descent into madness
Maniac. Murderer. Monster.
For a man with no name, he had certainly accrued quite a few of them in his short stay at Arkham Asylum. He was a new inmate, transferred from another facility or possibly from Hell itself. She didn't know and quite frankly didn't really care to know where he came from. What she was interested in was the story of what brought him to such a low place in his mental state of health that he literally could not even remember his own name.
Oh, but he was by no means a completely nameless entity. He had come up with his own name for himself, or perhaps it had been the name that was given to him as the only way they could describe his appearance. His hair was a wild mess - vibrantly green in color, a deep contrast to the almost white of his skin, which was covered in a wide array of tattoos of varying nature and none of them making much sense.
The only name on his files was the Joker. It was surely some cruel jest at who he was as a patient, or maybe just a reference to the playing card figure, but either way she didn't like it. Before she had even met him she made the decision to offer as much respect as she could to the man and give him a chance to feel like he was a real person about. Harleen made the decision that she wouldn't call him Joker. No, he would be Mister J, for lack of no other name in which to call him.
Doctor Quinzel? A young staff member tapped her shoulder as she read over the meager files that they had on the man, her teeth chewing gently on one of her fingernails. Hm? Oh, yes. What room do you want him in? Harleen looked at the rows of doors, all with small windows very high up to offer the most privacy for doctor/patient care to be done in. They could be viewed as interview rooms or interrogation cells. Interview Room B should be available. Ill see my patient there. She said after a moment of mulling it over, as that room was one of the less decorated ones and would give her a chance to get him to concentrate on one thing and one thing only - her. Mister J was a fascinating person, not only because he was a complete mystery to her but because he was simply insane. There seemed no rhyme or reason to his actions, no discernible connection to anything at all. It was just madness. And madness was her specialty.
She wanted to dive into his mind and get a feel for him, to understand not just the illness but the person. For the first time in a long time, she was excited by her job, so ready for the new prospect that she could barely contain herself. But now was not the time to be losing herself in any means to her curiosity. Instead, she composed herself and gathered her files and empty notepads and headed to the room, taking her seat at the table. Her legs crossed beneath it neatly at the ankles and she adjusted her glasses before smiling, doing her best so that when they brought him into the room the first thing he would see is his caring, concerned Doctor Harleen Quinzel.<|im_end|>
descent into madness
He grinned as he sat in his cell, just staring at the wall. He would sit back, letting himself rest against the other wall in the small cell.
They thought they were helping "him". Pffft, they wished they were. He wasn't interested in finding his inner troubles and problems, coming to "terms" with them. He came to terms with them awhile ago and he's still the way he is. Maybe a little worse but it's sometimes hard to tell, he'd chuckle at the thought of his state of mind before he continued to stare at the wall.
Sitting in this cell just let him loose himself into his own mind more than they knew, and he loved it. His mind was a perfect world. It consumed him, it consumed others when he allowed it to. Now a doctor would sit there and say that was very very bad but he loved it and he wasn't going to fight it either.
This place was boring him to no end, he was surrounded by other crazies. The type of crazy that rocked back and forth and talked to their dead mom type crazies. There was no one like him in here that he knew of and if there was he wanted to meet them. That was unlikely though, no one was like him here, they couldn't be like him.
A knock would come to the door of his cell, he rolled his eyes. His head slowly turned as a guard looked at him. "Can I help you?" The Joker smiled lightly. The guard looked annoyed, "Get up Joker, step away from the door."The Joker stood and walked toward the big steel door. "Why's that? So you can put me in a straight jacket?...Oh wait you drug me first...." After a small pause, he laughed loudly. "I am forgetting the steps of your little procedures here. I think...I think I might be loosing it in here." He grinned at the guards face before laughing again, harder this time. He had to find his kicks in here somehow; there really was nothing else. Although what he really wanted was to put a bullet through every guard's skull. Now that would make him laugh, he'd feel good about that for sure.
"Alright, alright." He turned around, slowly putting his hands on the back of his head. He could have turned around and hit the guard but he was curious to see where they were taking him. He felt the familiar jab in his neck and the sudden darkness that overtook him.
Once he came to, he was in the straight jacket...again, still sitting in his cell. To tell you the truth, Joker dreaded being here with every ounce of his soul; he acted like he didn't mind but deep down he wanted out. He was use to so much freedom and to do as he pleased. But in here, he couldn't do any of that. He had to play by others' rules and not his own, which he wasn't dealing with very well either. He was determined to get out because if he didn't, he would surely go crazy. He didn't want to be the crazy talking to his dead mom.
It wasn't long before two guards were dragging him to his feet and then down the hall. He glanced at one of the guards; he'd kill him first.
After quite a bit of walking, they swung open a door. "New cell?" Joker smiled at the two guards but they didn't reply as they continued to drag him in. As he was dragged in and forced into a chair, his eyes set on a very pretty blonde. Right away that sinful grin crept up onto his face. He heard the door shut behind him. She must be his new shrink. A shrink he certainly would enjoy.
Much better than his last one, much better. "Hi." Joker spoke slowly as he sat back, a few moments passing. Letting his eyes examine her before he spoke again. "You are very pretty." Joker watched her expression and or body movement with each word that left his lips. His foot tapped a little as he looked around the room; it was pretty blank. "Well you know my name, now what's yours?" Again, his words were slow but deliberate. This was good; he had a chance to have some fun.<|im_end|>