You Always Remember Your First Time [Gordon]

[Pamela Isley]

When Batman had first appeared, he'd only been a rumor. But even when the rumor had been confirmed, not everyone knew what to make of it - especially not the police. Though even if there were many mixed opinions about what he was doing and whether or not he should be allowed to keep doing it (as if anyone could stop him...), by this point most of the police knew that they could safely assume that if Batman got into some sort of an altercation with someone, that person had probably done something criminal. Whether or not the altercation had been justified could be debated forever, but he didn't pick good and nice people to rough up.

As the police pulled up to the Isley estate, responding to reports of some sort of a commotion at this very late hour of the evening - a crash loud enough to be heard by the neighbors and fire, or at least some smoke - they would have seen the shape of Batman in the light of a streetlamp just outside of the front gate, but that shape disappeared back into the darkness even before they would have had a chance to order him to stop. Not that he'd have listened anyway - he never did, and especially not tonight - he was in a very severe hurry. But he left something behind where he had been - Pamela Isley, bound hand and foot as well as gagged. By vines, of all things.

What exactly was going on would be difficult for anyone to tell at this moment. It was only a couple of hours after Harvey Dent was rushed to the hospital, dying due to some unknown poison. Elsewhere the police were still in the process of questioning the kitchen staff at the restaurant he'd been eating at when he'd collapsed. Still, she was on the shortlist of people the police would want to question about the case - she was his girlfriend and had left the restaurant not long before his collapse, but they'd been unable to locate her immediately and there simply hadn't been sufficient time to launch a proper effort to track her down yet. But apparently Batman had done so and decided to offer her up to the police.

Pamela Isley was a lot of things; she was multi-millionaire, a noted socialite, and a scientist. However, one of the things she was not was athletic - her trim figure was due entirely to whatever combination of genetics she was born with and diet she adhered to. What that meant at this moment is that the vines, though not the most orthodox of restraints, were nevertheless quite sufficient to hold her for the moment. Which was probably a good thing, because she'd been rendered quite unable to move and yet was making every effort to do so. She strained against them with an almost bestial fury, either not noticing or not caring that her efforts were probably in vain, at least if she was going to continue to try to simply break them instead of trying to, perhaps, untangle herself properly.

But that doesn't seem to have occurred to her as a possibility - instead her eyes burned with rage, a crazed look in her eye giving some small hint that she wasn't exactly lucid at the moment. Unable to speak due to the vines in her mouth serving as a gag, she simply screamed her outrage instead. Even that sound was muffled, but she did manage to get it out.

[James Gordon]

A disturbance call at Gotham Heights, one of the richest areas in Gotham city was usually not something to get worried about. It was one of the least violent parts of the city, but when 911 was called the police response was usually fairly quick. It was a code 1, which meant that a siren wasn't required for something was most likely a glorified noise complaint. Might be some of the rich schmoozers of the Gotham city elite getting a little rowdy after their drinks, whatever it was the two police officers that answered the call weren't too worried about what they would encounter. Such an attitude while on the job as a police officer could cost someone dearly, but these two officers felt they weren't threatened by some rich folk. " The Isley estate? You ever hear about them?" Officer Grant, who just pulled up a medium distance from the main gate of the Isley Estate asked while he briefly looked at his sergeant.

His partner, Sergeant Aldrich shook his head with a clueless look on his face. "Can't say I have, must have done something to get this rich." The car was stopped and shut off, Officer Grant cracked open the door and sniffed a few times. "That smoke?" Once they noticed smoke was in the air the hurried out of the car. Once they were out they saw a shadow above a streetlamp that appeared to be moving. The two officers were startled, Sergeant Aldrich would place his hand above his holster. What in the samhell was that?" He blinked a few times before focusing his gaze on his subordinate, Officer Grant. Was nothing sarge, probably some sorta bird or bat or somethin'"

Sergeant Aldritch shook his head. "Nah kid... It was bigger than that... Maybe I'm just seein' things'" Sergeant Aldrich lowered his guard. The two officers finally had their bearings, and once they got a second look at the street lamp they noticed a young woman under it, and she appeared to be bound and gagged. The two officers were befuddled as to why they didn't notice her earlier, their attention clearly was on the shadow that disappeared just as they noticed it, and they were far enough away that they couldn't really make out anything until they were closer. They made haste up to the woman that was thrashing against her bonds, which appeared to be... vines?

"Ma'am! Ma'am! Are you alright?" Officer Grant rushed up to her, and moved to take the gag out right away. The woman kept thrashing, being a fairly new officer, Grant didn't think to wait before starting to try to release her from the binds that restrained her. She felt restless and seemed like she wasn't quite all there.

