Jeremiah Arkham's Office
The Director of Arkham Asylum, Jeremiah Arkham was in his office filing paperwork. He had quite a lot on his hands after Mad Hatter and Two-Face were broken out. Especially with covering up his culpability.
He heard a ring and picked up the phone
"Hello, this is Jeremiah Arkham, director of Arkham Asylum."
"Jerry, old friend, you got a minute?" The voice was familiar. It was that of Black Mask.
Jeremiah Arkham was close with the Sionis family. His parents were concerned with Roman's behaviour and sent him to him- hiding the fact he went to therapy to the public and demanding no records be sent to the system. Dr. Arkham was paid handsomely for his compliance.
Jeremiah noticed there was a darkness in the child, and decided to help him control it, to funnel it into something productive. His methods were unorthodox, in fact they were downright abusive, but it helped Roman be more presentable to society, which satisfied his parents. Black Mask's memories of the events were repressed-but he feel Dr. Arkham did understand him compared to his hypocritical self-righteous parents. After all Jeremiah listened to him.
"I told you not to call me friend. You are my patient. It's not ethical for us to have an emotional connection, Mr. Sionis." Dr. Arkham's main concern was making him a target- if anyone found out Black Mask had affection for him. Black Mask might be the most powerful crime lord in Gotham, but that goes with having a lot of enemies.
"Right… of course... And Don't call me 'Mr. Sionis'". Black Mask snapped at him "I haven't worn that Mask for years. But is our appointment still ready?"
"Of course sir. I'm really sorry we've had so much delay. The Asylum had received a deluge of patients after the 4/6 incident caused by your recent associate. Ah, so many people saw their loved ones kill themselves in front of them. Would drive most people mad." Jeremiah smirked "I'll be able to treat your mental health issues at the scheduled time."
"I'm glad to hear business is going well. But uh, I don't have mental health issues. Just need a little counseling." Roman thought to himself that he wasn't like the loonies in Arkham. He was sound of mind.
'Oh please.' Thought Jeremiah. 'You made a mask out of your father's coffin. You're crazier than most lunatics in the asylum.'
He then piped up, "What do you need counseling for?"
"I finally did it- I raided the Batcave. Thought I'd get some closure from it, but- just- "
"Mr. Sio- I mean Mask, I am quite busy right now. I promise I shall visit you on our scheduled time. Maybe if you hadn't broken out two loonies, I'd have more time on my hand today."
"Ain't that ironic." Mask said back. "Alright. I'll see you then Dr. Arkham."
Dark Studios
"Here, go get yourself a meal."
A few coins scattered before Jervis' shoes. The feet of the giver simply kept going, abandoning the spare pennies he'd have no use for.
Sitting by garbage cans, Jervis peeked from under the hood of the puffy coat he hid inside. The stranger had startled him; he didn't want attention of any sort. At least he appeared like a homeless Gothamite; considerably invisible by most.
The money was wasted anyway; Jervis was not a beggar. He was merely sneaking out of Harvey's place on a personal mission. Across from him was the dark studio.
A few shakes of the head scanned for a clear street before taking his final dash.
The trash cans behind him clanked, making him glance behind until his vision filled with darkness as he barged through the door.
An overpowering smell of mould punched the nose. His shoe seemed to sink into rotted floorboards.
"Gah!"
Jervis fell from his careless charge. His hands scraped the dampened ground. He blinked his eyes in a stunned awe, pushing with his arms to hoist his upper torso. Looking like he stopped mid-push up, The Mad Hatter had a look at his home.
Everything was black. As far as the unadjusted eye could make out, scattered shapes of metal and plastic lined the studio.
"Oh…oh my…"
He rose.
"Oh…oh…"
Jervis began to tour the theatre. The faint evening light provided an eerie atmosphere, sparing him with only a partial view of the horror. He frantically whipped his head, examining what was done by what seemed like a prank by hooligans. The lush greenery and brightly dotted mushroom caps were dull, sad and blackened. Graffiti assaulted his paintings, words with no meaning written across lovely landscapes and handsome portraits.
The place was completely water damaged, as if someone turned on every source of water at once.
The Mad Hatter stopped at his throne. Everything was taken over by a colony of vengeful fungi. Everything in Wonderland was covered in mould.
