Dr. Johnson hated new arrivals, especially when they were so late at night and even more so when he was just about to walk out of the door and go home. Out of all the nights some lunatic could pick, why tonight? The African-American man walked out of his office towards the examination room in a huff, hoping to God his wife wasn't going to get angry over missing dinner with their new neighbors; between a psychopath interview and dinner with some strangers, he would rather deal with the latter and be done with Arkham altogether.

"Alright, what's the story with this one?"

Johnson never broke his stride as he took his glasses out of his uniform pocket and muddled through the folder that had been placed on his desk earlier. There wasn't much on this one other than certain reports made by a couple civilians and the cab driver's report, and even those had scarcely anything. Opening the door, he walked to his usual chair and pressed a button for the intercom outside to know he had arrived.

After a few minutes the door opened and a large burly man in a security uniform entered. Before fully coming into the room, he turned to grab the "psycopath" behind him from the other security guard and plunked him into the only other chair in the room before walking to a corner near the door, keeping watch as stiff as a statue.

Dr. Johnson turned his attention to the young man in front of him and raised an eyebrow, a keen interest already growing. The minute the new arrival had walked in, the doctor had already begun an analysis of the patient based on his first appearance and started to take notes. As all good doctors here at Arkham had learned, sometimes the first appearance led to understanding a bit about the patient and their background, mental stability, and all sorts of other hidden secrets the patient may not want to share. True some were harder to decipher than others, but trying was always half the battle.

Starting with basic first glances, the man looked like a fairly normal twenty something year old. His skin was a healthy light tan and his well-toned body made it clear that he at least worked out every day. Orange hair was swept up in a sideways motion on either side of his face, faint black patterns running through it as if they were tiger stripes of some sort. An interesting hairstyle, but Arkham had seen stranger things in these walls.

Moving from his face and examining the upper body, he noted a black tank top that had seen better days. Due to the conditin of it, some of his upper body was visible and it was riddled with scars. Come to think of it, his whole body other than his face seemed to be scarred up pretty well. Could this individual be part of a gang? Maybe he was abused as a child?

Thankfully, unlike the last patient Johnson had before his supposed end of the day, the patient was civil enough to wear a pair of pants. The pants themselves looked like a pair of dark grey jeans that were as ripped as the tank top the man had on. A red sash-like belt held up the pants and the Chinese symbol engraved on the belt buckle completed his attire. Symbols always were intriguing as they gave a better insight into how the patient thought or what interested them. Wonder what this one meant..?

The sound of the guard clearing his throat made Johnson blink; how long had he been writing notes ?

Clearing his throat, the doctor looked the arrival in the eye and was about to say something when he slightly recoiled. Those eyes…they were clearly something Johnson had not expected. Dark green irisis were shadowed by a pupil that was slitted, almost like a cat of some kind.

Those feline eyes were contacts...right?

"So, nice weather hmm?"

Johnson waited for a response, but the man simply blinked and never took his eyes off of the doctor. Apparently small talk wasn't working on this subject...which overall was not very surprising; many people started with this phrase whenever something more serious was on the topics list. He had meant to ease the arrival into a conversation but it seemed a different approach was in order.

"Alright, well can I have your name? I think it would be easier to talk to you if I knew your name."

The man brought his hands, which were hadcuffed for safety reasons, up to the table as if to change his sitting position, yet he stayed silent. Looking at them, Johnson realized that where fingernails would be, claws were slightly retracting and popping out. This man was definitely not normal...was he some kind of mutant or an alien?

No, now was not the time to assume such stupid things. The claws could have been a birth defect or some sort of gentic testing gone wrong. There was always a logical explanation for everything, and there was an explanation as to why this man was here in Arkham today.

However, after many more minutes of silence, it seemed this one didn't want to talk at all. Johnson was getting nowhere and his frustration was growing. Looking over at the guard, he was about to ask him to remove the new arrival when he noticed the man was trying to speak. After a few attempts, the arival swallowed and coughed a bit. Thinking for a moment, he motioned at the water cooler in the corner.