Sergeant Aldrich took a step forward. "Careful, Grant."

Grant stopped a moment, but the vines were almost completely off.

"This woman needs our help, should we call an ambulance?"

[Pamela Isley]

There were quite a few estates in this area that the local police would be very familiar with - either because their occupants threw frequent wild parties, they were famous enough to attract stalkers, or their wealth didn't render them immune to domestic disturbances and the like (in fact, wealth sometimes made such things worse). But the Isley estate has so rarely been the scene of anything of note for decades that it's just another mansion in the neighborhood. Of course, wild parties weren't always held at the same residences every time, so all that meant was that the responding officers would get to see somewhere new.

Of course, for the moment, most of what could be seen was the exterior fence - it was made of brick, but that was difficult to tell because it was covered by vines. But the white, large-windowed, three-story home within could be seen rising above it, even though it was set back quite far from the road. The plume of smoke rising up behind it was faint, but still just visible in the darkness of the night.

But such details were merely in the background compared to the woman that had been deposited in front of her home. She looked to be in a bit of a state - her hair was wet, her make-up had run somewhat, and what had once been a beautiful and expensive red dress was not only wet but torn in a few places. She also sported several bruises, but no injuries more significant than that. Yet what likely grabbed the most attention was her expression. Even obscured somewhat by the gag, her eyes locked on to the two men the moment they came into her view, burning with anger. She screamed against the gag again, this time directing it at them, but was limited to being able to express only a muffled fury.

When approached, this failed to calm her - in fact, it seemed to only make her more upset. Her struggle against her bonds redoubled, to no apparent effect except to actually make it more difficult for the one reaching for the vines to release the gag. When he managed to do so anyway, feeling it loosen prompted her to spit out the gag. Before she could say anything, however, she could already feel the vines loosening on her wrists. Which was unfortunate, because if she'd been able to speak sooner, it may have given them some slight hint that releasing her was possibly not the best course of action.

Feeling the loosening bonds, she didn't wait until he was completely finished to throw her full strength into freeing her hands. But because they'd been weakened, she managed to succeed this time. And she put her ability to use her hands into immediate use - because it was Sergeant Aldritch who was standing in front of her, he became her target. "MURDERER!" she screeched, launching herself at him as best she could, even though her legs weren't completely freed. Unable to think about this tactically, she only belatedly realized that she couldn't possibly get herself high enough to reach anything she was truly aiming for so she instead tried to grab at his clothing and knock into him hard.

She wasn't a strong woman, but she was tall enough that even her thin frame carried a non-negligible amount of weight - if she caught him off guard then perhaps she could knock him over. That would give her free rein to climb on top of him and try to pound his murderous face into the ground - or such was her desire.

[James Gordon]

Officer Grant was trying to free the woman, but he caught completely off guard when she screamed the word 'Murderer'. It was hard to know exactly who she was talking to at this point, but it appeared as if she addressed Sergeant Aldrich, one of the responding officers that was also caught off guard when the small-framed young woman launched herself in an attack against Sergeant Aldrich.  "Wha-" Her legs weren't full free and were still held together by the vines. The force she projected herself with was enough to knock into Sergeant Aldrich painfully. After she collided with him, she was able to grab onto his belt. This caused Sergeant Aldrich to tumble to the ground along with the woman, who then used her moment to slam his head into the pavement. Once, and almost twice before the woman was forced away from Sergeant Aldrich by Officer Grant. It happened quickly, officer grant barely had time to pull her away from Sergeant Aldrich.

Sergeant Aldrich's nose was broken from being slammed against the hard concrete, and he yelped from the pain. She looked tiny but the woman had a feeling of ferocity to her. Sergeant Aldrich deciding not to take her seriously was his first mistake. Sergeant Aldrich slowly picked himself up from the ground, he wiped the blood from his nose only to wince in pain. His vision was blurry at first and disoriented. He blinked a few times only to see Officer Grant wrestling with the woman, trying to force her back on the ground so he could place cuffs on her.

This was the moment when Charlie Aldrich saw red, he didn't care that he was a cop right now. He cared that this woman got the jump on him. "You little bitch!" He approached Officer Grant and the Woman and casually pushed Grant aside. "Sergeant Aldrich... Sergeant Aldrich, what are you doing?!" Officer Grant called out but to no avail. Sergeant Aldrich was a physically imposing man, standing at six feet and three inches. He was broad-shouldered, athletic and was a cop long enough that a new officer like Grant posed little to no challenge. Next, he lifted the woman with ease and forcefully pushed her toward the car, which was almost twenty yards away from the lamp post. Officer Grants calls for Sergeant Aldrich to stop fell on deaf ears, he just kept moving. Once they reached the car he forcefully slammed her into the side of the car. He reached for the handcuffs on his belt and put them on the woman, one wrist at a time. After that, he turned her around so that they were face to face. He pulled his arm back, his fist closed as if he was prepared to strike the cuffed and defenseless assailant.

