Breeding grounds of psychic epidemics. [Jeremiah Arkham]

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"Masses are always breeding grounds of psychic epidemics." - Carl Jung 

The smells of iodine and salt mingled with the scents of Roman Roses and Peonies in the well manicured garden, thankfully pushing the assembled smells of Gotham City away from the Mansion. It has been said that Metropolis sat as a shining beacon on islands and hills, while Coast City nestled along the sun kissed waters of a peaceful sea, Central and Keystone stood as silent partners on the crossroads of the world. No one ever said that about Gotham. Gotham festered, Gotham metastasized in an omnipresent press of shadows, angles, weather and industrial funk, a mix of the smell of improperly collected garbage, omnipresent crammed population and chemical runoff, the aftermath of dying industries and dying hopes. These brief respites in the hidden areas of Gotham, where the elite could shield themselves from the worst of the effects were hidden oases where a human being could forget the realities of Gotham life. For a moment, here in this garden, in bleak sunlight with Atlantic breezes, one could be forgiven for thinking that there was a calm order in Gotham, a pleasant gentleness that was worth preserving, even if it could almost be immediately seen as a facade.

The elite of Gotham had walked these paths along with the mad and deranged of Gotham, although in some ways it was hard to tell which was which. In some ways Gotham was an incestuous city of old loyalties, regrets and interests, a place that clung desperately to its curses and its rot. Outsiders found it hard to navigate Gotham, it wasn’t their city, it wasn’t their world. The Alien had tried before to understand Gotham’s ebb and flow, and could not, for he did not understand the depravity and the fears that come from human hearts and the minds of madness.




The owner of the Garden understood such things much better. The owner had dedicated a life to peering deeply into the darkness that sat in the human soul, to understanding it, to perhaps even healing it if some sources were to be believed. Some said he had a better understanding of this darkness than most, although Gotham had an industry of those who clothed themselves in the darkness of human depravity. Some clothed themselves in its fear, some in its shadows, some in its cruel ironies. The outsider in the Garden wondered idly to himself whether Jeremiah Arkham would too, in time, seek to clothe himself in the darkness laid bare of humankind that Gothamites seemed to embrace.

The visitor had faced the darkness of the human condition many times, although never with the gleeful abandon as some Gothamites. He’d seen more distant horizons and knew that, despite the impressive power of the human spirit, the worst monsters were truly beyond current context.


A polished wingtip settled on the manicured path as the Man of Tomorrow allowed his eyes to caress the flowers before him. “I understand that your time has become all the more valuable as of late, Dr. Arkham. I understand what it’s like to be burdened by the limitations of the day.” He turned to face the owner of the garden. “I appreciate you taking so much of your valuable time to meet with me personaly.”

He lets himself smile faintly. “And I understand congratulations are very much in order for your new expanded role as administrator. I knew that members of the council would eventually see reason, and I am glad to see that my hopes in them were not misplaced.”

[Jeremiah Arkham - Black Mask]

“The Japanese say you have three faces. The first face, you show to the world. The second face, you show your close friends and your family. The third face, you never show anyone. It is the truest reflection of who you are.” –Unknown

To step into the Botanical Gardens was to step into a sanctuary. There was no other place like it on Arkham Island. Here the madness of the city and the asylum ground these gardens were housed within faded away. Gone was the smell of antiseptic and dust. Honeysuckle, irises, and lilies in the foundation eradicated the odor of despair and insanity. This was the only place on Arkham Island aside from the mansion that a person could walk into and forget just where they were. They could forget the deranged that crowded the buildings around these walls and they could forget that Gotham City was just over a bridge and in the morning and depending on the winds of the day, the putrid smell of industrialization and poverty blanketed the air like a dirty blanket over a hungry child. Jeremiah Arkham knew the city he served and he knew how it was viewed by other cities. They looked on Gotham like a disease, a pox of the modern and post-modern era. It was a thing that did not die, but strived on when everyone else would turn their nose up at it.

It was admirable in that way and also sad. Gotham was home to hardy people elite and insane and sometimes they were one and the same. Close-knit and detached the city was beautiful to Jeremiah Arkham for all its flaws and deformities. It was a city his uncle had come upon and been immediately intrigued until he too became part of the luster. Gotham City was a psychological experiment of its own making and the asylum administrator stood in the middle of it all. Gotham to him was a study, a child crying out in need. So he’d taken up his gear and forged into the shadow of Gotham City like his uncle had before him.

His life had been a dedication to understanding the strange hysteria and allure of Gotham to madness and depravity. He’d stared unblinkingly into the darkness for so long that he could no longer remember when he’d first peered into it and shrank back in fear. Fear was a mind-killer. The mind-killer. He’d reached into the abyss and done what he could over and over. Yet as he’d stared into the cavern of darkness so too had that darkness peered into his soul. It had peered and come to understand him as well. The darkness of Gotham was tangible thing, a thing with intelligence. Its skeletal fingers had groped forward and Jeremiah Arkham had gone tumbling down. A new face had been affixed to him and deeper into the night he’d peered.

