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"... happy face~ Brush off the clouds and cheer up. Put on a happy face! Take off the gloomy mask..."

"Is she still going?" The brunette thirty-something-old man with forest green eyes asked with slight astonishment, adjusting the frameless eyeglasses on his face as he watched a pigtailed blonde skipping to the beat of her song. Somehow, she was making the standard issue gray jumpsuit of patients look fun to be in.

"You're asking as if you expected her to be done by now." A taller and more spindly man at least ten years the other's senior replied without so much as a glance away from the thick novel in his hand. This auburn-haired man's name was Jonathan Crane, otherwise known as 'The Scarecrow'. His current companion was Edward Nigma, alias Riddler. Finally, the subject of conversation was Harleen 'Harley Quinn' Quinzel and her capability of singing the same song on repeat for over an hour. All were currently in the Arkham Recreational Room after a lunch of cheap mashed potatoes and meatloaf. It was nothing gourmet, but to call it slop would be stretching it.

In any case, the two were sitting on one of several couches that littered the spacious room. This was one of the less beaten ones that had no TV or window in front of it, so it was used more sporadically than others. It provided a little more than enough light to read by, so it was ideal for the Prince of Puzzles and Master of Fear. The former spoke after a light shrug.

"Not done, per say, but surely the guards would have ordered her to cease by now. At the very least, 'Puddin'' would have requested it." Edward remarked while writing the next answer to his crossword puzzle. He technically was not supposed to have one, but he pestered the administration to at least give him the one from the newspaper so he wouldn't cause trouble such as sending viruses to the asylums' computers.

Jonathan gave Edward a raised eyebrow at this, replying "What makes you so sure it wasn't him that put her up to it? The two have a penchant for trying to aggravate the staff."

"Because even the loudest of men can only handle so much noise." Was the reply, but it hadn't come from Edward.

The turning of two heads revealed a short man of blonde hair and clear blue eyes walking to the couch with a slight hop in his step, his hand up in a polite wave to the other males. This was Jervis Tetch, the self proclaimed 'Mad Hatter' of Gotham City.

"You're late late late for an important date, Tetch. What kept you away?" Edward taunted with a smirk, getting an eyeroll from Jonathan and a chuckle from Jervis.

"Not what. Who. And, if you must know, it was the Queen herself." The mid-thirties man replied, though he realized his mistake of not clarifying which Queen he was referring to.

White, I mean. Although, Red is a bit distracting today, isn't she?" Jervis remarked, gesturing to Harley with a flick of the hand as the word 'Red' left his smiling lips.

Narrowed eyes signaled Edward was suddenly unhappy, putting his pencil behind his ear as he asked Jervis "And how did she have kept you away, Hatter?"

"Words from a conversation most lovely. Such brilliance in that mind, I must say." Was the reply, which might have had more to it if Jonathan hadn't interrupted.

"Oh believe me, Hatter, Caterpillar is well aware of that. Or, he would be if he could say more than a derogatory statement disguised as a riddle to her highness." The older man's sarcastic tone along with the Wonderland nickname didn't go well with Edward, who passed the older man a glare before speaking.

"Well, March Hare, I have nothing else to say to Queen Copy-Cat other than what she deserves to hear. That she is trying to ride my tailcoats because her primitive blob of gray matter can't come up with-"

"-Anything of her own original design, and it sickens me to where I would take a batarang to my servers over watching any more of her stunts. I hope she finds herself before Gotham finds her in the bay." The sound of a female voice finishing his statement made Edward pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance, the other two men turning to the speaker.

"Are you a mind reader now, ?" Jonathan asked, getting a smirk in response. The woman giving it was a fawn-skinned brunette of average build that had her waist length locks in a fairly neat ponytail that kept the front locks away from her trademark feature; 'Athena' grey eyes that were the size of medium almonds and currently had a spark of amusement.

"Thankfully, no. And if I ever gain that ability, may I forever lose my mind. It's just that, I received an email two nights ago and, call me crazy, but its message was eerily similar to Eddie-boy's monologue just now, identical if you replace a majority of female pronouns with 'you'. Did you get the same email or something?" ' ' replied, an accurate title considering that she had a few years before the age of thirty came upon her.

She got no vocal response from Edward, only a glare over the shoulder before he mouthed something only she saw. Whatever it was, it hit ' ' hard enough to cause a scowl.

Edward didn't normally have this much animosity with his fellow rogues, even if he got on almost all of their nerves. However, ' ' wasn't any other rogue. She was relatively new, having only broken out of Arkham three times and her body count was still under fifty. More important were the following three facts; her alias was 'Brain Teaser', she had a black and green costume, and her weapons of choice were based on items such as Rubix cubes.

In short, she was a younger, genderbent Edward. According to himself, at least.

Having witnessed arguments between the two standing beings before, Jervis wished to not see such a thing again. He tried appealing to the ego of the young woman.

"Now now, your highness, there is no need to fight. This is no game of chess you two play." Jervis stated with an innocent smile, to which he got the young woman to calm down enough to smile arrogantly.

