It's not the trash (Open)

[lisa]

As her eyes opened she still felt pain. Her stomach made a growling noise, and her head dragged the rest of her body down back to the pillow. The bed creaked and all that made her feel better was the breeze from the fan. Strange to have a fan on during Autumn? Yes, but the only thing keeping her from going to do her "job" was her current state of mind and the warm sheets that trapped the heat in. Closing her eyes again for just some more time, birds began chirping louder and louder. They weren't even inside the house? She mumbled "Shut up please.. shut up" hoping that for her sanity and strength that they would annoy someone else not her.

"Chirp.. Chirp... Chirp!" again and again the birds talked. " Alright, I'm up.. maybe you can talk about something relevant." As she got up, her legs ached and her feet accidentally hit the bottom of the crappy bed. "Ow!" She was half awake half asleep, hair was a blonde mess covering her eyes and her shoulder.

Opening the mangled screen door, the black birds flew away faster than she realized. Her purple pajamas and cat slippers weren't enough for the unusually strong wind. Though as she was leaving she saw the white paper between the fire escape and the concrete. " A fast job done is a sloppy one." every day since the D.A. Office was closed because the feds had taken over. She hadn't talked to anyone in weeks. Not even Selina, there was no point. She had no files, no motions or orders and certainly no way of checking into the FBI database or cameras. Gordon was being unresponsive either, but he could wait.

Getting inside it was time for a hot shower. Undressing and getting into oddly shaped bathtub, the knob to the water wouldn't budge. But after three times the increments of water shot out and the soothing warm water woke up the still bored body. Surprisingly, the Feds had managed to cut off certain water and electrical supplies. It wouldn't be long until whole blocks shut off their grids or generators. That would be great, the crappy apartments with no lights, She smirked and said, "Well there is always the Bible to show me the way. Lisa you are a demonic demon who has tainted these laws." Imitating Agent Tiffany's pointing and serious body language.

[lisa]

What am I doing! She thought. Turning the knob to the left the water stopped and she dried herself off. Looking into the mirror, she just gazed her smile faded and troubled to be exact. No trials, no hammering investigations or persuasion in court. The last time she was in court was a few weeks ago. None of her cases moved to trials at Gotham, the FBI just made cold verdicts. Judges out of jobs and officers fired because of the new budget. She was thankful she had her job, but if you can't do your job in any legal manner then how do you continue. Lately, Lisa hadn't been her regular self. Strange, usually she was tough, but she seemed so much nicer. Guess it was the new attitude. Sighing she dried her hair and got dressed. The blonde in her hair was fading, now her hair was a light strawberry blonde.

Sitting on the coach she read the newspaper. New villians captured, more reports from Tiffany posted saying something about crime. How long will you be here? No comment, how will your repair the city? By getting rid of crime". Looking at the Obituary section, more names were added since last week. Many looked like they were from the projects. Still feeling uneasy she decided to make some sausage and bacon. As much as it was tasty the feeling and the headache weren't destroyed.

[Joan Leland]

She wasn't the only one feeling rather unfulfilled in work since the FBI moved in. Arkham was practically empty. The only thing to do seemed to be to get whatever files they were left with in order and wait for some slightly less dangerous people to go insane. Which with the feeling of being trapped in the city wasn't far off. Joan really had three choices that week: Go to work and worry that the more unusual of her colleges were getting worse with no patients to distract them, take up some work as a private psychologist for a while, or, take the week off and hope it gets better. If the lock down goes on much longer Arkham would probably be laying off staff anyway and she's never had such a quiet time to take a break.

A holiday would of course be better if she could go somewhere but it's given her a few days to think, see how the city has changed with the FBI and talk at length with her neighbour. It's some combination of those which has brought her to Lisa's door first thing in the morning.

It might be best to not ask how exactly Joan got the ADA's home address since she's certainly never been given it but she comes baring coffee as she knocks on the door, so hopefully a little nosing into personal details will be forgiven.