"You want something to drink?"

The man nodded and watched as Johnson filled the cup with water and sat it on the table. Looking att eh guard, Johnson nodded and waited as the guard rolled his eyes and walked over to help the arrival drink.

A few sips later, the man cleared his throat and nodded, waiting for the guard to go back tot he corner before he cleared his throat again.

"Thank you. You have been the first person to do something kind for me since I arrived here."

Johnson smiled slightly; he was finally making some progress and getting through to him. The voice was a bit gruff due to probable thirst, but Johnson knew he could help with that thanks to the water cooler.

"Well, Im glad I could finally have a chance to talk to you properly" Johnson chuckled. "I must say you are one of the more happier people I have met today."

The man blinked, unmoving as when he first arrived.

Johnson's smile dropped and he sighed a bit, getting a bit nervous from how the arrival's eyes had so serious and unemotional the whole time he had been here.

"So...may I please have your name?"

The man shifted a bit as if he was contemplating whether or not to say his name. Finally he seemed to sigh and reclined a bit.

"My name is Tai"

The doctor sighed with relief; even if it wasnt his real name, any name was good to go on right now.

"Well Tai, thank you for telling me your name. May I please also ask something about your...appearence?"

Tai blinked and tilted his head curiously, "What I am is what you see before you with your own two eyes. How is there any confusion?"

Johnson raised an eyebrow, "But what may that be? I mean to me you look…"

The arrival suddenly realized what Johnson was saying and he seemed to slump a bit, his brow furrowing. And from under the table, a tail suddenly swayed upwards and flicked irritably. "My appearance upsets you?"

Johnson's eye twitched slightly, this was slowly not going well at all. His confirms on something..inhuman...were finally starting to unfortunately enough become a reality. Of all the nights, why did it have to be a freak?

Tai raised himself upright again, his demeanor changing as he frowned and his eyes narrowed even more. "Why am I here?"

The doctor did his best to relax, adjusting the papers on the table that he until just now forgot about. He was easier to talk to then the man who riddled or that insane clown, but his rising anger wasn't helping the interview at all. Not only that, but now he was asking the question that was always hard to answer if you were a doctor for an asylum for the insane.

"The reason why you are here is because of a few things. Other than your little incident with the cabbie and people around the car at the time-"

The inhuman snarled, his teeth gritted in rage as he quickly stood up and slammed his fists on the desk...which didnt help Johnson at all as he saw that the teeth themselves were sharp and pointy, finishing off the feline appearance.

"All I asked was where I could stop for a bite to eat and a hotel to stay in!"

Seeing the sudden change in the arrival's demeanor, the guard took a step forward and placed his had on the riot baton strapped to his waist. But johnson was quicker and he raised his hand to both try and calm the cat human down and to let the guard know that he was alright for the time being. "There is no need to shout. I believe you, but the problem is people are not used to…things like you."

Tai's eyes narrowed menacingly, making Johnson feel a trickle of sweat go down his brow. Maybe he should not have said that last phrase.

"Listen…Tai was it?" Johnson knew backtracking was the only option, "The best thing to do right now is to wait and find out why you are here and when you can leave. Should only be a few days or so and then you can go. Understand?"

The inhuman continued to glare at Johnson as he sat down, immediately looking at the glass the water and going back to the silent treatment as Johnson motioned for the guard to take him to his quarters. Forcefully, the guard picked Tai up by one of his shoulders and scowled at him as if waiting for the cat-human to make a move of escape, but Tai let himself be taken out of Johnson's examination room and be led down the hall towards wherever his new supposed "living quarters" were.

Johnson watched the two go down the hall and finally sighed wih relief, wiping his brow. The poor guy; one day in Gotham City and he is already with the freaks. Hope the Rogues Gallery doesn't make its mark on him too much…

But the freak was no longer his concern. Now he had to worry about his wife and a cold dinner that was presumably waiting for him at home.