"Oh, I'm not worried about a fight, Hatter. I just had the terrible mental image of Edward Nigma with a look of defeat on his features. I don't think my heart could handle such a pathetic sight." The brunette replied sharply, a certain blonde pausing in her singing to hiss like someone who had gotten burned. In either of the two meanings of the word.

Edward stood up just a bit too quickly at this, the man's nose at level with the woman's forehead as he remarked "Look, Charlotte, is it?"

"Carlotta." Came the correction. It was ignored by Edward continuing to speak.

"I do not have time to put energy on your tantrums when I need 120% of it on my own career. You know, the one that actually produces results." Harley giggled from her position in the room, Jervis and Jonathan sharing a look of 'Here we go again'.

"While ultimately failing at its primary goal. It's more making rubble than results, Eddie." The brunette stated in response, still smirking despite the insult.

"That's another thing. You are not my friend, therefore you have no right to give me these 'pet names'. My name is not Eddie, Eddie-boy, or 'God-forbid' Puzzles. It is Edward Nigma, though you are only fit to call me Master."

"Not until the third date, I'm not." Carlotta replied with a snicker, Harley guffawing off to the side while the tiniest dusting of pink came to Edward's cheeks.

Deciding they didn't want anything to do with the increasingly tense situation, Jervis and Jonathan proceeded to the nearby chess table to play a round or two. Harley and a small gaggle of inmates circled around the argument, the blonde herself not taking sides as she found the battle of wits all around amusing.

{}

The tussle of wits was finally ended when dinner was called, both participants having to be dragged out of the room by guards despite the fight never getting physical.

In the main room of the Iceberg Lounge of Gotham's Diamond District, minutes before it was to open its doors for the night, a rotund and short man in a tuxedo with monocle called out in a Cockney "May! Get ya ass over 'ere!"

It was a few moments before a head of wavy blonde hair looked up and a woman adjusted the green plastic visor on her head, walking over to her boss with a nonchalant expression. Marilyn "May" Markowitz, or "Trick Deck" to the Gotham Underworld, was the bartender and card dealer to Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot, who also went by the Penguin. She was essentially his second-in-command, so him calling her to a private conversation wasn't unusual. She had nothing to fear as far as she knew.

She stood to the left of the man as she spoke "Yeah, what do ya want? We're gonna be open soon, you know."

"Don't think I don't know when my own bloody business opens." He stated with a puff of his newly lit cigar, the smoke going over the map of Gotham that May finally took into account was there.

"What's that for?" She asked, eyebrow raised

"I'm thinking of expanding the 'back-door' business, a' course. It doesn't 'urt to have more than one nest egg to sit on, just in case somethin' 'appens. Just trying to find a good location. Most important part." Penguin replied without looking up from the map, a black marker in hand as May gave a hum of understanding.

"Shouldn't be too hard. Gotham's got more abandoned buildings than Croc's got scales"

Penguin cackled from the joke, though it only lasted before replying "Yeah, but that's not the problem. If I pick the wrong one, I could be starting a war with any of those psychos that want it for a hideout. Got ta narrow the choices down to where that won't 'appen."

May gave the map a closer examination, remarking sarcastically "Then that old fairgrounds ought to be perfect for you."

She was met with a deadpan glare instead of the intended laugh, making May uncomfortably shift on her feet as Penguin went back to scanning the map. He would cross out any 'problem places' with the black marker, going through the map as quickly as he scarfed down a fish.

Distracting herself with the map to feel less awkward, she double-taked at an area that took her interest. Turning to Penguin, she asked "So,...what about that one?"

Penguin followed the pointer finger and took his cigar out of his mouth, blinking a few times as he read the title. He scanned the size of the space as well, making his eyes narrow in thought.

"...I don't know." Penguin remarked, a hand resting his chin as he glanced between his bartender and the district she was showing him.

"Ozzie, baaaaby~ Would I ever steer you wrong?" The dealer cooed with a charming smile, boldly leaning on her boss's shoulder with her elbow keeping her up.

This was met with a quick retreat of the shoulder being rested on and a gruff order "May. Don't fucking touch me. Or call me 'baby'. It's distractin'."

Not wanting to upset her temperamental boss/crush, Mary managed to clearly state a quick but startled 'Yessir' before speed-walking away so she could return to wiping her bar counter.

Penguin sneered a bit before looking back down at the map, uncapping a red marker and circling the place May had pointed out;

Dixon Dock.


So yeah, we haven't started the main plot yet technically. Or have we? :giggles:

Now, just to remind everyone, I mix canons in this story, so I also mix portrayals. EX- Every picture of Trick Deck and Penguin I've seen has him as B:TAS type. Here, I'm going more along with the Rocksteady videogame version, with some sophisticated jerk-wad mixed in. Be prepared for some weirdness

...although, since this is about mental patients getting pen pals, you should have expected that anyway.

See you soon, and here's hoping I don't leave you hanging for as long as I did

Carlotta Levair/Brain Teaser belongs to PumpkinPrincessJac AKA TheBrainTeaser on deviantart

May Markowitz/Trick Deck belongs to embrace-your-inner-dork AKA the-dragon-childe on deviantart

Dialogue from "I don't know" to "Yessir" belongs to

Beginning sentence belongs to "Put On A Happy Face" from 'Bye Bye Birdie'