The air seemed to grow colder as Harleen took a few more steps towards the glass. She had been told earlier to not get so close but she just had to see Gotham's most notorious clown. If she could just find a way to crack him.... Upon arriving she had been told of the numerous doctors he had been through. Most being killed or driven to insanity them self. It would take years of proving herself to even get just one session with him but she was determined. Watching him she could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand on ends and although an unbreakable glass separated them, she was terrified. "Dr. Quinzel stay away from the glass." She heard the firm voice of her boss Joan say as Harleen tore her eyes away from the Joker. The light click of her high heel shoes filled the hall as the two continued on the tour. Harleen heard nothing else Joan said, for the rest of the tour she was watching the other maximum security prisoners as she passed by. However her mind was still on that psychotic clown.

At least he had been allowed to bring in a few books. The dim lighting that illuminated his room wasn't exactly ideal for reading, yet he supposed he should consider himself lucky they had let him bring in the books at all. Very few patients were allowed such privileges - but then again, Jonathan Crane wasn't just a anyone.

It was surprising that he heard the voices above the ever-present screams. A young woman's voice, different from the other one, which he had heard many times before. No, this one almost sounded.. Inexperienced. He couldn't help himself as he pushed his glasses up, sliding of the small bed to have a look through the glass, watching with interest as the newcomer looked at the Joker. Oh, he knew that look - the interest, fascination, perhaps even wonder, or awe. The woman was ordered to step away from the glass, however, and Crane decided the fun was over for now. With a small sigh, he settled back on his bed. "Frailty, thy name is woman," he quoted in a low voice, a small chuckle escaping his lips.

Edward sat in his cell, completely deaf to the outside world as he wrote something on a piece of paper. Green-colored and roughly painted question marks dotted Edward's little room, the number of them increasing daily. They've begun to pile up on each other, but he knew it was a necessary evil when he had such a small canvas to display his brilliance on. It has been only about 15 minutes since he watched Dr. Quinzel pass by his room, escorted by a few guards. Just as she got closest to his cell, Edward had stood up and clicked his tongue at her as he casually grabbed on to his bars. "Well, well, well. Question: When are you going to visit me, hmm?"

She turned her head to look at him, and he flashed a crooked smile, just before she continued to walk out of his sight. Drab little Arkham being given new help. Wonderful! I wonder who she's off to visit? No matter. I'll prepare a new game, just for the occasion. Where was my..? Ah, yes.

15 minutes later, Edward continued to jot down ideas for his fun, new mind game, as the biggest of his painted question marks towered over him, almost symbolically forcing the question, "What is The Riddler thinking?"

"My word?! Where's the little chocolate on my pillow!" This aristocratic voice keeps barking at the occasional passer by. "I don't know why I keep coming here! The Bell-boy hasn't delivered my luggage yet, the food could have been made in the bins outside, service couldn't be more grim if you tried!" He stood up from the chair and looked out into the hall.
"Its like you missed me around here! Are your miserable little lives suddenly feeling a little more empty with out me? Awwww....I'm touched! I really am. I'll just have to give you more of a laugh next time." As he talked and talked through the thick glass, scratch and grubby. He wasn't getting anyone looking. Just moving along like ticking-time bombs on Scalectrix Tracks. Just walking around the same places over and over and over and over and over and over until.
"Is anyone going to take my complaint down?" Apparently not. "I'll throw a TV out a window!" Then a doctor took notice of him.
"Ah! Finally!" Unfortunately, she couldn't really hear him. "What are you going to do about it? Hmmmmm?" A low grin pull at his white features before she walked away. He watched her.
"I still wonder why I come back!" He looks up to Ivy's plants getting a slight look at her leg.

Ah! Single life!

It wasn't long before Harleen was shown to her new office and left alone to sort through her things. In the office sat a rather large desk atop it a computer, and an office chair behind it. Across from the desk sat a rather fancy looking couch and a file cabinet. Walking over to the desk she took a seat opening all the drawers in it. Every one of them were empty except one which held a single joker card. The doctor who had this office before had fallen prey to one of the Joker's evil plans. She assumed this card had been intended for him and she wonder rather or not he had ever saw it. Setting the card on top of her desk she began filling the desk with random items she would need. After she had finished she picked up her clipboard which she had sat on top the desk. It had a few names of patients that were not at all dangerous or in the least bit exciting but she had to work her way up somehow.