[lisa]

The knock at the door was a surprise, she hadn't expected someone to visit her. Gathering what she did, she also was lightly dressed, wearing a blue light sweater and black jeans. The floor creaked as she looked through the eyehole: It was Joan. A good surprise. As she twisted the handle, her thoughts had to be organized, her mind still thought she was working; she was always working. She spoke in a low and gravitating alto " Hey, pleasant surprise to see you?" Noticing the coffee in her hands. Oh how Lisa missed coffee, whether it be cardboard or Starbucks. She had no coffee, which was why she was sort of lazy and not upbeat as usually. The door was opened but not all the way for someone to walk in.

The smell of coffee did entice her, but taking the coffee and slamming the door would make Joan think that Lisa was some psycho, she didn't need two people telling her that she was crazy, let alone one FBI agent and some of the cops of course. Though many were intimidated by her. Now focusing back on Joan she calmly stared looking at her. She looked like she was trying to escape from the disaster outside.

[Joan Leland]

Joan waited patiently on the other side of the door gathering her own thoughts and appearing as calm as ever despite her concerns. In jeans, t-shirt and a jacket to fight the cold she certainly wasn't dressed for work but still a lack of tiredness in her expression gave the impression she'd been up for a while. Just because she was having the week off didn't mean she'd escape the odd hours she usually had on the job.

A creak inside at least let her know Lisa probably hadn't already left her place this morning, well, assuming it was hers, there was a note of doubt over the information in Joan's mind but the door opened and there indeed was Lisa. Looking a bit tired and run down Joan considered but she could smell breakfast cooking, clearly she'd come early enough to interrupt the morning routine.

Everyone was a bit crazy as far as she was concerned, but being considered a psycho by a trained psychologist would take a little more than door slamming, a moot point though as the moment Joan sees the tired look she offers one of the cups of coffee over and sounded a little apologetic "Morning. Not a bad time I hope?" not starbucks coffee but still taken from one of the many little coffee shops in Gotham, whichever one had managed to get in supplies that week, though times were tight Joan still refused to drink cardboard coffee outside of work.

[lisa]

"No, not at all". Lisa opened the door much wider and slowly took the coffee. As Joan walked in she closed the door. "Thanks for this, you really didn't have to." She had met interesting people in Gotham, some good some bad. But Joan and her seemed to hit off nicely, no arguments, no fighting, no meetings in court. Lisa had a small list of dedicated threads, and each year the numbers thinned out. People stopped talking to her since her censure*, others because of her obsessive dedication to her work. Some even thought she was a CIA Analyst undercover because of how committed, tough, and cautious she is.

Magazines were on the small table by the Couch, shoes in different corners, dust on cd's and picture frames, and some paint pealing off the walls. She felt timid. " Sorry the place looks awful, things haven't been good for this apartment or my job to be honest." She had plans to move into something nicer and actually sustainable, but she wasn't a billionaire nor was she a criminal. Gathering some of the magazines off the table, coincidentally a law magazine that she read and occasionally wrote in to the magazine, because her friend who was a Journalist in Chicago worked there.

She walked back to the couch, coffee in hand. It was around 10 o'clock, she remembered looking at the microwave after she made the sausage, which was promptly eaten. "Shouldn't you be at Arkham?" Lisa would get up early as well, check her emails, get coffee and head to the office that kept her secured.

[Joan Leland]

Joan smiled her thanks for entry through the door and walked on in, looking around as she spoke "It wasn't a problem, with supplies as they are it seemed only wise to grab the good coffee while it was available" plus it makes a good gift to bring to someone's doorstep and she needed a cup herself.

There was another smile for the apology and she stood out the way while the quick tidy up went about "It's no problem, I'm unexpected and I'm sure my place is worse" with the news of Lisa's job being effected as well Joan pretty much slips into work mode without noticing, which made her answers to questions shorter and more guarded but put aside her own concerns for now in favour of helping. Taking a seat while Lisa saw to the microwave she appears quite relaxed and even glances over a few of the magazines as she talks "Arkham's too peaceful, being practically empty will do that. I took the week off. How are you doing with everything that's going on?" it was very easy for Joan to become someone's friend usually, trying to create trust was practically part of her job. She however also found it hard to stop working and trust people herself rather than keeping them at a distance like patients.