He was about to let loose, with little care with what he was about to do.

"SERGEANT ALDRICH, BACK UP NOW!" Not knowing what to do, Officer Grant drew his weapon and pointed it as his sergeant. Aldrich noticed this, blinked a few times with blood still dripping from his nose. He opened his fist and released the woman that was in his grip. He snapped out of the rage that he was just in. He took a deep breath and composed himself.

"Sergeant... I-"

"You did the right thing, Officer Grant. Now put the gun away." He said, panting approaching the assistant so he and Officer Grant could stash her in the car in order to head back to the GCPD precinct. Maybe she'd calm down by then and they'd be able to ask questions. 

Maybe.  

[Pamela Isley]

The moment that she felt herself being grabbed from behind, Pamela's attention moved to trying to fend off Officer Grant. And she did so with a certain single-minded tenacity, trying to hit him with her head when he grabbed her arms. But fortunately for him, she was outmatched by his strength, and whatever method of restraint he preferred to use on a highly combative subject worked nicely on her - especially since her legs were still caught up in the vines. "MURDERERS!" she screamed again as she struggled against him, thrashing around like a wild animal even though her efforts seemed mostly useless now that she was unlikely to catch one of them off guard.

And especially by updating what she was screaming to plural, it would probably become clear to the officers that she was talking about them - they are the murderers. And she didn't seem to notice or care about the dispute between the officers she was just as happy to attempt to fight the first one as the second. Being physically lifted in such a way did not seem to give her pause, alter her objectives, or even interrupt her in any substantial way - she simply continued to try to fight against him with all of her ineffective might. She didn't even cower or flinch when it seemed that she was about to be slapped - it was as if she didn't even understand the meaning of his movements. All she knew is that she wanted to attack him, and him only because he was the closest.

"MURDERERS!" she screamed again, seemingly unaware that she was interrupting a tense stand-off between the officers. Though a moment later she was very distracted because, while it was probably possible for her to stand with her legs bound together as they were, she wasn't aware enough of the details of the situation to be prepared to attempt to do so when Sergeant Aldrich released his grip. So she ended up slumping to the ground, which was a problem because it was also difficult to work out how to get to her feet again with them still bound and also her wrists handcuffed and unable to assist. That was more than enough to keep her occupied until her attempts to work out the mechanics of her physical situation were interrupted by the two men putting her into the back of the car.

When they did, she used the opportunity to scream "MURDERERS!" at them again, putting up another struggle but still unable to fight them off. When they shut her inside and got in themselves, however, it only took her a few moments to reposition herself for another gambit - this time she started trying to break the barrier that separated her from them by smashing into it with her head.

[James Gordon]

This woman was not calming down, she kept screaming bloody murder and accusing officer Grant and Sergeant Aldrich of being such. They didn't even know her name, they did answer a call at the Isley estate, maybe she was a resident. Now that she was in the car, the officers got in and started the vehicle. This is when she started to attack the gate that separated the back seat and the front of the vehicle. Her attacks and attempts to loosen the gate were moot, the gate did not budge. It was fastened to the car by several heavy-duty screws and the frame itself was made out of steel. "What should we do sir? She's not letting up." Officer Grant firmly gripped the steering wheel, only to release it for a moment to wipe the sweat off his brow. He is still experiencing his first year as a GCPD officer, and what was happening now isn't something they cover in the academy.

"Easy, she assaulted me. She goes to lock up at Gotham Police Plaza, we book her for assault." Officer Grant would maneuver the vehicle out of where it was parked and began to drive on the access road that would lead them out of Gotham Heights. Sir with all due respect, she is not in her right mind. We found her bound and gagged... and with vines that is not a common occurrence. " Officer Grant took a deep breath and blinked a few times, trying to consider what might be the best solution to this situation. "Does it matter? Must I repeat myself, Officer Grant? She attacked me. She assaulted a police officer and she would have gone for you too. She's so convinced that we're murderers, maybe some time in a cell will do her some good."