It was about lunch time when Joan knocked on her office door and then promptly entered. "Harleen how are things going so far?" She asked but her tone made it obvious that was not the reason for her visit. "Just fine. Uhh... Joan is something wrong?"

"Harleen I understand that you have spoken to Mr. Crane before am I right?" Her tone was much to serious and how she had known that Harleen couldn't figure out. "Yes that's correct but it was before he.. ended up here." It was weird speaking about him as a patient and not a Doctor. Harleen had met Dr. Crane while she was still in school. He would often come and give speeches, and her being the excellent student she was had attended every one of them. Honestly he was one of the few that had actually respected her and he had been somewhat of an inspiration at the time. "Well his Doctor was recently attacked by another patient and while Mr. Crane has been seeing him for a while now they seemed to have had no progress. Harleen I know this is only your first day but we are very under staffed and Mr. Crane is due for a visit tomorrow afternoon." As she spoke she picked up Harleen's chart looking over it quickly. "Sure I would love to do a session with D...Mr. Crane."

"Normally this wouldn't have happened but well...Mr. Crane is one of our more calm patients so as long as you keep it simple I'm sure you'll do fine." She sat down the clip board and headed for the door turning back right before exiting "Oh and Harleen I want you to report to me before and after your session tomorrow. Two fifteen sharp."

She waited for Joan to completely leave the room before she began jumping up and down. How about that the first day and she already has a meeting with Mr. Crane himself.

Alexei Sakhalin laid his head back against the pillow, and gave a sigh; it gained an eerie, muffled quality as it passed through the gas mask. When one got around his area of the asylum, it became deathly quiet. It had not been this way before the infamous madman killer had been incarcerated here; but the prison guards quickly noticed that soon after Alexei arrived at Arkham, every inmate near him simply stopped making noise. Most of them cowered on the wall farthest away from Alexei's cell. No one knew what happened, no one asked, and Alexei wasn't telling. He had always loved to have his peace and quiet, ironic as it was for someone like him.

"A new therapist, eh..." he mused to himself. He had the slightest accent, hinting at origins in Northern Siberia. "Or psychologists. Whatever. I like psychologists." He smiled widly, and lifted himself off the bed, viewing the area outside his cell through the tinted plastic of the eyeholes of the gas mask.

There was a knock on the glass of his cell. Annoyed, he looked up from his book. He had reached a very interesting part of it, to be honest, and was not at all happy to be disturbed. "Yes?" he said calmly. He was, perhaps, one of the calmest patients - not counting his Scarecrow persona - but even Dr. Crane himself had a few issues.

"Mr. Crane," the nurse began. He raised an eyebrow, holding up a finger to remind her. "I mean, doctor, of course," the nurse corrected herself. Though he wasn't technically a doctor here anymore, he would be damned if they could take his title away from him completely, after so many years of studying and building up his reputation.

"Your therapist is.. Unavailable for quite some time. They've assigned you a new one. Dr. Harleen Quinzel," the nurse explained.

The corner of Crane's mouth twitched as he stood, looking at the poor nurse over his glasses. "That's very interesting," he said quietly. He remembered the name, of course. Harleen was hard to forget - a smashing blonde beauty, and a brain to go with it. This could really prove to be most fascinating. He cared little for the previous therapist, the man had no sense of style and kept poking in the wrong places to get information out. No, this was definitely an improvement. "When would she like to see me, then?"

Poison Ivy inspected her new and improved cell. The door was completely airtight, none of her pheromones could get through that door now. If it wasn‘t for that one small vent she wouldn‘t be able to breath. Her first and seemingly final attempt to escape by bending the frail male mind of her psychologist wasn’t entirely successful. The guards well informed of her powers had taken the keys away from the good doctor so all he could do is whimper as he failed Poison Ivy’s instructions. That was weeks ago now.

