Insanity Contained [Jeremiah Arkham]

[Joan Leland]

The halls of Arkham filled with screaming again and Dr Leland didn't look up from her work. There wasn't even the bat of an eyelid to the maniacal laugher that followed and no attention was given to the slamming of doors and obscene shouting as Joan sat at her desk and focused on writing up a report from her notes on a subject.

It wasn't until two orderlies dragged the yelling man in the straitjacket along the corridor past the open door to her office that she even spared a glance to see who it was this time. One of newer patients. She couldn't recall his name, he wasn't one of the higher profile criminals but most importantly he wasn't her patient. It happened all the time at Arkham Asylum, she knew exactly what went on around the place but no matter her thoughts there was nothing she could do, she'd learnt to pick her battles more wisely over the years. With practised ease that would try and probably fail to guilt her later Joan turned a blind eye and returned to her work.

[applepoisoneer]

The soft clop of Dr. Jeremiah Arkhams worn-in wingtips could be heard coming down the hallway. He noticed hat the orderlies were having trouble with the screaming man, but it didn't even phase him anymore. After years and years of treating the mentally ill had left him rather impassive and out-of-touch with the more low-key cases. Screaming and killing were nothing compared with murderous intent.

Dr. Arkham poked his head into Dr. Leland's office, holding a cup of black coffee and a clipboard. "Good morning Miss Leland." He greeted rather casually.

[Joan Leland]

Joan's mind automatically corrected the greeting to 'Doctor Leland' as she looked back up from her work again to see Dr Arkahm in the doorway but much like when a patient wouldn't use her title she avoided openly correcting Jeremiah. Whether the reason was on purpose or accidental there was no sense in correcting people over the small detail, it only made it look like she cared about it. "Good morning Doctor Arkham" she returned with slightly more formality but also a polite, somewhat false smile.

Dr Leland gestured a hand back past the door as if she were indicating towards the screaming man "One of yours?" she questioned with some genuine curiously, closing the report on her desk. She'd pick up where she left off later when the boss wasn't there "Is there anything I can do for you sir?" quickly stepping on to working out the reasoning if there was any for the stop by her office. His cup of coffee did prompt her to remember her own cup was empty though, another thing to be solved later.

[applepoisoneer]

"The man in the hall isn't mine." He mused, looking back to the kicking feet rounding the corner. "A simple but violent schizofrenic from the look of him. I thought perhaps he was your charge." The man made the mental correction, but displaced the man's face as being unimportant. "Actually I've come to retrieve a file from you. A Mr. Maxwell Edison. The front desk had thought you'd taken it, perhaps by mistake." The level if irritation in his face seemed to rise. "I'm growing rather impatient with the level of mistakes being made here... this is most certainly not the place to be lax with anything; records, regulations, privileges. You know what I'm saying Dr. Leland?"

He looked the woman from head to waist and waited patiently for her response and the file, if she had it. If she did not, that meant that he would have to go on a hunt, and this wouldn't bode well for those operating up front. Perhaps he'd have them examined too. The thought made him smile a little internally.

[Joan Leland]

"Dr. Kerton's work perhaps then" Joan files away the man in her mind in case it should come up again but like Jeremiah currently considers it unimportant. The mention of Mr. Edison's file causes a small pause though and she glances across her desk as if she's trying to remember it's location rather than weighing up her options "No mistake, the symptoms shown in one of my patients, a Mr. Drale, appeared similar. I was simply comparing the cases as I decided upon an appropriate course of action" true enough or she wouldn't straight away give the name but any excuse to check up on the work of other doctors.

The file is produced from one of the piles on her desk within seconds and she finally she stands from her desk to walk it over to him "I assure you there's been no mistake this time, I was intending to return it to the front desk within a few minutes, as soon as I'd finished writing up Mr Drale's case" of course she would have preferred if no one had noticed the absent file, it draws attention and she certainly doesn't want to draw Dr. Arkham's attention if she's mildly prying into his work but she won't land the front desk in trouble without cause, unlike them she's not afraid of Jeremiah.

[applepoisoneer]

Dr. Arkham's face was still the portrait of a stern mountain, but the slight jerk of his facial muscles and glint in his eye could assure anyone who was looking intently that he was not amused. None-the-less, he took the file and thanked Dr. Leland for returning it to him.

He supposed that if she were looking to his work for guidance as to how to treat her own patient, than perhaps he was getting through to her. Perhaps she would even pick up his methodology after a good stay here. As of this moment, he knew how she operated, much like the others. Standard, standard, standard. She was a very effective psychologist with a good success rate, which is why she was still in an office at Arkham. Though Jeremiah couldn't help but think that giving her one or more of the high-profile genuine insanity cases would be like tossing her into a den of wolves. He'd made that mistake before... and it led the the addition of another costumed criminal on the streets of Gotham.

