Rooms

I'm going to throttle my doctor the next time he says I can't have coffee.

[Locked to Bruce W.]

Bruce? Where's something I need to talk to you about.

[Locked to Crane]
[From Artie W.]

How's Arkham?

[Locked to DC door]

[An ( audio file )

Who: Jonathan Crane & Sam Alexander
What: A little meeting
Where: New Arkham
When: Recent!
Warnings/Rating: TBD~

[No one could argue the fact that Jonathan Crane was nearly a model patient at New Arkham Asylum. He did as he was told, didn't talk back to the staff, and was, in a nutshell, peaceful and quiet. As such, they didn't strap him down or drug him for visits, instead simply letting him know that someone would be in to see him, and would he please be sure that he was in his room at the appointed time.

That's how he was that afternoon. Freshly showered, his hair combed back from his face, he didn't look old enough to have done the sort of things that he had been accused of. Barely over 21 himself now, he still had a youthful face, though the long lines that made him up gave him a look that was peculiar. He was a strange thing, and not even youth could soften that.

His attention was on the book in his lap as he waited, long fingers turning pages, thinking back to what Becky had said about escape. Maybe it was time to leave this place, one way or another.]

[Locked to Captain America]

[It's deleted repeatedly, but someone is going to ask eventually and she'd rather just have it done with.]

I'd rather chop off my fingers. I owe you an apology.

[Public]

I'm beginning to hate the sight of orange juice.

[After this clusterfuck. It takes some digging, but eventually she finds what she wants. A phone call comes into Arkham and the caller asks only to speak with Jonathan Crane.]

[Locked to Becky L]

[After this.]

If someone named Helena contacts you, please do not talk to her. She is the one who attacked me before. She is an unhinged young woman and I would not want her to harm you.

[Public]

I am aware that we have new occupants of our door, and it is now available to regular visitors as well. I thought it only polite to greet you. I am Diana of Themyscira, otherwise known as Wonder Woman. If you have questions or concerns I will endeavor to answer them for you. I caution visitors to be wary, it can be a very dangerous place. If Gotham is not to your liking, Metropolis is an active place, and I speak highly of Gateway City.

Please follow the laws of the land.

Thank you.

[After catching up on everything public & on the batfam+ locks. Probably right around the time Joe leaves to meet The Bat.]

[Public]
Don't worry, boys. No one needs to drop the ball on Gotham to come save little old me, and no one needs to leave their own door.

Oh, and thanks for the hospitality, Joe.

[Marina S]

where the fuck are you? kid too.

[Ford C]

where the fuck are you?

[Sam A]

what the fuck Goldilocks.

[Public]

someone want to fucking tell me if I'm living in a fucking comic book why the fuck the superheroes haven't cleaned the fuck up yet? place looks like the sun fucking died.

[Honestly, he hadn't been expecting her to visit. Of course he had hoped she would visit, that she wouldn't disappear into the world now that she was here, but he wasn't holding out much hope for it to actually happen. People said things all the time that they didn't mean, and he wouldn't hold it against her - for long.

So when they came to fetch him one afternoon with a comment that he had 'a visitor', Jonathan found himself pleasantly surprised. They were still treating him with kid gloves, healing injuries aside, and though he was accused of many, many things, his behaviour was not that of a criminal. He didn't fight, he didn't raise a fuss, and he was, in fact, one of the most well-behaved people who were being held there against their will.

You got more friends with honey than vinegar, Jonathan thought, and he would continue to behave that way until something gave him reason to behave otherwise.

He was sitting in the visiting room when they escorted her in, hands clasped together, wrists still bandaged from Helena's attack. There were fading bruises on his face, a row of stitches near his hairline, and though the plain clothing of the asylum was old and faded, he still looked like himself.

When she came in, he looked up, meeting her gaze, a hint of a smile pulling at his lips. Nothing was said, though, until the door was closed and they were afforded some bit of privacy.]

I wasn't sure you'd come.

[Public]

Anyone know a good vet in the Gotham area? I've got a sick kitty cat :(

[locked to jonathan c.]

Please, please Jonathan?

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