She looked to the grey walls and to her sickly orange prison suit. How she wished to be among her plants again. She missed the vines and leafs that used to hug to her every curve. But for Poison Ivy, giving her even one plant would allow a swift escape. With her two biggest powers neutralised, she was racking her brain on a way to escape. Before she was able to formulate a plan the doctor from before came in front of a glass. He was so prideful, it made her sick. Poison Ivy much performed him whimpering like last time, but this blasted airtight door would prevent that.
A crackle from the intercom system they had installed was followed by the doctors loathsome voice. “Miss Isley, after much thought I have come to the decision that I am unable to treat you” Ivy stared at the bold pompous man saying nothing “Your hate for men is making you a unworthy patient for most of our staff” Ivy’s eyebrow shot up slightly at the word “most”. She stared harshly at the doctor and spoke softly “What? All you big strong men can’t handle a frail woman like myself” she smiled a wicked grin. “Erm, quite. Well I’m sure that you will be happy to here that we have a new female doctor. Weather or not she will be willing or able enough to treat you has yet to be decided. That is all” the doctor hastily walked away. It was clear he was still uneasy around Poison Ivy.

Ivy chuckled to herself at the thought of a female doctor. Times really were starting to change if these ignorant men would allow a woman to work as a doctor in a place like this. She could only guess that this new doctor was smart, motivated and courageous to work in this place with a nearly all male staff and inmates/patients.

Harvey sat atop his cot, head and shoulders stooped over his knees as he looked at the plain gray slate of his cell's floor. Unlike the other rooms in the ward, his was dark as the lone bulb set into the ceiling was shut off. He had screamed and hollared the first night he was put in, and the orderlies finally acquiesced to his demands and shut the light off. He couldn't stand the starch white walls of his cellroom, much preferring the shadowy gray of the dark.

He heard the approach of two female doctors, as well as the sound of their inane voices, but he ignored it all. He didn't care what went on in this lunatic asylum. It could all burn, taking all the crazies and doctors with it as far as he was concerned. He had already decided that he was going to escape, and once Harvey Dent decided on something then he was going to follow through until the bitter end.

The thumb of his right hand ran a calloused tip over the metal of his coin, first over the smooth, polished side and then over the rough, damaged side. He kept the coin with him always, as he knew that soon it'd be time to use the coin again, to decide the fate of others.

Two Face lifted his head up, his eyes taking in the scene outside his cell. All it would take is for the doctors or orderlies to make one mistake. One was all he needed, and then he'd be free...

(I have no exact idea of the Batman time line but I'm going to guess that the incident with Killer Croc and Cash is before he invention of Harley Quin.)

The door rattles with the pounding against it. Aaah! Only one person would and could knock hard enough to wake half of Arkham.
"Joker! Meds and food. Don't keep me waiting!"
"Cassshh!" He said, the chalky skin moving towards the clear screen. He looked to the side as though trying to see where a train was heading. The black security guard was almost visible. "Your still here? Its nice to see the disabled able to find work in an otherwise competitive work. I really would shake you by the hand. I'll wait for you to screw it in." The red-lined smile widens to let out a giggle. Cash casts a powerful image in front of the clown. His flat nose; his lowered, heavy brow; the massive shoulders morphed the Guard into a bull momentarily.
"Shut it clown! Eat and take your meds! Doctor will arrive shortly!"
"Sheesh Cash! What got into you? A little cheering up is what you need. I'll happily help."
"No! Your going to stay nice and quiet. No more of your low-blows!"
"All right, all right! I swear Croc ate your sense of humour too!" The smile stayed intact. "You gotta hand it to Croc, on a platter in your case! Hee-hee-hahahahaahaahahoooooowee!"

