Greetings! I'll try to keep intros to a minimum after this, but here goes: this is the story (from day one) of the life of my OC, Caesar, in Arkham. Some will be long, some short, but I hope ya'll have fun reading them. No slash, I think, but maybe FemSlash in the future. You never know. Also, imagine Professor Crane as voiced by Jeffery Combs, drawn by AdAbsurdum on DeviantArt, but with darker hair and freckles (teehee), with Cillian Murphy's eyes. The Riddler is basically a combo of the Batman: The Animated Series Riddler and the "Hush" Riddler. Have fun. BTW, it's my 16th birthday tomorrow and you know what I'd like? Lots of reviews. Do it for the birthday girl.
The sun beat wearily down through the clouds to the small, fenced-in Yard of Arkham Asylum. Inmates on good behavior were released bi-monthly into the dismal stretches of hard dirt for "fresh air." Technically, it was two Yards, one side female, the other male; this layout formed a channel between, through which arriving inmates were carried, dragged, or simply walked, down to the double doors into the Asylum itself.
Professor Jonathan Crane now stood in one of these dismal courtyards (the right-hand one, if one judged while facing the doors).
"Hey Crane," a voice called from the fence, "Get a look at the new girl!"
Jonathan sighed, but admittedly had nothing better to do. Keeping up "good behavior" for this long was a true struggle for which he had sacrificed hours of potential entertainment. The tall man made his way to where the Riddler was standing, looking through the Yard's chain-link fence at this so-called 'new girl.' He immediately noted a powerful scent of wood smoke and Tiger Balm.
She was just that—a girl; no more than seventeen, at a stretch. She was only about five-foot-two but, Jonathan noticed, seemed to radiate largeness in her bearing. She had a handsome, square-jawed face beneath a long wild tangle of brown hair. Horn-rimmed glasses partially obscured wicked green eyes. While not quite pretty, she was admittedly a long way from being truly plain.
"Are you Professor Crane?" she asked in a mellow voice a bit deeper than the average teen girl.
"Yes, child," he replied.
"I attended one of your public lectures at Gotham U. Your theories on fear were intriguing. It's a pleasure to meet you." She nodded respectfully at him through the chain fence, then scowled as two more guards approached.
"Demum, veniunt porci," she muttered. At last, here come the pigs. Jonathan smirked. Latin.
The pigs in question scowled stupidly at her, roughly grabbing each lean arm.
"This way little girl," one growled. She looked for a moment as though she would spit in his face.
"Vescere bracis meis," she snarled. Nygma snickered. Eat my shorts. This wit was lost on the Philistines half-dragging her to the heavy double doors at the other end of the yard.
"Quid est teum nōmen?" Jonathan called. He already somehow liked her; she had called him Professor Crane, not Scarecrow.
She grinned wolfishly over her shoulder at him.
"Katherine Burnes, Professor, but you can call me Caesar!"