He nearly tripped heading to a light switch. He flipped it but the shadows would not leave. He kept flipping, faster and faster and faster until-
"Argh!"
He slammed his fist into the wall, sliding it down its mildew-blackened surface.
Their sharp scent invaded his nostrils, aggressively mocking him with their rule.
Going into the basement was futile. He was essentially barred, unless he wanted to break his neck. Jervis could only continue to wander the first level, feeling like an unwanted guest in his own home.
His guillotine stood weakened but firm. It daunted over him, its blade rusted.
Did he even want this place anymore? Was it even his, or the mold's?
Amidst the ebony sheets that spread along the base of the rotting execution tool, an off-white ball lay crunched in the corner.
Jervis squinted.
"Oh-"
He lowered himself. What was seemingly white soon revealed its deep shades of green, black, red and purple.
It was one of his rabbits. It couldn't outrun the water.
The Mad Hatter cupped it into his hands. Its flesh was cold and slid off with each caring brush of his thumbs.
"Oh, dear."
He held his pet, taking it to his chair. The Mad Hatter sat upon a throne of decay.
"Oh, you've lost your whiskers…I'm late…I'm late…" He gently patted its only patch of fur. He didn't mind the rancid ooze that stuck to his palm. He never scolded his pets for their messes.
He continued to stroke it, the light around them beginning to retreat as night grew near.
"No time to say 'hello. Goodbye'…I'm late…I'm late…"
Two-Face's Hideout
He adjusted his black tie a few times.
Jervis took a good, long look at himself in the mirror. He didn't look like The Mad Hatter. He looked respectable, like a middle class, ordinary, working Gothamite.
He sniffed his navy blue suit, the scent of mould starting to fade. The brown vest underneath complimented his white dress shirt, its popped collar cradling his neck. The colours finally went together in a calm, sane fashion.
"Blue and green should never be seen."
He stared at the Tattoo adorning his eye. Sadly, it would have to be the last mark of his past.
He was ready for his new life, his 9-5 salary man existence. Whatever it was.
He looked at the card and picked up the phone.
He called up his future. He dialed Black Mask.
Black Mask looked at the phone. It was Mad Hatter. Looks like he came around.
"Jervis. How can I help you? Are you ready for your job?"
"Indeed."
He spoke calmly, with lucidity. No rhymes or cryptic quotes or anything nonsensical.
"I am ready to begin anew, thanks to you."
He smiled. Perhaps one rhyme could be alright.
"Good. My hats off to you, Jervis. It's simple, just help make some of those chips used to control people's mind, experiment on them, make them more resistant. I'll give you all the supplies you need. Your intelligence makes you valuable Jervis; one's hat is more than just a hat rack." Black Mask smiles at the hat quips he was making
Jervis fell quiet. This was no surprise; what other use could he have? But...this was much like his old job. A step toward going back to yesterday.
He laughed at Mask's joke. It was a soft chuckle.
"Thank you, Mr. Mask. I will need a small team of engineers ready to put together what I request. I can do research on my own. Oh! I will need some lab animals..."
He stopped himself.
"I...I will explain what I require when we meet. Many apologies for my...rambling."
He licked his dry lips, biting them in frustration.
"Where and when do I start?"
"There's a warehouse that I've converted into a laboratory for you to work with. I look forward to working with you there." His request was no big deal, although, maybe the chips would make it easier to find more engineers
Jervis grinned.
"Ah! Thank you! You have it all sorted out! I just need an address for my...in person interview."
He tapped his lap as he became more and more eager. Yet, he knew he had to take it slow.
"When do you want me to start?"
Dr. Tetch's Emporium
The laboratory was deep underground, to prevent it from being noticed. Jervis was given specific instructions on getting down there. Though, sadly none involved eating sugary snacks that changed your size.
The laboratory itself was rather a basic electrical engineering lab. Had electronic supplies, computers, components and computers. There was also an area with an MRI.
Lab rats were kept and bred in an area.
The room had a small team of amoral scientists that were paid off by Tetch. Several came from Daggett industries after it was forced to lay off many employees following Scarecrow's attack.
Tetch's supervisor would be Doctor Moon, someone who was on Black Mask's payroll for a while
The ride on the bus felt like an eternity.
A body, that of a slender young woman, sat beside Jervis. She glanced at him; she had no idea the person she had chosen to be near.
