anteros Vox

He nearly cringed at the idea of having to put up with her, his cage was not exactly what he’d call a holiday stay. His brows smoothed as he eased a look over his shoulder towards her. Noting she was a bit closer than moments before those damned heels of her scrapped along the floor. He let his eyes cast down on them before turning around to face the good lady doctor. So she was serious about trying to have this evaluation.  She was overly aware of her face he seemed to think so most people didn’t keep the same simple expression when they spoke. Her tone then that fake blank look and the simple smile again. He didn’t care what her name was in truth but it kept the conversation going. He suddenly didn’t feel like talking about himself at all and began to focus on her.

The hardened stare was a studious sweeping gaze that fell over every little detail of her face. Her hair its neatly presented and oh so professional style. Her neck tracking the presence of any jewelry or lack there of all the way down to her wrists and fingers one finger in particular. He pressed his hand up to the glass and frowned some his head bent down as they stood almost a full foot away from each other. Shame about the glasses maybe some men found them appealing he wasn’t one of them. Four eyes. He watched her lack of emotion but the man merely shrugged. “My history.” The taste of something sour hit his throat as he smacked his lips. “

Who really gives a shit about me? As far as most people are concerned they’d like me to be held competent enough to stand trial. It’s what I would like as well. It aint going to get any better than this right now Toots.” He catch the way she eyed him and began to ease back from the glass. “There isn’t much to improve.”
“What's your real name? I've heard the Joker.”
“Whats your real name?” He looked back at her with a grin.
“How many crimes do you think you've committed in your career?”

“How many have you committed.” Another grin though he wasn’t referring to crimes. “How many nut jobs have you sent to the padded room girly?” He wasn’t about to really answer her questions he didn’t want to talk about himself. “You know it’s pretty late and I sure could use some sleep. Saturday night is date night you know ? You should be out there with some moron you can assess and ultimately decide he isn’t good enough for you.” She wasn’t much fun right now, he turned around lazily lankily to his cement bed. “Bring me something when you come back Toots. If I like it I will answer a few of those questions for you no problem.” He sent his hand through the air in assurance.  The rags of his shirt were pulled off his shoulders bunching it up behind his head as he sank back . Nice and cozy like lifting a knee as he lay there.

“Extra points if you bring me the newspaper. Sunday’s paper. I have a feeling the headline is going to be a blast.” He wasn’t kidding, he had been able to get away with a few things before that flying rodent caught up with him. The church on main was ticking and midnight mass was about to start his smile fell more inwardly and the thought of it. “Are you a religious sort of girl ??" He shook his head in never mind. "Good night my dear.”

blue envy

Harleen didn't wear jewelry, not really. Studs in her ears of a ruby color, no necklaces, no bracelets or watch, no rings. Devoid of frills or cheap costume jewelry that people could be so fond of wearing. It simply never occurred to her to add anything unnecessary that too often got caught on fabric or this or that when most of the time she wasn't even aware she was wearing it. What was the point? Especially when patients could try to steal it, it could be triggering... anything could set them off.

She sighed. No, of course it wasn't going to be easy. Why would it be easy? For a moment she thought she might have him, might have done or said something to get a bit of information out of him but he was shutting down. He was trying to play a game and she wasn't, by the very nature of her position, allowed to participate. That didn't stop the urge from rising up to keep his attention, keep from having him dismiss her so easily. Harleen could feel her chest tightening and her hold on the clipboard was beginning to ache. Her lips pressed firmly together, unwilling to give up her name on request. It wasn't important, or it didn't seem that way, but a name was over familiarization, it crossed a personal boundary not meant to be crossed with people like him. But it was just a name...

Why did she feel compelled to prove anything to him at all? The urge was undeniably there. The short answer was because she wanted this to work, she had to have his trust and apparently his interest, something she didn't have. She was letting it fall apart before it even started. That should have been as bad as it got, but he managed to make it worse. The clipboard was lowered slightly and her eyes widened despite telling herself not to react. It was a game – she smiled faintly. He was playing with her, there wasn't anything special about the Sunday paper.

The clipboard was lowered back to her side and the pen was tucked into the pocket of her coat. “If I tell you my name would you tell me why you're interested in the paper? You've done something haven't you? That no one's caught onto yet.” Her voice was soft and even, an underlying excitement barely noticeable. “You don't have to make yourself miserable here. I can help you if you'd let me.” The glasses were lifted up and placed back on her head, safe until she forgot she put them there. “But you do have to give me something to get something back. A trade. A fair trade. Give me something I want and I'll get you something in return.”