He’d always been one step from the clothes of midnight. And he knew the greatest monsters were creations and faults of the very humans that seemed to press on with their unintimidated spirits. We created our own worse monsters, after all.

Jeremiah leaned on his cane, both hands folded over its top. His visitor knew he was there and he knew that Jeremiah also knew he’d come. His cane wasn’t the stealthiest of instruments, though he’d spared no expense to make sure its clack was far more pleasant than most assistive devices. He smiled disarmingly at Lex Luthor when the man finally turned to face him. Then he chuckled. “A man would be wise to make time for two sorts of people, his friends and his enemies and never reveal which is which.” He calmly ambled to his guest’s side. He took in the flowers and gave a soft sigh. “It is partly your fault my personal time has become so short lately, but then again I too am to blame. Still it feels refreshing to be back in the saddle again.”

He tilted his head and the fractured sunlight camped on his face before he turned to his guest once more. “Thank you for your words. It is always the dream of a man to ascend to the place where he is merely a watcher and overseer. Still…yes, the council chose me, but Mayor Sharp was not so keen on my victory. He seemed to think Hugo Strange a better candidate, but Strange is…He is talented, but he lacks the finesse a project like this requires. He does not understand things quite the way I do.”

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Lex Luthor smiles at that, narrowing his eyes as he lets his face fall into a lazy pattern of gentle amusement. It could even be called warmth for the man. He was hard to read on the best of days. Perhaps there was a casual pride to him, an arrogance that anyone could see, let alone a trained observer of the human condition like Jeremiah Arkham. While he was here on business, and while he had set up the appointment with such an end in mind, there was something probing in the man's eyes, they looked and took things in, thinking constantly. Arkham could tell that Luthor's mind was elsewhere at the time, although the smile was practiced and did seem to have a bit of genuine emotion that might fool a lesser man. 

Luthor turned to face the administrator, "I hope you don't hold it against me. I may not have much influence in Gotham City politics, and I know that my voice was simply one among many who expressed. . . concerns about Dr. Strange's experience. There are many more fitting ways for him to apply his talents, and administration of a massive psychiatric undertaking is something you're uniquely suited to. I'm afraid that competence is its own punishment and its own reward. Those unique individuals who have the capacity to change the world, are often called repeatedly to do so, no matter what their own personal wishes on the situation." Perhaps this was a glimpse of something, it was an interesting perspective from the man. 

He shrugs as he says "But I'm merely an interested bystander in the process. I've my own concerns about the entire initiative, although I do understand the need for something to be done." Indeed, Luthor almost seemed like he wasn't entirely certain exactly how to address the project, which would explain his minimal initial response. Honestly, he's been remarkably quiet about the entire endeavor except for a few quiet comments about his trust in Dr. Arkham's ability, and how he'd need to review the data before public comment.

The Arkham City project was not considered in the top 10% of original likely scenarios predicted for Gotham city at the outset of the LexCorp Gotham expansion. Nevertheless the eventual chaotic breakdown of law and order was put within an 87% likelihood within the next five to ten years without immediate intervention, even taking into account the unpredictable and extreme nature of that Variable known only as The Batman. Luthor's people were often very good at predicting this sort of thing, and of course in ten years the entire point would be moot anyway. Still, the speed of events suggested another player behind the scenes. This Luthor had to be aware of, he was no fool. 

Arkham would know that Luthor was surprised by the announcement of the Arkham City project, Lex was not as good at hiding his emotions as he likely thought he was. He had to have been surprised. Wasn't he?  

Yet, Luthor seemed remarkably unconcerned and responded quickly, if minimally, by putting quiet support behind Jeremiah Arkham as administrator, over Hugo Strange. It was subtle, although Jeremiah would know that certain representatives of LexCorp had been seen in meetings with certain individuals in the City Council.

It was if Luthor had taken the new data in stride, and was keeping his finger in the pulse of things just out of habit rather than any particular concern for the outcome, outside of Arkham being placed in charge of the project. And again, there was something else bothering him . . . something far away that he was using this meeting to distract himself from.

Luthor puts his fingertips together and then cocks his head slightly "But then again, I'd like to see myself as a friend, Dr. Arkham. I felt nothing but admiration with the work you've done with limited resources you've had, which is one of the reasons that we were so pleased that the Metropham project was able to achieve its fundraising goals." He clasps his hands together in a fluid gesture. "But with changes to the Arkham project. . . it does beg the question of what sort of modifications must be made to the funding arrangements, and to provide support in what comes next." He starts to walk with Dr. Arkham through the botanical gardens. 

[Jeremiah Arkham - Black Mask]

Luthor smiled; Jeremiah smiled back and though he comfortably set aside his cane and instead used the railings so abundant before him and he stared in rapt attention at Luthor, it is not his words he was so struck by—of course he heard them and gave them their own set of regard. It is the man itself that Jeremiah stared into. Easy smiles, curious to whether he looked in distain at Jeremiah or genuine comradie and the conclusion for the doctor was an easy one: He didn’t care either way. Friend or foe, in this moment it didn’t matter and instead should have been viewed like a game of poker with high stakes. So he let his eyes examine him, examine everything. One day he could too probe Lex’s mind in turn and discover every little thought. He allowed his wandering attention.