"If you'd like," He began. "I can return this to you after my session with Mr. Edison is complete. Of course, if it provides you with anything you could use, please do. Just let me know next time so that I don't have to go hunting for it please."

[Joan Leland]

Dr. Leland studying someone else's notes certainly doesn't mean she's going to follow their practices. They say there's something in the water in Arkham that effects all the psychologists, Joan might have been tainted with a more than healthy dose of scepticism towards people but she's no Harley Quinn and remembers what happened to her with deep regrets. It makes her even more determined to resist the chipping away of her morals and she still retains a lot of her good qualities. If the day comes when she believes electrocuting someone is a good idea though then she just hopes she's not too far gone to realise it's time to leave.

Joan returned to her desk just long enough to gather a couple of files and her empty coffee cup "It's quite alright, I can remember the relevant details. Had I known you had a session with Mr. Edison today I wouldn't have taken the file to begin with. The front desk seemed under the impression that it would be fine" returning towards him and the door she's leaving her office as well, she pauses though, thoughtful "I would however be interested to see Mr. Edison's progress so far and how he's reacting to the treatment, if it would be permitted?" she considers that she's probably pushing her luck to get a live show of what's going on and resorts to subtle flattery before he can refuse, adding in a hint of a smile "I know I rarely get a chance to see you at work but it's always been fascinating"

[applepoisoneer]

A very faint grin played on the rough contours of Dr. Arkham's face Perhaps the woman was leading him along, but if so she had little to nothing to gain from it. He was unsure what she was up to, but willing to play along so long as she did not interfere with the treatment of a patient.
"I have no problem with your observations. I can bring Mr. Edison to the learning office where you can watch from the two-way mirror if you like. But please mind your manors."
He continued his walk toward his office where Maxwell was most likely waiting with an orderly.

[Joan Leland]

Joan mentally curses at the grin though her face remains the same small smile. Clearly the flattery wasn't subtle enough. Sure it was handy to have some small advantage over the man and a way to manipulate him and she certainly wanted to use that advantage if she could but she never wanted him to notice. She wasn't sure if the consequences for that were worth it if he accidentially came to the conclusion that she actually liked him. Mental shudder.

Being stuck behind a mirror wasn't her preferred idea but there were some advantages, for instance he wouldn't see her reactions and she could make notes. She followed him out of the office, locking the door behind her "Of course Dr. Arkham, that would be ideal. I'll refill my coffee on the way and meet you there. Would you like another as well?" even if the coffee did taste like burnt cardboard most of the time it was still an important tool to the running of most of the staff. She didn't have to be there to watch the orderlies dragging the man around anyway, she knew perfectly well what that looked like after the first few months, now years later and it was just a method of moving around difficult patients.

[applepoisoneer]

"No thank you Dr. Leland, I should go on ahead and open up the room. I prefer to be in-wait when Mr. Edison arrives. The door next to the main room will be unlocked for you." He shuffled on ahead to unlock the room. Something about the woman's attitude was a little suspicious, but it was a vague feeling he dismissed as a result of age and being surrounded by the unpredictability of insanity.

He arrived just as Maxwell was being wheeled in and held the door for the orderlies, then stepped in behind them. Then the orderlies stepped out of the room to stand by the door in case of trouble. Maxwell looked figity and rather agitated, not really a good time to start getting personal. Jeramiah Arkham didn't get to be head of the institute by cutting corners and being ignorant.

"Good morning Mr. Edison. Did you find your first night here at Arkham enjoyable?" He greeted formally, sitting in a chair accross from the twitchy man.

[Joan Leland]

Joan accepted his decline for a drink with a nod but continued on to the break room herself anyway "I shall be there shortly then" it took her only minutes to walk to the break room and refill her cup and head on to the room with Jeremiah and Maxwell within.

A short nod to the orderlies waiting by the door and she slipped quietly into the room next door in time to catch the first words. She paused to watch through the mirror. One night and he was showing any progress at all? That she highly doubted, certainly not when conventional practices were followed anyway. She perched upon the edge of a small table in the somewhat tiny room, placed her coffee by her side and searched out a blank page in a note book she'd kept with the files she'd carried out of her office. A pen appears from her pocket and she begins writing.

Her notes naturally focus around Maxwell and don't amount to much yet. One night in Arkham, probably not the most enjoyable night of his life. Wheeled around by orderlies, twitchy. If he weren't violent and insane though he wouldn't be in Arkham and she considered his movements to be somewhat like a caged rat looking for a way out.

[applepoisoneer]

"I understand your frustration Mr. Edison, or may I call you Maxwell?" Dr. Arkham spoke calmly and quite slowly, like a radio announcer giving instructions not to panic.

"Max, just Max... I don't like Maxwell." The man had a rather slurred english dialect and he looked at the doctor with a mixture of fear and contempt.