The next thing Harley knew her face was buried in mounds of paper work on Jonathan Crane or Scarecrow as his alter ego liked to be called. Her elbows were perched on the desk, her hands in her hair which she felt like pulling out at this point. Her new patient had been diagnosed with everything from dissociative identity disorder to post traumatic stress disorder. He was also on quite a ride range of medications that seemed to be used more so for the safety of the staff than for his own well being. Just how the hell was she suppose to learn anything from these notes? Pausing for a second she stared at the window wonder which patient had gotten a hold of his last doctor. Looking back to the empty coffee cup which sat on the desk she picked it and her clipboard up, deciding to take a small break and visit the staff lounge. As she got closer to the staff room she could hear two male doctors talking. One voice she recognized as Dr. Pwloski's, just today he had been newly assigned to the Joker and she had been waiting to congratulate him. However right outside the door she dropped her clipboard and as she reached to pick it up she caught wind of their conversation.

"Seen the new doctor yet? She sure is something."
"Yeah Dr.Arkham must have a real things for blonds. Wonder how long they've been hooking up?"
Harleen was horrified and was mere seconds to running back to her office and crying her eyes out. Instead, she decided to stand back up and take a deep breath before pushing the door open. Both men went silent but had the same stupid grin on their faces. "Excuse me boys." She said pushing past them to reach for the coffee pot and pour herself another cup. Then adding a couple packs of sugar and stirring it she turned to both men "Sorry I didn't mean to ruin the stimulating conversation you boys were having." She gave a slight smirk as she walked on out and back into her office. Once inside she locked the door and went back over to her desk burying her face in her hands as she fought back tears. No one ever took her seriously. She had tried just as hard as they did and all they wanted to do was put her down because of her age and looks. After a little while she took out her compact mirror and re-fixed her makeup that had smeared. Putting it back into her purse she heard a knock at the door and opened it to find a male doctor who looked to be in his 30's.

"Umm.. Doctor Quinzel my name is Dr. Skelts...I am Miss. Isley's doctor." The man seemed a bit bothered by something but Harley went ahead and motioned for him to step into her office. "Well its very nice to meet you Dr. Skelts... is there anything I can help you with?" She spoke in the best professional voice she could. "Actually there is... you see Miss. Isley isn't too fond of men and I know you just started here but I think it would benefit her greatly if she could do a session with a young female doctor." Harleen nodded trying her best to hide her enthusiasm. "What about Joan?" She asked remembering how reluctant Joan was to give her Dr. Crane. "I've already spoken to her and she agreed to it as long as I monitor everything. Which means you will be in a room with a two way mirror." Pretending to be thinking about it for a moment Harleen then nodded quickly "Sure I'll be happy to help" She said with a big grin. "Alright I know you have a meeting with Jonathan Crane tomorrow too so Joan has relieved you from all other patients." He then stood and shook her hand before heading to the door. "Just do your homework and see me tomorrow after your meeting with Mr.Crane."

Harleen soon left her office intending on getting all the information she could on Dr. Crane and Miss. Isley.

(Whoops accidental posted twice >.< Btw sorry for the extremely long posts)

There was a sound coming from the end of the hall, signalling that the patients had to get ready. Soon, a gang of nurses arrived, ready to escort them to the activity room. Crane was reluctant to put his book down, this being the third time that day he was disturbed. He still stood up as they entered his cell, only smiling gently as they brought him down the hall, and through the asylum to the large, and heavily guarded, room.

It didn't take him long to find his trustworthy seat, crossing his sickly thin legs, bringing his book back up to peer at the words over his glasses. Silently, he wondered who killed his previous doctor. Though he was slightly unsure if he wanted to batter the individuals head in or shake their hand.. No matter. Whomever it was had certainly done him a favour. It would be most satisfying to have a session with Harleen Quinzel instead of the other blabbering idiot - to see how far she had reached in contrast to when they first met. He had certainly changed a great deal, and he couldn't help but to wonder if she had done the same.

The deep husky growls and shouts of the mass of men getting escorted out of there cells sicken Poison Ivy very much so. Just the thought of all of them in that activity room altogether gave her unpleasant shivers. Poison Ivy did resent the fact that she was confined only to this cell, but sometimes it had its perks. She gave a heavy sigh sat back down on the hard wooden chair. The chair, books and a bookshelf were the only things allowed in her cell. It annoyed her that the only three things she was allowed just happened to be made from trees.