[lisa]

The coffee tasted fine, bitter and broodful yet it was needed. Arkham being empty was surprising to say the least. The place for the criminally insane empty when many of the villians were criminally insane. She looked down, but didn't show any emotion though probably conveyed a sense of not listening, when in fact she was. " Not well. The D.A. office is closed. I'm out of a job and my bank account is running low.'' She wanted to tell Joan her opinions and projections about her feelings on the matter.

But nothing could be done. "I can't help people anymore, I don't know how long I'll last in this apartment. The power grid is failing. No power means no heat for the winter.'' Telling it as it was did not give her comfort or a relaxation. In fact it made her crinch and crunk.

[Joan Leland]

The FBI had taken over care of the insane criminals and moved them, Joan would be lying if she said she wasn't concerned what that might mean but work related or not she's had an awful lot of contact with those criminals and people who've come into contact with them tend to get questioned by the FBI and never released. She has no intention of going anywhere near the FBI by her own choice.

She sipped her coffee and appeared thoughtful, she was considering her next words carefully, the desire to help and being rather paranoid was having a little battle but she finally spoke up again "Well provided you're not allergic to cats I currently still have a job and a couch if you need a place to stay soon" desire to help wins! She can't see much of a threat with Lisa and it's difficult times.

With the talk of the power Joan glances out the window "Alright in my area but if it's cutting out I think that one may be down to the rogues, not the FBI. The FBI need the public on their side" she hopes, sometimes it didn't seem like it "not frozen to death. The rogues though, it won't be long before a few power cuts are probably the least of our worries..." he looks back to her coffee and carries on with a mutter "They're dangerous, cornered and we're all trapped inside with them"

[lisa]

Lisa's lips softly pursed themselves. The couch that she was sitting on currently felt comfortable and was good for laying down. But couches weren't invented purposefully as something to be slept on. No that was just another addded option. Beds were for sleeping and relaxing. Which was why she didn't like sleeping on a couch. " We're trapped inside a war being fought on for Justice, which is admiring and makes me happy, but the way the government is executing the said plan is really the core of the problems and only hinders the judicial system. The rogues are on the other side fighting back for the freedom. Yet we can't really end or start things between them." She sipped more of the bitter coffee and put it down on a coster.

It wasn't the fact that Lisa hated the FBI. On the contrary she liked that they got things done, the problem lay in when the FBI screwed and butted it's head into her cases. That's when she had to call in favors to push them back. She did that once and she was repremanded by the D.A. in Manhatten. She hoped that Joan understood where her opinions were stemming from. Not many people looked into her past or even asked about it, which only added to the fact that she felt like an outsider trying too hard into her job, only to come in and have the D.A. office close and the FBI take over. Though for all her legal expertise and high level of intelligence and strength, she still was trying to find her way. Walking to the kitchen she began cleaning up the oil filled pains. The water washed away the marks and the soap cleansed the metal, Lisa's unconscious was thinking that she had never fit in. The extra puzzle piece in the set that was never used. As she finished cleaning and drying off her hands on the soft towel she came back to the couch.

[Joan Leland]

Joan only had one bedroom in her flat and as such, one bed. While she could sleep on her couch herself she wasn't quite generous enough for /that/ offer. Besides, between spending some time on a friend's sofa and sleeping on the streets once the money has run out she figured the sofa was a good option. Lisa's expression suggested otherwise but she leaves the offer standing anyway as Lisa hasn't actually said whether she would need it or not.

The conversation turned and continued though and Joan made herself comfortable, resting back in her chair with another sip of her coffee before she responded "What judicial system? From the things I've heard there seems to be no judging anymore, other than from the agents...It worries me, that's not usually part of their job. I would have preferred the option to leave them to their war rather than being trapped between the two sides at the very least, though I understand their reasons for containing the city" she may not know Lisa's history but she has her own opinions and while generally she trusts the system to work she also believes sometimes it doesn't and now it seemed a little out of control.