She smiled again, almost automatically in an attempt to be friendly. “Maybe the paper or something to eat... or a pillow. You can decide.” Harleen was pushing, stepping over her boundaries just a little. Most patients would get what they were given for good behavior. Somehow she doubted it was going to work that way with this one. Her patient. Her eyes narrowed. It was going to work out. It had to. He didn't even realize how important he was to her, reclining there so casually, indifferent to his situation. Part of her was tempted to snap at him to stop being so cavalier.
Souls owned: Five -- A/A | Lines | O/O | Storage Box

Anteros Vox

  “If I tell you my name would you tell me why you're interested in the paper? You've done something haven't you? That no one's caught onto yet.”
“I’ve always been a man to make a bargain so sure thing. I guess I can tell you but you have to get where I’m coming from sweetheart. You talk about tit for tat fair trade bullshit. What’s fair about what your offering? I can refuse to even talk to you and be given another Doctor to try their best to get answers from me. BUT I like you so we’ll play it your way. Though tell me what is fair? The way I see it your out there, and you have access to everything you want regardless of what I give to you. Then you have me in here alone, with not a single thing to amuse myself with. You better offer me something better then your shit rewards system. SO here’s my list of things I want and for each thing I get I will give you something back. Something you can’t get anywhere else. Some insight maybe…”

He leaned on his elbows able to feel the ungiving cement pressure there. His attention went back to her with an amused look on his face; ah her glasses had been removed. Bouncing from topic to topic he blurted out. “AH you look much better without them. I can see those baby blues I feel as though I can see your soul through such pretty eyes.” He laughed low amusing himself by the lady behind the glass inspecting her as if she were the one in lock down. “I may have done something… depends on what time it is exactly I might have already done it.” Even now the Joker had his crew working on the rest of his plan they knew already where He was and as he lay there he could do so with a sense of ease. Knowing that the junior high dropout was hacking into the asylum security to start the plan to bust him out. It was only a matter of time before they made contact with him.

He lowered his gaze sweeping his eyes down making it seem as though he were thinking inwardly lashes resting just along his high cheek. “Yes.” He replied. “I have done something. Though we all do things to amuse ourselves don’t we toots.” He didn’t get up but remained in the same position as he began to talk more and more. “You know I noticed you’re not wearing a ring, can it be that you’re not married?? Well your young, and since you’re here that must mean you just don’t have the time huh? I know how that is, busy busy hard worker bee you are. Come on there must be a boyfriend or some booty call to get your rocks off.” He made a single shrug at his left shoulder. “What do you say? Tit for Tat right?? I answered your question, now give it to me honey your name, something I can call you unless you like my pet names?” He eased now off his bed and began to head back to the glass.

“I have other names I can call you but since we are becoming fast friends I don’t think you’d like me very much.” He looked to his wrist and lifted it to his mouth biting, it stung at first but the quick rush of adrenaline began to kick in as he broke sink, bleeding his wrist and pulling it away from his mouth. A couple of nonchalant dabs with his finger he’d gotten something to write with.  Leaving his name on the glass purpose written backwards the words coming out as the only name he had ever been called.  ‘JACK’ then he paused with a grin. ‘JACK LOVES DOCTOR QUINZEL’ Now fully ignoring her as he began to draw doodles of the last ten hours and his actions. Though the blood was slowly clotting and just before he was about to draw the church exploding he grumbled punching the glass. He wasn’t able to break it of course and laughed as he eased back he clasped his hand clutching his knuckles knowing he must have problem the middle one as the pain made him feel. Simply to feel. He had acquired a higher tolerance for pain years ago always pushing the limits of pain being stabbed, shot at, beaten and while he himself had the same and more he was sick and tired of everyone not enjoying his antics so of course they had to die. “Oh and I think I would like to have our meetings outside of this box. A more intimate setting. You know me laying on a nice cozy leather couch while you ask me repeatedly how I feel.”

blue envy

Oh, he thought he was so clever. It made her smirk and glance to the side. Her arms were crossed against her chest, holding the clipboard against her. There wasn't any need for her to feel defensive. There wasn't anything he could do or say to change their positions, he was still her patient, he was still trapped. So why was he so calm about it all? The skeptical look lingered, even when she returned to watching him. She stared at him, focused on not altering her expression to so any sort of alarm about the time. If something terrible had already happened there was nothing she could do about it, if it hadn't happened yet that meant she had to do better than she was doing. Harleen slowly shifted her eyes up to the camera. They weren't listening, they weren't allowed, but it would have been nice if they had heard some of the conversation.