With a board look on her face Ivy used her finger to browse through the books. She had read them all but the doctors ignored her demands for new ones. I guess that was the down side of being feared by men. Finally Ivy decided to pick up a book about gardening. It was the nearest thing to her interests and she had read it many times. In truth it was actually a very dull book. Ivy wish something interested would happen soon. She felt like this place was driving her over the edge. Ironic how this place is suppose to cure her, when all it has done is make her even more hateful.

The shackles were a bit much, but Harvey supposed they couldn't be to careful. After all, he did break the collarbone of one of the last guards to escort him into the activity room.

Activity room. Hah. What a joke. It was nothing but a plain white room with a bunch of junk in it, not to mention that it was watched on all sides by riot guards armed with shotguns. In other words, it was just another cell; only this one, the animals got to comingle.

The orderlies took off the shackles once they were safely within the confines of the activity room, and Harvey rubbed at his wrists in irritation. His blue eyes glanced about the room, and saw that the sole occupant (aside from the guards) was Jonathan Crane.

"The Scarecrow," Harvey muttered. He knew all about the infamous Dr. Crane, as he had been the ADA who had prosecuted him. It had been a pretty easy and straight-forward case, as the Batman had provided a ton of evidence against the doctor, implicating him in various sorts of criminal activity ranging from drug possession to the manufacture of a weapon of mass destruction. But of course, Crane pleaded insanity and was sent to a cushy padded room in Arkham instead of cellblock in Stonegate. It was too bad, too. A pretty boy like Crane would've been popular with the inmates in that hellhole.

The scarred patient thought to himself for a moment, then took out his coin. He flipped, catching the item in mid-air before slapping it down atop the back of his other hand. The burnt side came up. The corner of his lip from the good side of his face twisted up.

Harvey strode over towards Crane's corner, grabbing a chair from a nearby table and dragging it through the room until he was in front of the former psychiatrist. He maneuvered the snagged chair in front of the doctor, before seating himself atop of it. After a few moments of silent contemplation, Harvey spoke up.

"Hey, Doc. It's been a while." His voice was a bit raspy and rough, as he had not spoken to anyone in quite a few weeks. "How've you been?"

He noticed someone sitting down, but decided to ignore it. Interesting or nay, he would not be disturbed for a fourth ti-

"Hey, Doc. It's been a while." His voice was a bit raspy and rough, as he had not spoken to anyone in quite a few weeks. "How've you been?"

Looking up, it took him a few seconds to recognize the ex-attorney. The very same that put him here. Still, no hard feelings. No matter how you looked upon it, Arkham was ten times more comfortable than Stonegate - not to mention familiar, and seeing how far gone his mind had been at the time, it was surprising his lawyer managed to defend him at all.

He took a note of the scars. Of course, he had already read about Harvey's accident, but the newspaper didn't exactly elaborate on the details. How fascinating, one side of him mutilated almost.. perfectly. He wondered what had put the politician here. What deep, dark, secrets did Harvey Dent hide from the public?

"Better than you, by the looks of it," he answered, almost jokingly. "And yes, it's been quite some time since we last met. Though, I'll admit that I wasn't very pleasant to you at the time. I'm better now, luckily," he couldn't help but studying the scars again. It was probably rude to stare, yet the other madman had to be getting used to it by now. "How are they treating you, here?"

(It's difficult to write a long post during conversations..)

"Activity room time, comrade."

A mocking voice pierced the silence of Alexei's cell--he pulled himself up to a sitting position and glared irritably through the gas mask at the prison guard. This guard annoyed Alexei greatly--he called Alexei comrade because Alexei was Russian, he spoke with a mocking, childish tone. He was lucky to still be alive. The guard stood outside the prison cell, as if he expected Alexei to open the door himself. Alexei muttered something about where the guard could stick his activity room, and shuffled to his feet. The guard gave a smirk. "There we go," he crooned as he unlocked the cell door and stood aside. "Just watch yourself later," Alexei snarled. At least this guard was sensible. The last one had been stupid enough to actually reach over and try to remove Alexei's gas mask from behind--Alexei looked down at a suspicious, wide, faded red streak across the floor and smiled.