She'd never know. The Mad Hatter was covered in that same puffy coat. The heat was more uncomfortable than the strange stares from passengers wondering why anyone would wear a coat now.
Jervis almost shoved the woman with his large frame when it was his stop. She let out a small gasp. Jervis normally would have apologised, yet such politeness was not in the front of his mind. He wasn't sure this was the correct exact spot.
He had taken one stop too early.
The walk was more torturous being just one block away; his sweating would certainly ruin his work suit.
The instructions were at least simple enough to follow. The laboratory seemed to go quite deep; 'like a rabbit hole' as he'd once take delight in stating.
Jervis had limited time to take it all in. He pulled off his hood to make his face visible to the crew before him.
The older scientist struck intimidation into . He kept his gaze away, only looking at Black Mask.
Jervis smiled. His toothy grin went straight from ear to ear, appearing to cover his entire lower face.
Finally, Dr. Tetch spoke. His voice echoed and bounced around. The interview was now in progress.
"You certainly are real, Mr. Mask."
Black Mask took a look at his new employee "I hope you find this place... comfortable. And with all the supplies you need."
He turned around to show Tetch around "This is Dr. Moon. He will be your supervisor."
Dr. Moon looked at Jervis through his glasses "Charmed."
"Now I know there are times where one feels sad or upset- there is a nice quiet room for you whenever you need space." Black Mask pointed at the room. There was a bookshelf, and paper and drawing utensils.
"There's something I request of you. Nobody will know about our little alliance- not even any new person you see in the room. What we have together is something secret. If anyone asks- you are working for GothCorp, Not Black Mask. Capeesh?"
Jervis darted his eyes to get a proper look at his new work place. It certainly was superior to his former laboratory; he never even had his own staff before. He followed Black Mask like a lost puppy, shrinking himself in a show of submission.
And by the end, he now had to pay attention to his unsettling supervisor. He nodded timidly and only briefly offered eye contact.
"Hello...Dr...Moon..."
It was as though it was his first day at Wayne Enterprises all over again; he started to feel the same anxiety he had when he was introduced to Dr. Cates.
It was simultaneously a comforting and uncomfortable feeling, if that could ever be explained in the English language.
Jervis squinted at the little break area. He'd go there if he felt the need to be alone. "Thank-"
The man looked up at his new boss; this part was important.
Jervis listened. It was evident there were strings attached and motives to this work. He was no simpleton; it was a curse from birth. Whatever he worked on would be taken by other people's hands and their motives. He always knew this.
There was no point in letting that bother him this time. He had to do what he could to go back to yesterday. It already felt a little bit like yesterday.
Jervis nodded. His voice was weak and pathetic; all of the wonder was sucked out of it.
"A-Agreed."
He kept a flat expression when he answered. On the inside, however, there was a tornado of emotions and stress.
"Now, I am a very busy person and have to leave now. I'll leave you to your devices. I know this place is new to you, but I hope it grows on you." Black Mask begins to leave the building, hoping that the Mad Hatter would give him what he wants. If not, he'd get rid of him at the drop of a hat.
Jervis nodded when Black Mask announced his departure. He opened his mouth to say goodbye but he had missed his chance.
Embarrassed, he looked behind him. No one seemed to care of his foolish fumbles. He let little smile show. It was time to work.
He removed his coat and handed it to an engineer.
He moved forward as if on a mission. He yanked and slipped on a lab coat. Like it was an enchanted cloth, when it wrapped his sulking frame his gait grew proud and he stood up straight.
He was now the tallest in the room.
On his way, he stopped at the cage of rats. He leaned in and spoke to them, his voice a whimsical sound.
"Perhaps I can make you act a little more...civilized."
A gentle grin was given to a rat that sniffed up at his lips.
He stuck a finger between the bars, giving the animal a little nuzzle.
Jervis finally freed the rodent of his attention. Once inside the break area, he sat down. He took out a wide array of coloured pencils. He began to draw shapes in coded colours and scribble Ohms and volts with nearly unintelligible notes. He chuckled as his drawings spanned not one, but three white pages.
Dr. Tetch was in his special emporium, selling his coveted ideas and scientific secrets to this new, private buyer.
He had to complete his first order.
It would be money for old rope.