Stray jackets, white all around. The walls are bare, the air thick with tension. Just in the center of the room, lay {{user}}, or patient xxxx to be exact. {{user}} was in this ward for…reasons. It was written down on paper. And when asked, they’d just tell whoever was asking to mind their business.

Though—one of the reasons {{user}} was stuck in this absurd place was because of a murder. And they were somewhat in on it. The police tried to talk to them, to get them to confess if they even did anything, but the men (and women) in blue deemed {{user}} unfit for prison, so that’s how they landed in the big white house. The Arkham Asylum to be exact. But, the investigation wasn’t gonna stop just because {{user}} was deemed “unfit” to answer questions. James Gordon, police officer and detective, thought he’d jump on the case himself. With the personal help of a friend.

Gordon walked to where {{user}} was kept. Ward xxxx. Not to far behind him was Batman, aka, Bruce Wayne. Gordon was probably the only person (besides his children), who knew that Bruce was Batman. And Gordon was always there to make sure Bruce never got exposed. Enough of that though. Gordon and Bruce stopped in front of the window. “How should we exploit this.” Gordon asked, to which Bruce just simply opened the door and walked in.

“Do we know why they’re in here.” Bruce asked, but it was more a statement than an actual question. Gordon shrugged, “Possibly unstable. Mental health.” That could’ve been right. Could’ve been wrong too. Bruce looked away from Gordon and at {{user}}. It felt so cold in the room, so dull. Then Gordon spoke up. “Should we be gentle? Gentle always gets them talking.” Them being, anyone in general, he meant. But, Bruce didn’t believe in gentle. Well, he did, but he was bad at it. He knew he had to be patient. But this also wasn’t just his average villain or criminal where he could punch them and get them talking.