two_face: (cuppa)
[personal profile] two_face
Harvey's still in a fairly solidly good mood by the time they wheel his ass down to the rec room. He can't be too obvious about it - the guards don't like anybody having anything resembling a good time - but not even the usual roughing up is enough to sour shit for him. The paperwork appointment had gone... well. Better than well, hell. He got out of that with her breaking the rules and without much persuasion on his part. He got a hug, of all things. Harv does what he can to keep that to himself.

He is, however, a little bit impatient. He's got shit to talk about and the Arkham Stitch 'n Bitch club's gonna have to hear it.

"You in a rush, Two-Face?" One of the usual guards sneers at him.

"Well, y'know, wouldn't wanna to miss that one episode of Star Trek they play over an' over." Harvey's lucky that the guard just gives him an extra rough shakedown before shoving him in the rec room. And wouldn't you know it, it's not Star Trek on the tv.

It's the goddamn Little Mermaid. Jesus. He's gonna have to work to tune that out.

It doesn't take long to spot Nygma and Crane at one of their usual spots. The chess set. Harvey steals a chair from another table and drags it over to them. He flips it around so he can sit on it backwards, arms rested on the seat back. "Doc, we got some shit we need to discuss." He pauses, glances over to Nygma, lest he feel left out. "You too, nerd."
thisiswhatyoulivefor: (right away)
[personal profile] thisiswhatyoulivefor
Caroline ducks into the tunnels leading to the Penitentiary, stack of papers tucked under an arm. She's got a folder of stuff for one of the... patients? to fill out. Are people enjoying a stay in Arkham patients or inmates? It should be the former, but given that she's going to the "penitentiary" building... Well.

Anyway. Whatever the case, she's been directed to take these forms to a uh, resident and help them fill them out. Whoever this is apparently isn't allowed to use pens or pencils, but that's just Caroline guessing from her instructions. The higher ups sure as hell don't tell her things like that. Things that might be uhh, important. And you know? Caroline's pretty sure they don't ban Benny with the bad depression from having pens (though you can never really tell with Arkham). So this'll be a fun trip.

It's kind of a hike to get there from the Mansion, but the tunnels help a little. She really doesn't understand why she so rarely sees anybody else down here. They're convenient. And lowkey kind of creepy when no one else is in them. ...Huh. Maybe that's why. Up some stairs and here she is. And... no map. Goddammit. She'll actually have to flag somebody down and ask them, and that's always a crapshoot.

Fortunately, her first try pays off. A decently nice guard gives her directions and no bullshit, and he even threw in a tip about the back hallways so she doesn't have to awkwardly walk through the cell blocks. Thank god. Caroline had not been looking forward to that.

Here it is. Interview room two. It's got one of those one-way mirrors like a police department interrogation room, so she can see she's the first to arrive. That's fine. She steps in and takes the seat closest to the door. Some instincts are hard to break, even if that means whoever she's helping has to be led past her. Hopefully that'll be soon. Caroline's not really into drawn out suspense.
drjonathancrane: (must you?)
[personal profile] drjonathancrane
Another dreary day in Arkham. It's business as usual for Crane-- appalling breakfast, morning therapy with Bradley, appalling lunch, and now time in the rec room. The guard shoves him in rougher than necessary and he stumbles a little. How nice. Ah, there's Edward over by the chess set. Excellent. He strolls over, idly rubbing at his wrists. The guards are in a mood today.

"Afternoon, Edward," he says, looming over the other man. "Care for a game?"
thisiswhatyoulivefor: (right away)
[personal profile] thisiswhatyoulivefor
Caroline heads down into the tunnels toward the Penitentiary. This time her armload of papers are actually for a patient. Or inmate. She's not actually sure which is accurate for Arkham residents. Either way, she was given a set of forms and told she'd be helping someone fill them out. Someone who is apparently not allowed to have a pen or pencil. And she only knows that because she guessed. Telling her who she'd be working with is apparently too difficult.

It's kind of a hike from the Mansion, but she makes good time. She almost never sees anybody else down in the tunnels, which strikes her as odd. Whatever. Back up the stairs, and... damn, there's no map. She'll actually have to ask somebody. Fortunately she finds a guard of some sort pretty quickly, and he actually points her in the right direction without being an asshole. That's not a guarantee in this place. He was even nice enough to tell her how to get to the interview rooms through the back halls. She hadn't been looking forward to walking through any of the cell blocks.

And... here. Interview room two. There's a one-way mirror like in a police department, so Caroline can see that it's empty. That's fine with her. She steps in and takes the seat closer to the door, thank you very much, even though that means whoever she's helping will be led past her when they get here. Which will hopefully be soon. She's not really in the mood for drawn out suspense.
two_face: (Arkham)
[personal profile] two_face
There's a certain rhythm to life in Arkham, and it's set as much by the kitchen as it is by the guards. Breakfast, lunch, dinner. Two hots and a cold, shitty breakfast, usually some ungodly rubbery eggs with something vaguely resembling toast or some ungodly version of waffles. Not that the other meals are much better than gruel. Today's is... especially that. Today is meatloaf day.

Harvey really fucking hates meatloaf day. Sure, it's slightly better than eating cold NutriLoaf with his fingers in administrative segregation, but not by much. At least there's no goddamn Tetch trying to chat him up when he's in solitary.

"--And off with their heads!" Tetch cackles up at him in the lunchline, expectantly. Honestly? He'd tuned most of that out. Something about him taking off heads. More Wonderland bullshit that he just does not have time for.

"Just get your goddamn food," Harvey can't even contain his exasperated groan. "And stop holdin up the fuckin' line." It still takes too long to get to the end of that and get his food. It's grey and horrifying, as usual - Arkham's consistent with this, he'll give them that much.

He pointedly finds an empty place to sit, far away from Hatter. Not that it matters all that much. By then, Hatter's already busy annoying someone else. Harv can enjoy his... watery mashed potatoes and unidentifiable meatloaf in relative peace.

At least, in theory.
thisiswhatyoulivefor: (right away)
[personal profile] thisiswhatyoulivefor
Caroline hurries through the tunnels toward the Medical Facility with an armload of papers. She's supposed to be bringing a Doctor... Bradley? a bunch of paperwork and then dropping some more off in Intensive Treatment. At least they let her use the tunnels. It's raining today.

Honestly, she's still not entirely sure how she landed this job. You'd think they'd be careful about who they let work in a place like this, but uh. Guess not. Caroline is definitely qualified to do dumb boring paperwork things, but she'd expected a background check or something. Well, whatever. If they don't care that the basically has no background, she's certainly not going to bring it up.

She finally hits the Medical end of the tunnel and climbs the stairs up into the facility proper. Fortunately, just about all the buildings have hospital-style maps scattered around in the public areas. She leans in and squints. Aha. Private therapy rooms and doctors' offices are on the second floor. The note from Dr. Bradley mentioned getting his paperwork between sessions. Hopefully he doesn't need her to do anything else. Caroline ducks back into the stairwell and climbs up to the second floor. From there, it's easy enough to find the right block of offices. She passes a couple of orderlies and one of those upright gurney things (Caroline's sure they have a name, but she has no idea what it is) on the way to the right office. Must be somebody fairly high security up here somewhere. Well, whatever. Caroline knocks on Dr. Bradley's door and waits.

[test post]

Feb. 9th, 2014 12:06 am
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[personal profile] drjonathancrane
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