I do not own any aspect of The Dark Knight, or Batman, or the Joker, etc.
Chapter 1: A Glasgow behind the Window
She couldn't remember what the sun looked like, let alone how it felt on her face, but that fact never lingered in her manic brain for more than a split second. What had she been thinking about?? Ah, getting to finally draw and sketch and doodle and map to her heart's content. Her fingers itched when they went long without clutching a pencil and scribbling freely over a sheet of alabaster paper. Now why did she lose that 'privilege'…?
She rolled her tightly bound shoulders in thought, tossing her head to the side to glance at the small square that peered into her padded room from the heavy and bolted door to her cell. Her mussed hair fell in her face and across her back as she cocked her head from side to side in thought. Ah! Dr. Riley had been very 'disappointed' with her behavior of…a month ago??? Yes, a month! Solitary confinement to her cell as punishment. And if her manic and harried thoughts were correct, that nasty pill had been upped in dosage. Why they drugged her to make her crazier was just silly to her, but it wasn't as if she had much to complain about.
Except the lack of entertainment as of late…or of a very long time, again time escaped her sometimes…or always?
She huffed, her tongue darting out to flick against the grate of her face muzzle as she again cocked her head to glance at the door. Wiggling her toes, she quickly tucked her legs under her as she heard the familiar footsteps of an orderly approach the heavy door before it was snapped open with a series of unlocking locks. The heavy door swung open with a groan and an unfamiliar orderly stepped into the threshold, staring at her hostilely but with an undercurrent of apprehension.
"Solitaire is over. You get 1 hour in the Rec Hall today before Dr Riley's consultation" the brawny orderly stated in a rehearsed tone; definitely a newbie to Arkham Asylum. The crispness of his statement made her think of a little soldier intent on following rules than staying alive.
"Then can I take the jacket off today??? I'll keep the muzzle on, promise" she chirped in a genial tone, her eyes widening considerably as she vaulted to her feet easily, earning a flinch from the orderly.
"I was told you are to not, nor have you ever been let out of your cell without it. Sorry…"
"What's your name?? You're very cute" she asked abruptly, her tone compounding into a whispery low octave on the last word.
"Ms. Gwen, your privileges can be revoked again-"
"Oh ok ok, don't get all bent" she paused her chide as she almost danced to the door and leant forward, invading his personal space as she red his name tag. "Rowan, sounds fun!"
Growing more uncomfortable by the minute, the orderly took her firmly by her straight-jacket-bound bicep and led her out of her cell and down the way too brightly lit hall.
Happily marching, Gwen mockingly paced in time to the orderly's lead, her long legs and fluid stride getting attention from other staff members and from the criminals in the cells with damage-proof glass looking out to the walkway. Feeling the tension in his grip, Gwen decided to just make a list of what she'd do during her free hour instead of teasing the newbie.
Before she knew it, the entrance to the recreation wing was in front of her, and she teetered in excitement on the balls of her feet as Rowan signed her in and slid his access ID into the slot. As soon as they were buzzed in, the doors rolled open to reveal a room of tension.
Gwen raised a brow, her glee and list forgotten as she eyed the other Arkham inmates as they whirled on her briefly before returning their tense gazes at the glass cell where individual criminals were isolated from the rest of the population while still allowing them to a single chair and TV, all of which were bolted to the floor or the ceiling.
"I'll be in the guard's booth. Once your time is done, I'm to take you straight to 's office" Rowan stated as he released his grip of her arm. Gwen winked at him before her eyes took on the inquisitive expression from the curious scene.
Strolling further into the hall, she glanced at the inmates dressed in matching white hospital pants and shirts, men and women alike allowed to be in proximity only with several chaperoning orderlies in sight, as they took in her disheveled appearance, and the lack of matching attire characteristic to Arkham inmates.
Advancing along the large hall, which was securely divided into TV areas lined up on either side, the art room flanking behind the table game sections, and tense faces ignoring all of the spare amenities mentioned, she finally decided to glance in the direction the crowd was in awe of.