“Competence,” he sampled the word like he did wine, swishing around its mind and taking the smell of it before tasting as it seeped over his tongue. He chuckled. “I was surprised, I will admit that so many find me competent. Especially after so much has happened.” He of course was speaking of his disappearance, which had last enough time for people to question whether or not he was still alive. Then he’d come back with no explanation and a glassy expression. “I think Hugo Strange is innovative, however. I believe that he will useful in the very position offered to him. He’s gracefully accepted and that is all I can ask for.” He smiled and then turned once more to Luthor. “My uncle saw this city and he wanted to understand it, treat it. His efforts were nothing more than inspiring so I too decided to take up the mantle. The world needs changing.” He grinned at the meaning that could be hiding in Lex’s words.

He’d read the same data Lex had or at the very least data that agreed with it. The Arkham City Project had been one that Mayor Sharp had been hinting at for the entire terms of his office that was no secret to Jeremiah Arkham, but like Lex himself he’d not been sure it would be supported still, the data was sound. If something was not done Gotham City was heading for some sort of breakdown. He pursed his lips and nodded. “You have concerns about the project. Will it succeed in doing what Mayor Sharp seems so intent on insisting,” he said with a sigh, “I’m of the same mindset. I can promise that I can work to see that is used to achieve, but I too have my concerns. Is it the solution that Gotham needs? It’s rather…tyrannical, wouldn’t you say?” He chuckled, but too knew more than just that was concerning the billionaire. “And it’s shaping up so quickly too.”

He placed a hand on Lex’s shoulder, “But enough that. I do see you very fondly, Lex. After all I cannot say that without your support and the urges of those under your representation I would not be here accepting the job as Administrator. Your respect is not only spoken of me, but proven which is why I wish to relieve your worries.” He took up his cane and kept pace with Lex Luthor. “The details are still being ironed out, but I do know that the Asylum itself will remain, but it will be repurposed. I’m already planning the evacuation and resettling of the inmates here.” He used his other hand to minimally gesture as a more involved conversation started.

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Luthor's expression was almost as unintelligible, he had a range of emotions playing constantly over his face, he was a man of passions, an ever raging fire that seemed to let his emotions sway him so often and rationalize it so well, that it drove him to impossible states. Yes, Luthor was dangerous, even though it would be easy to ignore that fact, to see only the comfort of his clothing and the opulence of his stance, he was dangerous. It was visible in his eyes and the easy way he took in the surroundings. 

"Yes, Competence. When you task yourself with the impossible, failure is no shame. One must look at different metrics and contemplate progress and details. You've set yourself impossible tasks, and been through impossible situations. Yet even so, you've managed to press into the sheer mass of insanity that at times defines Gotham City. And as you said, the world needs changing. But yes, . . . it is shaping up rather quickly. Perhaps there's merely a need that needs to be filled." He walked like a predator in Saville Row, but he wasn't saying what he was really thinking. He was looking, listening, like a predator looking for a weakness, biding his time. "I've no doubt that you will do everything in your power to make certain that the project is a success. I also am certain that there is no other human being I would rather see in charge of the project. Whether or not the project's success is something any person can accomplish? Well, that I'm afraid, only history will be able to judge. I'm certain, at least, you won't allow the situation to devolve into petty tyranny." 


He smiled and patted the hand on his shoulder. "You'll be marvelous, though. I'm certain. The logistics are clear, you've a good strong private security firm on hand, I've had the opportunity to work with TYGER security in the past on occasion, and they are thorough, well equipped and among the premier private security firms on the planet. I worked with them in Corto Maltese, when LexCorp was contracted for consulting work during the insurgency there. I can't give away too many details, for obvious reasons. What I can tell you, though, is that they were able to deal quite effectively in an area of asymmetrical warfare in a mid sized city, clear out a vicious insurgency that was able to hold the city against a full battalion of Allied Troops for over seven months, and turn it into one of the safest classified green zones in the peacekeeping effort.  They were . . . very thorough and they were able to pacify a very . . . unstable population with minimal casualties. The Arkham City Project could do much worse than hiring TYGER security, I promise you." He nodded as he said "As for the city itself, I'm certain that security measures have been deliberated, but .  . . LexCorp DID have an arrangement with you for the Asylum project and to help strengthen security, and offer our security technologies. And that offer still stands. What can LexCorp do for you, Dr. Arkham? What can we do to help secure this area of the city to make certain that any existing security gaps are filled when an old and run down city filled with boltholes and passages and undercities and marshes is turned into one of the highest security areas on the planet. How can we make certain, that we don't have an issue with escape or smuggling, and can maintain monitoring and supervision of the inmates?" Ah, the sales pitch.