"Alright, here you go, half an hour," the guard shoved Alexei into the room.

"Better than you, by the looks of it,"

Harvey ignored Crane's jibe, though his darker side shouted at him to punch the little freak's face in.

"And yes," the former psychiatrist continued, "it's been quite some time since we last met. Though, I'll admit that I wasn't very pleasant to you at the time. I'm better now, luckily,"

The scar-faced patient almost snorted at that. Not likely, he thought to himself in disgust, though he kept his face(s) blank.

"How are they treating you, here?"

"Like garbage," Harvey replied, almost spitting the words out. "I cleaned up this miserable town, putting mob bosses and maniacs away," he glanced over at Crane and nodded before adding, "nothing personal," and then continued his tirade. "You'd think these people would be more greatful. But it doesn't matter, they don't see how it truly is. They don't see the big picture."

It was then that another patient was shoved into the room, this one, strangely enough, was wearing a gas mask.

Harvey glanced back at the newcomer before turning his attention back to Crane. "Humph. Who's the new guy?"

It seemed that his small comments actually angered the other man. He made a mental note of this, as it seemed Harvey had acquired a much shorter fuse than his earlier self.

"Like garbage," Harvey replied, almost spitting the words out. "I cleaned up this miserable town, putting mob bosses and maniacs away," he glanced over at Crane and nodded before adding, "nothing personal."

He smiled calmly, putting his hands up to signal that no offence had been taken from his comment. Crane did not consider himself to fall into either of these categories. In his mind, his slight descent into madness had nothing to do with his actions.

"You'd think these people would be more grateful. But it doesn't matter, they don't see how it truly is. They don't see the big picture."

No, they really didn't. But then again, in a madhouse like this, it was hard to tell which big picture Harvey was talking about. Though, he could, of course, understand the ex-attorney's frustration. Once a hero, the white knight of Gotham had fallen to the lowest of the low. After all, he was passing time by talking to a paranoid, schizophrenic, psychologist. Even though it wasn't completely out of the ordinary for the other patients to seek Crane out for a talk - he much enjoyed to fall into conversations about his previous trade.

His thoughts were cut off as a new patient entered the room. He'd seen this one before as well, having read about his arrest and transfer in the newspaper.

"Humph. Who's the new guy?" Harvey bluntly asked by his side.

Crane leaned back in his chair, happy to be a source of valuable information. "Alexei Sakhalin, Russian homicidal killer that goes by the alias of 'Psycho', I believe," he said, as if reciting it directly from a written source.

"Ah come on Doc!"
"Joker! We're going to get to the bottom of this! Now! Tell me how you got your smile!" The squat man said, his lab coat touched the ground thanks to the stool. Cash remained just outside, waiting.
"All right! Anything to get you to shut up!"
"Thank you."
"It was around Halloween. Kids fattening themselves up with the pointless begging of candy from door to door. Perverts snatching people away left right and centre and my Mother had made toffee apples. She was a strange woman. Every year, she carved a grin in the the jackolanterns instead of anything else. She was a protective woman. But I was excited because I was finally allowed to go Trick-or-treating with another of the mothers that didn't wrap me up in cotton wool. Anyway, we were walking along. One of the children was found to be missing. As we walked away to find her, another vanished. And another then that mother was grabbed with a knife to her neck. A tramp demanded all our candy but we were all running. He came after me. The only thing I could do was throw a pumpkin at him. As he burnt to death, he seemed to be smiling. Suffering put to an end..."
"I see..." The Doctor said, scribbling things down. He seemed to be drawing lines. "What was your mothers name?"
"Dr Demas Tenn." Dr Tenn looked up from his pad.
"Excuse me?"
"I like to think I'm more of a puzzle than join-the-dots!" The grin was triumphant.
"I was looking for recurring motifs in your stories."
"I'm sorry Doctor! Thank you for playing 'Analyse the Pyschosis'!" Joker stands as the door opens. "I wont let you go home empty-handed...."