And there he was. Tilting her head in wonder, Gwen unabashedly stared at the Arkham inmate who stood out from the bleached and peeling walls of the confined media room. Sitting in the bolted chair that faced out to the rest of the recreation hall—attention on nothing in particular, but definitely not on the TV bolted to the ceiling— was a man who gave the Joker plastered within all the deck of cards in the game section a run for its money.
"Why's he get to wear his freaky make up" she heard someone finally whisper to no one in particular. She didn't bother to glance back, but did bother to slink closer to the middle of the room as she took in the clown-faced menace locked in his special little glass room.
"Supposedly they tried to wash him over, but none of the guards or docs could get close enough without breaking a few jaws or other parts" drawled a heavily medicated inmate, who sipped on his paper cup.
Cocking her head, Gwen found that interesting, all thoughts of drawing thrown to the winds of her manic mind.
"And what's this one's deal?" someone else rasped. At that, she cocked her head to the other side, her gaze still locked onto the dark but alluring glare that bore out of the black rims of the terrorist clown's eyes.
"Hey girly! That ain't a fuckin' puppy in the window" she felt the heavy hand plop onto her shoulder, the gritty breath against the side of her neck russling her long dark hair. "Have some respect and join the rest of us; maybe I'll be nice and help you out of this oh-so-sexy getup of yours" growled the inmate who seemed too lucid to have been in for long. Another newbie she mused, without taking her eyes off the Joker.
"No thanks…I'm taking in the sights, friend. Now step off" she flatly replied as she stepped out of his contact and closer to the cell before them.
She watched as the man wiggled his fingers, tapping erratically against his knees as he hunched forward in his chair, as if he strummed to a beat he could only hear. His greasy white face paint was cracking around the laugh lines of his face, and was rubbed off around his temples while his tinted hair clung messily around his face.
He looked fun enough to draw.
"Is that so?? What're you going to do, doll, when you can't even raise a hand to swat a lover off yah?" the brute behind her fumed threateningly under his breath, tugging at her manic impatience, but still not managing to break her attention to the sadist and maniacal murderer behind the glass.
"You know the shank hidden in the rubber of your flip flop?" She paused and clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "I'll have that in your jugular before you can make that "MEEP!" sound everyone makes when I play with them" she giggled jovially, her murderous intent an undertone emphasized by the drag of tone on the word play.
As the galoot gurgled a shocked sound and fumed behind her, she couldn't help but smile behind her muzzle as the enigmatic clown licked his lips and haphazardly clasped his hands over his knees before sitting back in his chair, his jagged Glasgow grin puckering as he contained a fit of random chuckles that were slightly audible over the commotion stirring in the room and over the sound of neglected television sets.
He seemed like a macabre sculpture that was about to burst into life. Definitely more interesting than the Joker icon plastered in any deck of cards—
Suddenly sensing the blow that was whizzing for her head, Gwen bent like a gymnast completely out of the way of the blow that whizzed past her torso, and did a handless cartwheel, managing to catch the brute in his jaw before her bare feet skidded on the rough carpeting. Glancing at the crowd, she realized what the commotion had been. Some of the inmates had retreated to neutral corners while the tough guys decided to have some special recreation time. Two had braced themselves against the door to bar intrusion from the staff while a few of them decided to take turns beating the chaperones they'd been able to subdue quite easily.
Giggling, Gwen ignored them briefly as she fixed the man with the malevolently quirked smirk in a burning stare that spoke of malice, sadism, and most importantly, mirth at what she was about to do.
"Soooooooooooo guys…no drawing for me for another month…"
The taunt preceded the lurch that reverberated the room as the brute and his friends lunged towards the mischievous creature with the lively auburn eyes.
THANKS FOR READING!
This was a stray idea that's been nagging at me since I got into the fandom. I'm still not sure if I'll be continuing the idea. I'm hoping that people's feedback will give me a push into the right direction, so please REVIEW, good or bad, I'd like to know what you think.