"Alright- Max," He repeated the name as though clarifying it. When the name hit the air, it sounded a little awkwardly still for a familiarity. "Was that your father's name? Or is it a name given to you alone?"

"It was my old man's." He hesitated and looked rather angry, as though the thought of his father brought up a rock in the pit of his stomach. "He liked Maxwell, thought it was right proper... but I don't. I just like Max."

"You and your father, did you disagree on many things?" The doctor tented his fingers and sat comfertabley watching the young man squirm.

"Y- yeah, I guess so." He became rather defensive. "What business do you have asking me that? What does my old man have to do with me... with me..."

"With you bashing that teacher's head in? And your lady-friend... what was her name again?" The gaze in Dr. Arkhams eyes intensified, as though a switch had been flipped.

The man's face contorted with pain, wracking him in his chair. He tried his best not to cry, but large thick tears puddled in his eyes. "Joan..." He moaned. "Joan, Joan! I didn't mean it Joany... I didn't mean it!" He writhed in his chair and slipped out, but Dr. Arkham let him wriggle on the floor like a trout on the deck of a ship.

"You took a hammer and repeatedly struck her in the back of the skull. The police said it was a particularly grisly murder and quite a mess. You meant to kill her Max. You meant to spread the back of her head all over, you intended to do that much..."

(Sorry I didn't switch colors for the spoken words on this one but it was extremely hard to isolate them.)

[Joan Leland]

The note taking continued silently behind the mirror in the same manor Joan might take for her own patients, aside from the fact that she couldn't ask the questions herself. Maxwell's, or as her notes corrected Max's relationship with his father clearly had a lot to be desired and to her mind at least required further questioning at some point.

The mention of the teacher didn't cause so much as the bat of an eye as Joan watches Max's reaction. The file she'd gone through went into details, the police report had certainly provided enough information and this was Arkham, everyone in here was an insane criminal, she'd heard worse.

'Joany' is the first thing to invoke a reaction, the slight raise of an eyebrow and an unimpressed look. She was mildly glad Max wasn't her patient, she considered that she might struggle to be fair with the man shouting her name all over the place. On the other hand it was just a name and a random woman who was murdered and she was an experienced psychologists to criminals.

She wouldn't have to test out her mental control over her feelings today anyway, her mind was already moving on. Certainly Max was a murderous criminal, that much was obvious but so far she had yet to see what had him committed to Arkham rather than placed in Blackgate. A sane man could brutally kill people and apparently regreat it, though given the nature of the murders she didn't out rule the possibility of him claiming insanity to get away with it. Even if many criminals did seem to prefer Blackgate to Arkham.

(OOC: No prob about the colours, can still tell what's going on!)

[applepoisoneer]

Dr. Arkham took notes but really made no effort to bring Max off the floor. If he was making progress, then who cared where he was. He watched as the man rocked back and forth and tried to reclaim himself.

"Why do you think you are here Max?" he asked, jotting something down in his notepad.

"They made me come here." The man sobbed. "They said I was mad, but I'm not mad... I'm not mad..."

"You're not mad? Then why do you think you killed those people in such a way?" The gaze from the sunken eyes was now quite engaged with him and the intensity of his stare never faded.

"I- I don't know..." Max breathed. "All I remeber is a- a banging noise. Like nails being pounded into wood... and so I used the hammer... it makes sense that way." He pounded the metal chair with his fist. "BANG, BANG BANG!" he yelled as the motion caused an equally loud metalic banging. "It wouldn't stop... until I put them out. Made them quiet again."

"This pounding, does it only occur when your stressed or upset? Or is it a constant sound? Perhaps just on the edge of hearing?" A few more notes and he set the notepad aside and folded his hands on his lap.

"When they yell at me, when they scream at me..." his voice was so quiet it could barely be heard. His breath was beginning to steady and grow very deep. He leaned against the far wall and curled himself in a ball.

"What did your father do? Occupationally speaking?" He made his way back to the topic of the man's father, where he knew he needed to prod further, but he also know he needed to tread slowly until he had the information that he needed.

"My father?" The man seemed to be comming back from a distant place adn looked rather dazed and confused, but soon returned to a rather agitated state, much like when he first arrived. "He worked on airplanes. Something like that... what difference does it make?"

[Joan Leland]

Now Joan could see the craziness quite clearly. She still set aside the idea that he could be faking it but she didn't believe so, Max seemed genuinely distressed. She looks curious as Max explained and begun banging on the chair but she paused in her note taking to reach for her coffee and sit there sipping it.

A connection to the father would tie things up nicely but she couldn't see much between hammering and planes, unless he was a mechanic. Still, a job didn't make a man, a connection could still be made. She jotted it down in her notes anyway as her attention flicked over to Jeremiah. Whatever the many rumours that went around the asylum she was beginning to become certain she wouldn't see much proof of them while she was sat there watching.