After a quick trip to retrieve some medical records Harleen was on her way to the activity room, which all the maximum security patients were suppose to be in. The quickest way their of course was through the maximum security unit. Upon reaching the guards station he went ahead and waved her on past, figuring that none of the patients were going to be in their room anyways beside Poison Ivy of course. Harleen had to admit it was a bit eerie walking down the hall without a guard. However there was nothing to be scared of they were all gone right?

It wasn't long before she realized that her previous thought was wrong. There was only one cell still light and inside stood the mysterious red haired woman. Harleen stopped for a second watching silently as Ivy read. Why was she the only one still here? She pondered wondering just how she was going to learn about her socially if she couldn't see her interact with the other inmates. Before long Harleen realized she was staring and well most people didn't like that so she left finally reaching the guard room which watched over the activity room.

"Hello I'm Mick you must be the new doctor." the guard who was watching the monitors introduced himself shaking Harleen's hand. Nodding Harleen answered "Yes I'm Dr. Quinzel nick to meet you Mick. I was wondering if I could observe one of my patients activities here. I'm newly assigned to his case so I need all the info I can get."
"Sure pull up a seat. You can see the whole room from this camera here."
Harleen sat down watching the small tv screen with the camera closes to Dr.Crane. "Mick..do you know why Miss. Isley is still in her room?" she asked before taking a small sip of coffee. Mick gave out a small laugh and then turned to Harleen. "It probably has to do with the fact that she has tried to control almost every guy in this place to help break her out." Giving just a small nod Harleen went back to sipping her coffee and watching the villains of Gotham mingle.

Poison Ivy had given up on reading the gardening book and instead picked up a book titled “The Art of Being Feminine”. She chuckled at the poorly written sexist book. Ivy had neglected to read this one until now, but broaden had driven her to it. As she turned the page she noticed a blond slender female doctor. Ivy gave her a slight look. The female doctor was looking right at her.

After a few award moments the young doctor walked away. Ivy silently closed her book and spied on the doctor as she walked on. “Hmm, so that’s the new Doctor then. Blond none the less” Ivy thought to herself as she started to smile. There was something about that doctor. She was so made up. Probably the prettiest thing in this place, well apart from Poison Ivy of course. “Smart and good looking. Well aren’t you a lucky one” Ivy muttered to herself. Poison Ivy returned to her book. All the time her head fill of thoughts on what this new doctor was like.

Harvey continued making small talk with the former doctor, if only to fill the time and
alleviate the horrendous boredom his days in Arkham were filled with. In his previous life,
he had always been a workaholic. He lived busy days with little to no free time, as he
worked with Jim Gordon and the Batman to rid Gotham City of the vile and corrupt. Sitting
around and doing nothing was sheer torture for him, and how he longed to get away
from these disgusting white walls and out into the world outside where he could continue his
work.

A few minutes later, the guards led a well muscled, brutish looking patient into the
activity room. He looked to be in his early 30's and had a tribal tattoo covering the right
side of his face. Harvey instantly recognized him; he was Antony Scappelli, one of former
mob boss Carmine Falcone's enforcers. When Falcone ran the Italian syndicate of Gotham's
criminal underworld, Scappelli was one of his most ruthless dogs. He was responsible for six
murders that law enforcement knew about, and perhaps numerous more. Dent's office had him on
trial for two counts of those murders, but Falcone's high priced lawyers, not to mention
testimony by Dr. Jonathan Crane himself, had allowed Scappelli to escape Stonegate's grasp
and be placed inside Arkham Asylum instead.

"Well now," Harvey directed a fierce glare at the newcomer. "Looks like it is a small world." He looked over at Crane as he stood from his seat. "See you later, Doc. I need to take care of something."

The former District Attorney moved over to the card table where Scappelli had just seated himself. The tattooed man was dealing some cards to some other patients, all of whom glanced up in fright when Harvey stalked behind the mob enforcer.