She watched Lisa get up to return to the kitchen and she was a little concerned for the woman, something was clearly very wrong, it was just a matter of working out what. She begins to run through the usual options. Work was clearly not doing well, probably a main concern and as a consequence so was money. She certainly seemed rather down but maybe she just needed to get her mind off of it in a way that didn't involve cleaning, or maybe the sudden periods of cleaning were just because Joan was there "When was the last time you got out for a while, Lisa?" a complete change of subject but Joan's worried about her.

[lisa]

Lisa responded in a soft manner, " Not since last week, unless you count going to the Grocery store." Lisa looked at the window, gazing into the busy streets and dangerous ones for that matter. If this was New York things would be so different. She would have a secure job and plenty of people to prosecute. Lisa was good at representing the victims and giving them closure about his attackers. But she never thought that she herself would be a victim nor could she close her eyes and sleep the damage off.

"Did you have something in mind?" Lisa stood gently up and threw the empty coffee cup away. Biting her lip, she was unsure of what to express to Joan. Lisa wasn't herself, and the more she thought about the predicament, the worse the feeling felt. Lisa was strong, yet in Gotham she seemed less a force to mess with it. She had fealt weak and overly emotional about things. Over emtional for sure?

[Joan Leland]

Joan had been in the city a lot longer, it had it's problems but it was where she was at home. Between that and her job she was pretty used to looming danger, it was just a bit worse lately as the danger was growing with no sign of being resolved.

She relaxes a little since Lisa says it's only been a week, that's not quite as bad as she worried that it could be. Lisa clearly wasn't herself though and hanging around the house might not be helping matters. Joan tried to make it sound casual as she shrugged "I don't know, out. For a drink, food, some shopping, something" she sipped her coffee and considered the level of meddling she was willing to do before going ahead anyway "Or we could stay here and talk, if you'd prefer to"

[lisa]

Lisa barely smirked, more half agreeing the other half not even listening. She felt as if a massive seven hundred ton weight had been attached to her back. She couldn't move nor could she think. She was unsure of how to get out of the quicksand, the quicksand that had taken over the GCPD, closed the DA office, and take cheap shots at her record. That was the quicksand. Now being the smart yet stubborn gal she was, she was gonna fight. The current predicament was, "How? When your resources have been taken from you, your barely making it out, and your values are being tested as is your judgement like in law class, how do you get out?" It wasn't a simple question nor could it be answered in a paragraph or an inner monologue that occasionally consumed her attitute and straight-forward thinking. Her tongue was dry, her skin itchy, and worst of all her gaze without an objective. She probably looked like some sheep that had been day-dreaming. Or a sheep that had been lost and had no way of getting back home, no matter how high or how loud they yelled.

She was thinking, but she got up painfully once again to move to the bathroom. As the door awkwardly ended the brief silence between them. She looked in the mirror. This was Lisa Andrea Novak or was it? Did she look tough? Not a chance. You could tell because below her eye lids, feint black spots were appearing. Her vision would change and her through would give off the impression that water was alien to her. The only time she remembered feeling like this was when her father died.

That had been the worst time in her life, an obstacle that she thought would lead her out a window. Hope had dissappeared in her face. She had gotten an unusally high score on the bar exam, all her teachers liked her. And then BAM! A call from her mother to tell her that her father who was in the Vietnam war, who defended the country, killed himself because of depression and alcohol abuse. And as she thought back, her darkest days were here. Emerged once again, as if destiny and fate had said, "Lets bring this back to her". She looked at the sink so slowly. Blankly staring at it. Funny in a way. She had ended just like her father. Only she haden't made the choice of how she was going to do it.

[Joan Leland]

Joan remained in her chair, stuck just watching Lisa think and wander off again. She sighed, this was getting tiresome. It was almost like being back at work again and with the more difficult of her patients, the ones who wouldn't talk and tried to block her out.

Well Joan will not be blocked out. She got up and went after her, hanging in the doorway to the bathroom while Lisa was looking in the mirror "Lisa. Stop wallowing in your thoughts and pay attention. Either you start telling me what's wrong or I'm dragging you out until I at least see a smile" it felt a little harsh to her but she was firm because she cared and she knew how such things could go. Off duty or not she couldn't just leave someone alone in such obvious depression and she wasn't going to sit quietly on the couch and be ignored.