From her eyes || Poison Ivy

3: November 5th

Tuesday
1:13pm

I poked my plastic fork around my plate, moving around the food I'd been given. The asylum knew I had a diet of paleo without plants, however they just threw the standard dinners at me sans vegetables. Today it was a cube of artificially strawberry jelly, with a supposedly turkey sandwich that tasted more like what I expected a kid's store to taste like. All rubber and zero nutrition for my precious insides.

My food related firing of neurones was interrupted by the doors to my cell opening, and heavy breathing. I looked up to see Dr Quinzel stood in the doorway dressed in a blue collared shirt and a dark navy a line skirt. Her legs were covered in black pantyhose and ended in small black heels.

"Wasn't the session starting at 1?" I remarked, looking back down at my food.

She had her hair tied back but there were strands falling out. Noticing this she took the hair tie out and redid the hairstyle quickly. "Yes, I'm sorry for the lateness but one of my other patients had a sort of tantrum and I was called to help." she apologised.

I looked up at her. "Another patient, hmm? Another maximum security loony?" I inquired.

She chewed her lip as she paused. "I'm not really inclined to tell you about my other patients, patient doctor confidentiality and all...." she started.

I rolled my eyes, but as I finished she continued.

"...but no, they're a lower level patient."

My mouth opened just a little before forming into a smile. Arkham was made up of four levels: Level 1 where the most basic of crazies were held, ones that were more a danger to themselves than to others, put in there by family members or even by themselves; then there were Level 2 and 3, where mentally unstable criminals were kept, rapists or murderers or those with very drastic psychosis that resulted in violent outbursts, locked up by the courts or police. Now then there was Level 4 which unlike its name was actually located under Level 1 in the basement. Here was only the worst afflicted mentally unstable mass murderers or terrorists, locked away by the police and their precious little Batman. All natural light was absent from Level 4, and a special keycard was required to enter the corridor which was always guarded by guards. The guards were armed with guns down here, in the higher levels they only held batons and tasers.

Quinzel saying that her patient was a lower level was a joke, they looked like children's party clowns next to me and the other Level 4 patients I had heard of.

"So a lower level bozo was more important than me? Interesting." I poked, smirking.

I noticed her wriggle in discomfort as I looked up. She had sat in the chair provided in my cell. "I did tell the nurses that I had a session with a Level 4 patient, but I don't think they really believed me. That sounds silly I know." she sighed, resting her head on her hand.

I cocked an eyebrow, now this was interesting. "Why wouldn't they believe you? I thought nurses were lower in the Arkham hierarchy than doctors." I replied, without any sarcasm in my tone.

She paused for a second. "I also shouldn't be telling you this, but I'm not really that respected as a doctor. Not that I've done anything wrong, but I made the mistake of going on a date with one of the guards, and so he spread an abundance of rumours about how I was easy." she explained, embarrassment very clear.

My lip feel a little loose and I sat back to look at her. To my astonishment I felt sorry for her, not that I'd tell her but I'd had problems with men underestimating me even before Jason Woodrue laid eyes on me.

"What an ass." I commented, giving her a rather soft smile. I don't know what had come over me, maybe I was starting to realise this doctor, unlike the others before her, was a human and treated me like I wasn't a green skinned freak. "I've always thought men should end up as fertiliser, then they'll be really useful."