Officer Grant turned on his turning signal, beginning to merge with traffic. "Sir, she was the one tied up. She could be a victim here, we should take her to Arkham where she can receive the help she needs. It is our duty to-"

"Stop with that childish bullshit Officer Grant. We're cops, yeah but this is the real world alright? Some woman that probably is worth ten times more than you and I combined several times over doesn't care about us, why should we care about her? I know I don't need to say that she attacked me again, or do you really want to disobey your superior officer? Why don't you try and see where that takes you. For your benefit, I will omit the fact that you had your gun on me."

Grant exhaled, defeated. He kept focusing on the road in front of him, staying silent. Aldrich shifted himself to look at the woman behind him. "What's your opinion in all of this? Should we take you to Arkham or the Precinct?" He paused for a moment smirking. "Wait, wait don't tell me. You're gonna say MuRdErErS." he chortled a few times before returning to looking straight ahead.

[Pamela Isley]

There was a reason why it was a bad idea to try to hit things with your head, even if you were wearing a helmet but especially if you weren't; brains are extremely important but quite delicate structures that don't handle such impacts very well. That was why what Pamela was doing was strange and usual - almost anyone in their right mind probably wouldn't try it, and the few who did would probably stop when they saw it wasn't accomplishing anything.

But she was definitely not in her right mind, so it didn't seem to matter to her that her efforts were not bearing any fruit. It also didn't matter to her that the impact to her head was making her feel very light-headed and dazed - in fact, she had to pause between her attempts shake off the effect of the collision enough to try again. She was almost certainly going to give herself a concussion or even knock herself out at the rate that she was going.

Yet none of that seemed to matter to her, and she also didn't give any sign that she was paying any attention whatsoever to the conversation between the officers - not only the content but also the fact that they were talking at all. All she was really aware of is that they were over there, there was something in the way that was stopping her from getting to them, and with her arms and feet restrained she didn't have very many options for attempting to get past that barrier. Her perception of the entire situation was really quite simplified at the moment.

So even though she screamed "MURDERERS!" again, as if on cue, it was really more that she was screaming at almost regular intervals, which meant that it was predictable with near precision - at worst she would be only a little early or later than expected. Or at least that's how it was at first because after hitting her head a few solid times she started having a hard time keeping track of the passage of time herself, and as a result her screams became somewhat less regular in their frequency and less frequent overall. That didn't make her one-word accusation any less shrill and unpleasant to hear, especially within the close confines of a car. It wasn't difficult to guess why the person who tied her up had gagged her as well while they were at it.

[James Gordon]

The woman kept screaming, it was like clockwork it was so consistent. Sergeant Aldrich was clearly getting angry, but Officer Grant managed to keep his composure all this time. He knew there were people like this, and that they needed help. He didn't want to write them off like Sergeant Aldrich, maybe he has been a cop longer but that doesn't mean you should abandon them. Not only was this woman out of her mind, but it also seemed that she could be dangerous and she was trying very hard to be dangerous. There has to be a reason she was tied up, right? And just left there? That was the major mystery of this call, it wasn't an everyday call that was for certain. Officer Grant firmly gripped the steering wheel, it was pitch black outside and he was on the highway. They'd be coming up on the exit to downtown soon, the exit they'd need to take to return to the GCPD HQ. Sergeant Aldrich seemed like he wasn't paying attention, he kept talking about the woman. How he wanted to put her in her place, but Officer Grant wasn't listening. 

The exit for downtown came and went, Sergeant Aldrich didn't even notice right away. Three minutes had passed since Officer Grant missed the exit, Sergeant Aldrich would stop talking and squint his eyes as if he was trying to see in the dark. "Hey did you miss the exit? Feels like we should have gotten to it by now." Officer Grant kept silent and focused his eyes on the road. "Grant, did ya hear me? I know this is bothering you, but you just gotta stay in your lane... Ok? Can you do that for me?" Officer Grant was still ignoring Sergeant Aldrich.

"Don't ignore me, boy." Sergeant Aldrich started swearing, and just so happened to notice that Officer Grant just took an exit. The exit that would take them to Arkham Aslyum. Sergeant Aldrich was visibly fuming. "Are you outta your goddamned mind? Turn around now, that's an order!" Officer Grant would shake his head. "I'm sorry sir, but she needs help. We need to take her to Arkham." Both officers were ignoring the woman now, focusing on what they were doing and the internal strife that was going on in the car. "You need help if you think you can disobey a direct order if you wanna hold onto that badge and gun you better turn around this car right now!" Officer Grant kept ignoring him, he would just begin speeding up.