“When you're dealing with the mentally unstable you don't really want to wear jewelry,” was her entire comment on whether she was married or seeing someone. He didn't need to know, she wasn't going to tell him. It was perceptive though, to look for a ring. The guards had been right about him and as disconcerting as it was, it was thrilling. She really would have someone to write about, to set her apart from everyone else. That was immensely pleasing. Strange though he was, at least he didn't disappoint.

The mutilation to his wrist caught her off guard and it startled her enough to take a small step forward as if she was actually going to be able to stop him or help him. It had made her eyes widen in alarm, just for a moment, as soon as she realized it she pressed her lips together and did nothing. “Jack,” she repeated quietly at the first sign of a legible word. It caused her brow to furrow. Answering his question about her name was not something she wanted to do, she wanted to ask him as many questions as possible, not talk about herself. At the sentence, scrawled in red, she fished out her pen, clicked it, and returned to taking notes on the clipboard.

After a moment she pulled her glasses back down over her eyes and pushed them up a little. Once or twice she glanced up, peering over the rims at what he was doing, the things he was drawing. It was enough not to make her flinch at the sudden attack on the glass. “You've made a considerable mess,” she pointed out dully. “You're violent, manipulative, self-destructive, and suffer from sociopathy. You want me to let you out of your box?” The request made her smile, that tight, insincere look she gave to everyone when they said something she didn't exactly approve of, but wouldn't say so. “It's not the cards, puddin', sorry.” Fine, it was unprofessional to play the name calling game, but no one else was listening anyway.

“Keep from destroying anything else, including yourself, and maybe I'll let you sit across from me at a table, handcuffs included, of course. You have a history of biting.” There was no point in entertaining the idea. She doubted he would be capable of keeping out of trouble long enough to even leave the cage let alone have someone tether him to a table. That was asking for trouble. Forget it. “You wanted to know your schedule,” she started as a change of topic. “You'll do best with a fixed time table. Guards will check on you five times during a twenty-four hour period, not including,” she lifted her pen in vague indication of the camera. “The first will be at seven to take you to shower, the second at eight for breakfast, noon for lunch, five for dinner, and at ten. You'll receive medication at breakfast and lunch, please take them. At the ten o'clock check-in you'll be given a sedative to help you sleep. You'll see me daily for the first week at one. At the end of this week you'll be evaluated to make adjustments to your schedule, after that adjustments will be made as needed.”

Harleen pushed her glasses back on top her head and grinned at him, far too pleasantly considering the situation. “Enjoy your stay, Jack. Crimes to report, records to update.” She hadn't been so drawn in she forgot he still could kill people or had killed people. That privilege between doctor and patient didn't extend that far. She turned to retreat to the door, but paused, and slowly turned back. “I think you can wait for my name. Next time.”
Souls owned: Five -- A/A | Lines | O/O | Storage Box

Anteros Vox

Hmph Asshole. Funny thing was she was right he had no other chance then to wait but he merely cradled his hand like some wounded animal would turning around to look over his cell. No shower, only a toilet moving towards he pushed the button. It was loud like that of an airplane where they sucked it down without any real water. He could hear her steps walking away ah well he didn’t mind giving her the name Jack it wasn’t his name at least not anything he could relate to. Maybe once upon a time he was called that. That was someone completely different someone who let things happen instead of making things happen. A short lived person to what he was now? A new insight on things hit him at a fairly young age. He’d been going by the Joker for a long time now years in fact it was the one thing people didn’t expect. What harm could some Joker do really?