Scappelli, sensing someone behind him, looked back. He flinched upon seeing Harvey's hideously disfigured face, but quickly recovered and gave the former DA a smirk. "Hey, counsellor! Long time no see. Hah, you ain't lookin' too good."

The other patients at the card table quickly stood up and moved away; they were familiar with the scarred man's quirky behavior.

"Really?" Two Face asked and pulled his coin out of his orange jumpsuit's pocket, then flipped it.

Burnt side up.

"Well, my face is gonna look a lot better than yours in a few seconds." With that, the former District Attorney grabbed a nearby chair, which had just been vacated by one of the card players. He swung it quickly in a wide, overhead arc, then slammed the metal, Swedish-designed furnishing right into Scappelli's surprised face. The force of the blow sent the mobster to the floor, upon which Two Face continued to bash his face in with the chair. Eventually the chair broke apart, but that didn't stop him as he used two of the legs to continue his assault.

Eventually, the guards had moved through the crowd of patients that had gathered and cheered on the display of vicious violence, aiming their shotguns at the former DA and ordering him to stop. When he didn't, two of the braver guards rushed forwards and tackled him, but the enraged Two Face wouldn't go down. Four guards now held back his arms, while he continued to kick at the still, bloody corpse of the now almost headless Scappelli.

The guards eventually managed to restrain him, clamping restraints on his wrists and ankles as they dragged the ex-DA away. Two Face continued to snarl and scream like a rabid animal, struggling with his bonds and still trying to get at Scappelli's body. The activity room was finally quiet when the guards exited, dragging away the scarred man with them.

Dr. Crane was more than happy to continue the conversation, trying as best he could to have Harvey talk about himself, rather than anything else. No matter his position, he would always be more interested in people's minds than the local news, or even the weather. He noticed Scappelli as he followed the other psychopath's gaze, wondering slightly how Dent would react to this.

"Well now," Harvey directed a fierce glare at the newcomer. "Looks like it is a small world." He looked over at Crane as he stood from his seat. "See you later, Doc. I need to take care of something."

"Any time, Mr. Dent," he replied, watching as the man made his way over to the other's table. Just then, the nurses made their way in to start handing out the daily meds - having found that patients often made less of a fuzz about it when they were in a more.. Comfortable area. He accepted the small cup given to him by one of the nurses, frowning slightly as he went over the pills, recognizing pretty much all of them from size, colour and shape. He mumbled something about "most certainly not showing any signs of that," ignoring the nurse sighing heavily next to him, waiting for the doctor to swallow his medicine.

He almost thanked the higher powers as Dent commenced his beating of Scappelli, taking the nurse's focus of himself for some time. The pills were slipped into a different cup standing on the tray, giving him just enough time to lift it up to his mouth, pretending to have eaten them when the nurse looked back at him. He wanted to have a clear mind when he met up with Dr. Quinzel - one day to let the drugs leave his system. That was all he needed.

Now, he could focus on more interesting problems. Like the new person - Psycho. In mere seconds after Harvey was dragged out of the room, Crane walked up to Alexei with a polite smile. "Good morning, Mr. Sakhalin. How are you enjoying the new scenery?"

Alexei watched the scene unfold with mild interest. The vicious attack, beating in the man's head and face, hadn't made much of a mess, really--but points for the overall brutality. He had said nothing during Dent's fierce attack, but merely observed with the interest of someone who was rather bored and had found something mildly amusing to preoccupy himself with.

As Dent's snarls and shouts slowly faded into the distance as he continued to struggle being dragged away, nurses entered the activity room to distribute the patients' pills and medicine. Alexei alone, it seemed, was ignored, though a few nurses cast fearful glances back at him. He would have given them his version of a friendly smile if they could see it--though that would probably serve to intimidate them even more than the black gas mask that drew their attention.

At that point, however, Alexei's attention was diverted by the sound of a voice speaking to him. Alexei turned to see that it was Jonathan Crane--or the Scarecrow, as Alexei heard, though he had heard precious little else. "There wasn't much blood or gore..." he spoke as if they were discussing tulips or cars; his voice had a mild accent. "But the body's nice. I need to ask if they can put it in my cell as a decoration."