"That's it, I'm taking over." Sergeant Aldrich would lean over and try to forcefully take the wheel from Officer Grant, the car started swerving. "Sergeant Grant! Stop!" Neither one of them was able to get control of the car before it went straight into a ditch. Unfortunately, no one else was near the two officers on the highway, no one witnessed the car crashing into a ditch. It was a pretty rough tumble, the airbags triggered. The crash wasn't rough enough to cause any real damage, the woman in the back was in a very secure area and would have tumbled a bit but most likely wouldn't have taken a ton of damage. Officer Grant and Sergeant Aldrich on the other hand, had a few cuts and bruises but were okay for the most part.

After the car came to a stop, Sergeant Aldrich would get out of his seat, rushing over to the driver's side door. He opened the door quickly and forcefully, yanking Officer Grant from his seat and throwing him on the ground. Sergeant Aldrich would get on top of Officer Grant and punch him in the face twice, Officer Grant tried to fight back and to block the blows but he was mostly unsuccessful since he was still in a daze from the crash and it had happened so fast. "You little pissant! Look at what you did!" He would punch Officer Grant once more in the face, breaking his nose. After that previous blow to the face, Sergeant Aldrich would stand up. He had been seeing red again, he quickly noticed what he did and felt a little remorse. "Look kid, fine. You win. We'll take the bitch to the asylum, okay?" He also realized he could lose his job over this.

"That little harlot gotta couple licks in, just like she did to me. Isn't that right, Officer Grant."

Officer Grant was bloody, sweating and the only light there was the light from the headlights of the patrol car. "S..Sure Sarge, whatever." Sergeant Aldrich would then walk to where Officer Grant was lying on the ground, offering his hand so Officer Grant could get up off the ground. Officer Grant would get up and wipe the blood from his nose. Both officers approached the car, which was a little banged up but luckily enough it wasn't in that bad of shape. Both officers got in the car and were able to drive back up on the highway due to the ditch not being that deep.

Officer Grant was back at the wheel, heading towards the asylum. Sergeant Aldrich turned again to face the woman. "You okay? Have anything else to say? Or is it still the same ole deal?"

[Pamela Isley]

Still seemingly oblivious to anything that the officers were saying Pamela carried on with her fruitless attempt to reach them. Just because she had nowhere near enough strength to even weaken the barrier between them didn't mean that it wasn't clearly the way she needed to go to get at them, and that was the only important thing for her to know, in her limited ability to have an opinion.

This meant that she was completely unprepared for the results of their argument. She was indeed tumbled a bit by both the swerving and the dive into the ditch, not that her well-being was likely on either of their minds at the moment. Well, perhaps somewhere in the back of Officer Grant's mind, but more likely he was more worried about himself at that particular moment - after all, she was safely locked up in the back seat and it was someone else that was threatening him.

It wouldn't be until they had sorted out their differences that they would likely notice the silence behind them in the car. What Sergeant Aldrich would see in the back when he deigned to look back was that the woman had ended up falling down to the floor, in front of the seat. And she was apparently passed out - or perhaps knocked out if the knot on her head was any indication. Though it would be hard for anyone to say if she'd hit her head during the swerving or if it was her banging her head on purpose that had done it.

Either way, though, a moment of observation would indicate that she was still breathing, and though she was certainly suffering from a concussion she was already stirring enough to show that her brain was making some attempts to work properly again. Only a few moments later she managed to mutter "...murderers...", proving that she was fine, probably. Just a little bit knocked out for a moment, there.

Of course, what neither man knew because she'd not given them much of an opportunity to do so is that this was the least of the blunt force trauma that she'd suffered this evening. Her 'conversation' with Batman hadn't been very... pleasant. If it had, she wouldn't have been in the state of mind they'd found her in to begin with, not that they would know anything about that. But what that also meant is that she was already not doing so well physically. It was just fortunate for everyone involved that she'd not suffered any lacerations among all of it.

[James Gordon]

The woman had the wind knocked out of her, she wasn't able to call Sergeant Aldrich and Officer Grant murderers with as much gusto like she did before. Sergeant Aldrich smiled from ear to ear. He got some sort of pleasure seeing that the tumble shut the woman up. "Well at least something good came out of this shitshow, she's not screamin' bloody murder anymore. Thank the lord, there is a big guy up there." There was a level of enthusiasm in his voice, almost as if he was excited. Officer Grant was just focusing on the road ahead of him. The noise of Sergeant Aldrich talking was ignored, he was zoned out and everything except his own thoughts was being drowned out. So many thoughts were racing in his mind. What was he going to do? Should he quit? Officer Grant just wanted this night to end, he wanted to drop this woman off at Arkham and go home.

Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, Officer Grant and Sergeant Aldrich would reach the turn off into Arkham Asylum. The institution was on an island, and the surroundings of the asylum were creepy enough to be in a horror movie. The GCPD has transported suspects to the Arkham Asylum before, basically, anyone that didn't seem to be functioning normally was dropped off here. Gotham General had a mental ward, but Arkham was where they took the really special cases. This woman is tied up in vines, her accusing the officers of being murderers at every chance she got wasn't the norm. Cases that weren't the norm were dropped off here and usually forgotten.

Officer Grant parked the radio car at the new patient entrance. He stared into the mirror and made doubly sure he didn't have any more blood on his face. He sighed, getting out of the car. Sergeant Aldrich had already gotten out of the car, he was over on the side where the woman was sitting. He opened the door and forcefully pulled her from her seat. "Let's get this over with, I need a drink." Sergeant Aldrich and Officer Grant would walk to woman up to the entrance, Officer Grant opened the large double doors and was the first to walk inside. Akrham Aslyum had a reputation, but it was incredibly clean, at least in the reception area. It had that iconic hospital smell, the sort of smell you can't really put your finger on, but can tell it is associated with medical facilities. The blinding color of white would burn into the retinas of Sergeant Aldrich and Officer Grant. "Jesus Christ, that's bright." Sergeant Aldrich would hold up his arm to try and shield his eyes from the light.

The two officers walked up to the reception desk with the woman still in handcuffs. "I'm Sergeant Aldrich, this is Officer Grant." Aldrich jammed a thumb in Grant's direction. He'd soon lean forward. "Gotta Jane Doe here, picked her up at Gotham Heights. Not sure what happened but we found her bound and gagged, she's been accusing us of being murderers ever since. She's obviously not all there. There someone we can talk to? A doctor maybe? Whoever usually deals with the nutjobs would be great." Sergeant Aldrich was full of sarcasm, laughing at his own jokes and everything. Officer Grant was standing there, staring into blank space. He wasn't fully aware of where he was, but he was struggling very hard to pull it all together.

[Pamela Isley]

Unfortunately for Sergeant Aldrich, the reprieve from Pamela's screams only lasted for so long. Though it was true that her ability to continue to accuse them of being murderers was weakened by all the stars she was seeing because it took a while for those to clear up.

Though even more importantly, she found herself on the floor and because the legroom in the back seat of the patrol car was far from generous, she fit into it quite neatly. This was a problem because even in normal circumstances it would take a lot of twisting and effort to unwedge herself, but with her legs still bound and her wrists still cuffed she also couldn't effectively use her limbs. She may have managed to get herself out of that position eventually, but doing that while also dazed in the time it took for them to arrive at the asylum was simply impossible. And, being more focused on this problem than attempting to murder the murderers in the front seat, she forgot to scream at them nearly so often even when her ability to do so largely recovered.

That changed the moment the door was opened and she was pulled out. "MURDERERS!" she screamed as she did her best to try to fight them off, but that was simply impossible between the cuffs, the vines still wrapped around her ankles, and the fact that they surely expected her to be like that. The two of them were more than enough to haul her inside, her struggles coming to nothing.

Taking her inside seemed to have no effect on her behavior, and even as the officers were trying to locate someone to take over dealing with her she continued trying to fight and screamed "MURDERERS!" again for good measure. She certainly looked a worse for the wear, which was only more obvious in the light of the reception area instead the darkness of night or the inside of the patrol car - she had an impressive knot on her head, what had once been an elegant makeup job was utterly ruined, as was the red cocktail dress she was wearing. Her shoes were MIA, and it was impossible to tell what hairstyle she'd had before, it was so far askew from anything intentional. It was also difficult to tell which of the large smudges on her were dirt and which might be bruises - there were a lot of them, either way.

Unlike the officers, the receptionist was well accustomed to hearing all kinds of people screaming all kinds of things and didn't bat one eyelash at it. Instead, the woman checked the office's time clock to see who was still around - it was getting to be quite late at this point, but it wasn't unusual at all for some of the staff to stay this late. "One moment please..." she said, alerting one of them that they were needed at the front - though with how loudly the woman they brought in was screeching, she wouldn't be surprised if anyone reasonably nearby didn't already know.

[Jeremiah Arkham]

If there was one person who could always be found at Arkham early or late, it would be Jeremiah. He lived a miniscule commute away and as director and owner, there was always work he could be doing. Between listening to session tapes and adding notes he’d not thought of in the moment, to looking over applications for jobs he would forward to the area managers, and overseeing and keeping track of the construction being done on better, more secure cells for the men and women their friendly, neighborhood Batman was bringing in, Jeremiah could probably always be reached at his office. If not there, he could be reached at home.

