#v;arkham

>. ARKHAM ASYLUM

The flourescent lights hummed over her head like a beating drum, giving little room for her to think straight. It felt like she was barely awake as she had paced down the hallway with the guard tightly behind her -- watching her every move.

"Geez, man...Can you give me a little space here--?"

The wide-shouldered man shook his head dismissively before her question had fully landed. "Gotta make sure you get to the Doc in one piece, Neroni."

"Ugh. Sure. Whatever."

Whatever medication they had initially given upon her arrival just wasn't cutting it. The unbareable migraine had been splitting her brain in two all night, making sleep nearly impossible. Not that it would be great even if her headache wasn't killing her due to the hard, rigid beds they had been offered in this place.

"--- This is your stop."

The stop was a door -- a door with a fancy nametag on it that Binary couldn't even be bothered to read. But one thing she did bother to take notice to was how the guard seemed to look at her a little closer while he knocked on the door. Like he was checking to see if she'd fold and break already.

What that was however, she wasn't so sure about.

Binary swallowed hard - a gulp going through her throat and all the way down to her stomach. Talking to a shrink was the very last thing she wanted nor needed on today's agenda.<

>. Fragile yet cramping hands held the little bundle of goods that had been given to her upon her entry - her uncovered face staring out into her new home - a cell. The freshly-cut fingernails and washed hair instilled sterile feeling all over her body - but that was just the tip of the iceberg.

Arkham. She had seen and heard everything about this horrible place - and she had sworn from the get-go she would do anything to stay out. But after a business meeting with Two-Face going south and the GCPD arresting her while on the run, that self-inflicted promise was broken.

But upon entering the narrow four-wall box, Binary was surprised to see she wasn't going to be alone in there. Especially not with a face she recognized - but knew it wouldn't recognize her in return. Shit.

"...Hi - ."

>. "Kat -- Kat. Listen to me. It's not like it seems, I ---"

--- Panic. Bianca felt nothing but panic as she tried anything to stay out of the frantic woman's way. Problem was, she was her target. Trying to evade the words and punches being thrown her way in the small courtyard of Arkham Asylum, she held her hands up. Shielding herself in case anything would land.

"Y-You need to calm down. If the guards sees, they're going to put you in solitary confinement for a week straight ---"

She shouldn't have ran her mouth. She shouldn't have slipped up. -- Fuck!

“I’m tellin’ ya, it’s a great idea. C’mon, trust me. Tha bat will grow a  pair of wings before there is a chance that we get caught.”

Since the city went to hell, it’s been significantly more difficult to obtain the resources necessary to maintain any degree of comfort in one’s lifestyle. Before they decided to put up the walls and partition off most of the bay area, Edward could enjoy a cocktail and a cigar at the Iceberg, indulge in some company for the evening, and retire to his high rise safehouse (for more cocktails). These days, he spends most of his time coated in a thin layer of grime, sitting behind dated PC monitors that flicker occasionally due to a lack of fidelity in quality.

Standing at the entrance to what used to be the nicest lounge in town, though, the nostalgia isn’t diminished. The nearing sound of plebian criminals rioting in the streets prompts a swift entry, despite what would no doubt be an intense gauntlet of security.

Within, he’s greeted by the resident drone. Bird-flavored, of course.

Waving at the camera, the Riddler offers a nonthreatening pose with both hands in the air. Surely whomever is on the other end of the drone is watching him through that little lens.