Once he was sure she’d gone he went back to the center of the room, picking up the button he’d ripped off. Returning to the bed and began to remove the other buttons from his tattered shirt. Bringing the material to his mouth as he ripped it onto shreds making a small pile of them he got on only briefly to remove his trousers. They’d taken his shoes, the brown leather shoes he remembered seeing in evidence bags. Size eleven and a half and a little snug he wished he’d kept those on then he would have string! They even removed his belt his coat had been missing too! They took everything with metal in it or anything they thought he could use as a weapon. He began to grin and laugh again at her joke. “I can wait well of course I can wait! Christ Toots, you might as well say your liar to my face rather than run away behind that little clip board of yours.” He nodded as if she’d answered as if having a conversation with her before mumbling. “No… no I don’t have a bad history of biting, I only bite for a reaction.” Nodding. “Well I see your point. Not the best way to interact with people, but I wouldn’t exactly call everyone a person. You have people like you and people like… Your think I am crazy. A sociopath? Then again your opinion of me doesn’t really matter as your not a person either but lying little twat with four eyes.” He laughed. “OH HO HO… Language right right.. lets keep this professional. You will get me the Sunday paper right? Unless of course you don’t in which case I might be a little upset.” All the while ripping his trousers up, speaking fast in almost a single long sentence with brief pauses for his rebuttals. 

He was nearly naked now, save the heart boxers he wore and socks which were kept on one hanging at his ankle the other pulled up most of the way. When he finished he began to throw the pieces of clothing into the toilet flushing them down one at a time. It took a few times but slowly the thing was backing up. A few more would have done it, the lack of water made things hard to move until the water that sat internally began flooding up. He threw in more, and the caught material made a horrible gurgled sound pushing water and clothing back up and the water fell over the cement. He’d bee doing then with in the hour of his ALONE time, until finally someone had noticed or bothered to. The door swung open Joker perched in the corner of his bed and toilet water two inches in his cell. He ignored them and sat back only to watch as they spoke to one another on how to proceed. He could tell already the room the smell was changing. They were going to knock him out were they? He inhaled deeply unconcerned until he was out.

Once the Joker passed out the guards opened the door the metal door to the rear the only way in or out of this place. The Joker was a walk always and they didn’t seem to want to step in the water before someone spoke up. “Fucking idiot… now we have to get him out of here.” Two men armed another there with the materials to clean up the mess. “I swear things I see here, just like prison.” Joker was finally dragged out and face down on the floor outside the cell he was cuffed behind and placed on a gurney face down and wheeled away from his cell. “He can go to another cell until we get this fixed.” The man began to report to his supervisor who gave the okay. While that was being attended he was left cuffed in an empty cell but closer to the general population of the asylum.  He’d managed to get out for now and maybe the only time.. forcing himself to wake up his body didn’t listen. Though he managed to wake starring down into the mattress pad his body numb his brow twitching from the force of will power.

His breathing increasing pulling in as much air clean air as he could until his mouth parted his body felt so heavy too heavy. His elbow moved bending his arm feeling the cuffs on his wrists he rolled with a groan. “That’s one hell of a drug. I’ve had better.” Arching his back and finally settling into a seated position. He could hear the others around him no cameras here.. he pulled his legs up bending his knees to pull his cuffs around his arms twisted but not all together uncomfortable. “I NEED A SHOWER!!!” He began to shout out. “SHOWER SHOWER SHOWER” A guard rushed to his cell. “SHUT UP! You’re a trouble maker and I’m not goin…” A man in another one of those stupid lab coats arrived glasses too! What was it with coats and glasses. Boring. “Hello Joker.” His voice was calm about the situation. “Take him down to shower. In restraints. He needs clothing too.” The guards griped. “But Doctor he’s..” The man shook his head. “He’s a guest here, and we should accommodate. Besides he’s a special case. No problems right?” The Joker smiled. “Sure.” He made a mocked appeal to the man. “Doctor Crane.. he’s the one who cause the mess in isolation.” Doctor Crane merely frowned. “I know I’ve been watching. Consider it a freebie. Besides we’d got a call from a Judge he’s got his lawyer in the way to visit in the morning. We can’t have him looking like that can we?”

Joker gave a smug grin. Yeah right lawyer his crew was already aware where he was and already making arrangements. He just needed to wait it out. “That’s right you heard the good Doc.” He scoffed. “Not like that other one making promises and not delivering.” The Joker awaited the door to move. “Oh by the way anyone got the time???” The Doctor lifted his wrist and remarked. “It’s twelve thirty, You’ve got thirty minutes to shower change and return here under armed guard. You better not waste it.”