The night Pamela Isley came in, it was the former.

Jeremiah was in his office, watching a taped session he’d had earlier that day with one of his out-patient clients for his regularly scheduled therapy sessions, when his work phone pinged. It wasn’t out of disrespect that he didn’t immediately look at the message. He was engrossed in finishing up his thought before he lost it by focusing his mind elsewhere. So he finished his note, paused the video, and then picked up the phone to check the message that the police were down in intake with a prisoner.

He pulled his lab coat and fixed his hair from where he’d been running his fingers through it. Then he slipped the phone into his pocket along with his walkie-talkie and made his way through the faculty building and into the intake area of the hospital where EMS and the Police Department brought their more unruly patients. Patients not suited for Gotham General or even sometimes transferred from Gotham General. There were both violent and non-violent wards in Arkham Asylum as well as programs for more short-termed stay. The name may have a nod towards the criminal justice system, but times had changed and the asylum had changed with them; especially when Jeremiah took over.

So here he came through doors where he waved his badge and gates unlocked so he could push them open. He came right to the front of intake and took in the scene before him.

Many of the Gotham Police, in his time, hated bringing patients here. It was akin to an insult, as if it said “they couldn’t handle a person.” That and some of the older officers refused to believe there was such a thing as mental illness.

Oh, how it must rankle them to bring the woman there. Especially the older of the two. He could see it in his eyes.

And hadn’t he seen his face before on the news? Hadn’t he been accused of using excessive force?

That, however, was not on the forefront. What was on the forefront was the woman, who was struggling and screaming. She looked like she’d been tossed and beaten up and her legs were tied in vines?! Her eyes also were filled with seething, unseeing rage.

He crossed his arms and frowned. “Please tell me neither of you beat her up like this.” His voice was brusque and very serious. He eyed both officers, but he quickly decided against the one who looked haunted. He was also beaten up with a broken nose. Instead his glare settled right on Officer Aldritch. Sure, he also looked to have been injured, but he had been the only one whose laughter he'd heard on his way here.

[James Gordon]

The spastic floozy was up to her old tricks again, Sergeant Aldrich could have only wished she would have kept quiet. She tried to break free, but the handcuffs that she was wearing made that quite impossible for her. When she squirmed like this, Sergeant Aldrich would forcefully stop her, in full view of everyone that could have been watching. He was only doing his job, those people should know that the woman previously tried to assault him, broke his nose and everything. She also broke Officer Grant's nose. At least that was the story he was going to tell. "One moment please," She said, Sergeant Aldrich, slumped a little, appearing that he was ready to be in it for the long haul. "One moment? Is that one hour or two?" He trailed off for a moment before muttering 'doctors' under his breath. Officer Grant didn't have much to add at all, he still stared blankly at the wall in front of him. He wasn't even restraining the woman whatsoever. He was so disassociated with what was going on that he didn't even respond when Sergeant Aldrich spoke at him.

"Should have gone to the station, Grant. We wouldn't have to wait an hour there. Plus we'd have one of our own take care of her, and she'd get the exact treatment she deserves for assaulting a pair of officers. Now we have to wait for some doctor..." Sergeant Aldrich didn't trust anyone that made more money than him, he had a bit of an inferiority complex that was pretty noticeable. He was a strong, broad-shouldered man, a man that believed in certain values. The sort of values that men are meant to be the breadwinners of the household, the sort of values that place as women as being inferior to men. This is why he had a sort of loathing towards this woman now because she caught off guard. Because she outright challenged his values without even knowing.

Sergeant Aldrich was surprised though when Dr. Arkham showed up as quickly as he did. Here comes the doctor all high and mighty, even accusing Sergeant Aldrich of unforgivable behavior. "Hey champ, you do know she was tied up in vines right? We found her that way, we tried untying her and she attacked both of us. Got two good licks on both us before we were able to cuff her. She's been screaming bloody murder at us ever since. We'd appreciate it if you could take her off our hands, doc." Sergeant Aldrich's voice was rather condescending, being dismissive of the doctor without even introducing himself. He blamed the woman for Officer Grant's wounds, but Officer Grant was struck in the face a lot more than just once. The blows looked heavier and appeared as if they were caused by someone very strong

Sergeant Aldrich paused for a moment, still holding the woman very firmly. He'd glance at the name badge the doctor was wearing. "Doctor Jeremiah Arkham."

