@jeremiah-e-arkham sent:
Doctor Jeremiah Arkham is many things, but scatterbrained would not typically be considered as one of them. And yet, with the increasing frequency of disaster, and the need for intervention, the criminal psychiatrist was stretched thin.
Alas, with minimal time to spare before he was needed at the GCPD*, he found himself rushing to complete his tasks. Leading him to knock on the door of Doctor Jonathan Crane’s office.
“Doctor?”
His voice was a soft hum as he gently rapped upon the door of Crane’s personal office.
*See 𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐘. (𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈)
Jonathan could not, in good conscious, describe any of the days in Arkham Asylum as pleasant, since the less taxing or migraine inducing ones were few and far between- and were usually more of a warning than a rest stop. The calm before the storm, and the silence just after a gunshot and just before a death.
There was always something happening within these walls, no matter how deft the hands scrambling to hold it together. There were no good days in the asylum. Today, however, was a particularly bad one. He could feel in his bones, this itching, aching, impulsive need to destroy something.
To pull a string taut until it snapped.
It's been quite a while since he has left the asylum, he supposes, too cooped up within these rooms and this building to properly appreciate the havoc being wreaked in the city beyond.
His mind wanders, from the patient files in his hands to all the people losing their minds in the streets he cannot quite see. How terrified they must all be, to be abandoned by whatever safety had managed to reach them before. A faint knocking at the door drags him back to this office. When Jonathan pushes it open, it is to stare down at the other man on the other side for a good long while.
Then--
“Ah."
"What a pleasant surprise…" he said, though it was neither, "…director."
His eyes lift up to scan the empty hallway, the still air, the crow landing on the windowsill outside to pick at something before flying away again.
"Do come in."
