[arkham asylum]

[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.

Comments

[two_face]

Any kind of movement through Arkham is always such a joy. Shackles, chains, that upright gurney...thing, and stupid little entourage of guards. Harv's mostly resigned to the bullshit; he settles back in the gurney and asks the guards how their kids are.

It goes over about as well as one would expect.

"I was just asking, Jesus," Harv mutters quietly once things have quieted down. The rest of the trip through the penitentiary is silent, save for the squeaking gurney wheel and the rattle of the chains.

He patiently puts up with the procedures to get him in the interview room - there's always so many - before letting himself get lead in, flanked on both sides by guards. Whoever it is he's stuck with is already there, thankfully. A small-ish looking redhead with her back to the door.

...Wait. He pauses and squints. That's got to be Crane's secretary.

His hesitation earns him a jab in the back from a billy club. He grunts and stumbles forward, turning sharply to glare at the guard before going to settle across the table in the empty seat.

Well. Crane's secretary is pretty. He failed to mention that.

"Mornin'," Harv growls, twisting the cuffs on his wrists until they're a little more tolerable.