"Doctor Arkham, as in Arkham Asylum huh? Look at you, a celebrity like Doctor Oz or something. Ever think of starting a TV show doc?" Sergeant Aldrich would laugh heartily, as he had before. He'd then place a hand on Doctor Arkham's shoulder.

"You know I'm just kiddin' around. Right, Doc? We're all friends here." He smiled coyly, attempting to establish dominance in a way he was familiar with.

[Pamela Isley]

"It means a moment," the receptionist replied, her voice polite but flat. She might have gone on to explain that it would be, at most, a few minutes because Dr. Arkham wouldn't be doing anything that couldn't be quickly interrupted at this hour, but the sometimes strained relationship between the asylum and the police extended even to her - especially when someone dropping off a new patient was so overtly impolite.

Even as they waited, Pamela continued to struggle. One would think that she would be starting to get tired, but she was full of the sort of manic energy that would mark her as being truly out of her mind, in addition to the other signs of that. It also meant that even with the vines, the handcuffs, and testosterone-enhanced strength all keeping her contained, the struggle she was putting up was impressive even if it was fruitless. This was the sort of thing strait-jackets and padded rooms were designed for, if not gurneys with shackles. If the police officers had actually needed to wait an hour or two, it was actually possible that she'd tire out their strength, which was why equipment was better for it than people. Especially since equipment doesn't need to be paid by the hour.

In any event, though she was clearly out of touch with reality, she wasn't totally unaware of her surroundings - in fact, with Dr. Arkham approached that seemed to upset her because she managed to find the energy to struggle even harder. "MURDERERS!" she screamed in rage, the passion still fresh in her voice even if her voice was becoming more hoarse because of the number of times she'd said it already. She wasn't necessarily trying to outright attack anyone at this moment, but she was attempting to get free of the hands holding her in place.

Wherever her mind was, everyone around her was an enemy - not to be feared, but to be destroyed. And she recognized that she was in their clutches, so she had to fight them off because she had to destroy them. Fortunately for everyone around her, the place where her mind was at did not grant her a full awareness of what her options were in this fight, or this would be a real mess - as it was, the only violence she was able to cause was to the eardrums of those unfortunate enough to be in this room. Not that the asylum staff, especially, we're accustomed to the screaming of the insane. "MURDERERS!"

[Jeremiah Arkham]

Jeremiah’s home was Gotham City, he’d been raised there, and there had come to clasp his future. His future had led him out of the city for a time, but like a siren, the city had called him back. Jeremiah had, thus, dealt with the police force not just here, but also in other parts of the country and one thing never changed: there were always those who did not deserve their badge. Maybe at one point, Aldrich had, but the man who stood before him now certainly didn’t. His inferiority complex was largely on display and that was just how he looked at him when he entered.

Nothing Jeremiah hadn’t experience before, and here in Gotham with Loeb as Commissioner he seemed to fill his ranks with a surplus of people like this.

While Pamela once more began her glorious, but vain struggle Jeremiah just stared at both Aldrich and Grant. Her screams were shrill, but again, it wasn’t that unusual in patients such as her who were obviously suffering a psychotic break.

So what was his reaction to the thick condescension from Aldrich? His disrespect and his lies? He just nodded. "I can see the vines and if the manner in which she was strung up by them, I hate to say that untying her would have warranted her to lash out. She's clearly not in her right mind, Officer," he stepped forward, though kept far enough away from the woman's struggles. She could gain a second-wind (it was highly in doubt, but you didn't work in this field and not be cautious). “Aldrich. Officer Aldrich, I highly doubt she’d have attacked you if she was sane.” And really he found it more than just and amusing that she’d cracked the senior officer’s nose. As for Grant, his injuries were not caused by Pamela. He could see the force used on him had been more than the woman possessed.

“Yes,” he nodded casually, “as in Arkham Asylum. I’m the owner and director.” And not too good to get his hands dirty. He chuckled as Aldrich placed a hand on his shoulder, though on the inside he wanted to snort in disgust. “I should think about starting a show, but like you, I happen to like getting to interact with people in person.” He turned to the secretary. “Would you please, call any orderlies here to take the woman to a padded room. I’ll give her sedation, though I doubt in this state it’ll calm her much. Tell them to bring restraints as well.” He sighed. She was going to very much hate this.

She was all hyped up on adrenaline and mania and it would be some time before she finally wore herself out. Her body would be fighting the drugs, but she still warranted the dosage.

He then once more turned his attention to Aldrich and Grant, “And how about we give you two a look over too. We’re no Gotham General, but we can clean up your cuts and scrapes. Maybe a little pain relief?” He offered.

Offered so he could speak to Officer Grant alone.