shifted_logs | two crazy whores I MEAN

Who:

madamemoiselle
Where: Arkham Asylum
When: After her log with the Master
What: Diva finally returns to the asylum.
Warnings: They will bitch at each other, but probably nothing that bad.

It was hardest to return. She had promised herself when Eddie had released her that she would return in a week, no more. But one week had become two, two became three, and Diva had stayed out of the asylum for almost two months. It was easy to stay out. All she had to do was take a ghost's face and she was no one but a face in a crowd. The asylum and the government had no way to track her once she changed her appearance, not really. Diva considered on the second week to just become someone else. Amshel had taught her enough about such things. Take a face, start a new life, and everything would be different. She would have no choice but to be a normal human.

But she couldn't.

She couldn't help but feel the guilt every day she was out. Of course, she felt it every day she was in, too, but it was worse now. She could imagine Sam's face so clearly as he disapproved of her leaving. That was why she had to go back. But this time, she told herself, she wouldn't let Arkham belittle her so.

And so Diva sat in his office's chair, its back to the door. She looked through some of the papers that had been left on the desk with idle curiosity as she waited for him to come back.

It was the only time she would ever be glad that she drank his blood. It was hard, even painful, to take his form because of the restrictions the Twins had placed, but as long as she didn't speak, the guards hadn't known any better. It wasn't really that clever, all things considered, but she was quite proud of herself nonetheless and glad that the guards hadn't learned any better.

She just hoped Arkham would come back soon. There was only so much paper work she could read.

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Jeremiah Arkham had been doing his usual rounds. A walk through his asylum's halls. The usual visit to his special patients had lifted his spirits. It was good to feel appreciated, to know that at least some patients recognized his hard work and talent. Even the usual taunts he received as he walked the halls could be numbed after those visits. Not that numbing was necessary. He knew what the majority of his patients were, they were unwell, and their words were meaningless in that regard. Sticks and stones, as they say.

He opened the door and stopped short however as he realized someone was sitting in his chair. Dr. Leland would never be so presumptuous or bold. None of his doctors would be, not even the most arrogant or inexperienced. Perhaps it was the Bat, or Jonathan, or perhaps the Joker. The form was too small though, too small and slight and couldn't possibly be any of those three. Harleen was a possibility, but he had just seen her during his rounds as well, or perhaps it was Jane Doe or Pamela. He pushed down that feeling of shock however, and perhaps there was a little outrage there as well. They were unnecessary emotions that would only make whatever situation he had walked into even worse.

Instead he cleared his throat, his tone turning into something detached and laconic.

"I do appreciate your enthusiasm, but I do maintain office hours for most. Simply scheduling an appointment would have proved much easier for both of us, I'm sure."

The giggle that came from his chair was telling enough for him to know right away who it was, but she turned the chair halfway anyways for him to see her face to confirm his suspicions. It was a natural response to feel something when someone had suddenly taken over your office, but it was only noteworthy because Arkham had tried to hide it. She wondered how long it would take him to learn that she could, in a way, hear his emotions regardless. The quickening of his heartbeat was just as telling as any tone of voice.

"You know, I don't actually think it would be. It might be easier for you, but it'd be a lot harder for me," she said airily. Diva made a point of setting the papers she had been reading back on his desk so that he would know what she had been doing. Even if she fully intended to behave, she couldn't help but to deliberately try to annoy him or make him angry.

"Ne, but you should be happy that I'm back at all. I thought about just taking a new face and disappearing forever."

He watched the papers settle back on his desk, maintaining his composure as best he could. Still, he felt something stir in him that only a handful of people could inspire. A loss of nerves and composure and honest anger. All these things were best kept hidden however, and Jeremiah had enough practice that he could do a very good job of hiding these things. Although, to be fair, most of these instances did not involved vampires who could hear a heartbeat and measure those emotions most tried to keep hidden. It was an unfair advantage to say the least, an unfair advantage that Jeremiah liked to pretend didn't exist at all.

"You could have made a request with your therapist and I would have been happy to visit you personally. Remind me again, who has been overseeing your day to day care?"

He thought how unfair it was too, how many unhealthy people seemed to move around like chameleons, hiding behind masks or finding ways to change their faces or sometimes both. How unfair and how dangerous and how very unhealthy for an individual to try to bury so completely who and what they are. He contained any emotions he felt towards the intruder and this disturbing trend amongst his patients, noting only slightly the irony of his thoughts compared to his very own actions and attitudes.

He moved towards the window in his office, at a loss for a moment and not knowing where to go with his chair occupied. It was still about appearing unfazed. It was still about maintaining some semblance of control. There were still walls that needed to be held up and Jeremiah was not about to let them crumble. Besides that, there was an odd peace that came in looking out over the grounds of his asylum. An odd peace and an odd anxiety that seemed to contradict each other like most things in this place.

"Why did you come back?" he asked, his tone light and pleasant, as if discussing the weather with a stranger on a train.

"No one has. Only me."

She smiled as she watched him move to the window. It wasn't a malicious smile, but instead teasing and playful. Diva was glad to hear the anger since it was especially hard to inspire in him. It was a game that even she knew that many of the inmates played with Jeremiah, and she was glad to be a part of it.

But her teasing smile fell as he asked, though she knew it would come. Partially, she knew the answer. There was guilt, but something else, too. It was something deeper than guilt imprinted upon her by an especially moral human, but that was so much harder to admit to even herself. After all, it was like the Doctor said. There were people on the Plane that were willing enough to take care of her and to hide her away from her own world. Remus especially would have likely been glad to, she was almost sure, and she could have lived a life with him in a world full of magic and wonder. But she hadn't.

Diva tried to match his lightness in tone, but she couldn't manage quite the same level of indifference. "I probably shouldn't have, really. I'm sure that you'll still treat me awfully and refuse my existence just like sister, but...this is where I should be, isn't it?"

It was essentially a noncommittal and nonspecific answer, but there was so much more than that. Living alone, she felt just as abandoned and lost as she had the day that Sam left. Her leave being punctuated with a visit from a man who shared Sam's face but with danger that she couldn't understand had only made it worse. She knew, if he had asked, she would have done anything for the Master, just to hear the praise in his voice or to continue to see him. Ironically, it was because of Sam that the idea scared her at all.

He turned around to face her finally, finding himself almost surprised at her words. She admitted she belonged here. So many of his patients did in the end though, didn't they. Yet like so many prodigal children, they fled home only to come back sooner or later, declaring the error of their ways yet doomed to repeat their actions even after being accepted once again. It was part of their sickness. It was part of his job to cure them of this disease.

"You believe this is where you belong?"

Acceptance was the first step to recovery after all.

"I believe that I've done something wrong and that I need to pay for those crimes," she said gently, "but I don't want to be here, so don't confuse that at all. There's a reason why I went through the trouble of taking your face to sneak in here rather than coming to the front door."

Diva twirled some locks of hair around her fingers idly. Her eyes were locked on his own, very carefully observing every movement. She had thought that when he found her in his office, he might raise alarm, but luckily, he hadn't. It didn't mean that he wouldn't, but she didn't want to give him a reason to.

She turned her eyes to her hair as if it were much more interesting than the topic at hand. "I was thinking, though, it's funny. Doctor...No, just Crane's betrayal is what brought me here at all, yet he caused so many things. I thought I would be happy if I could be his instead, but he ended up being just a smaller little Josef."

two crazy whores I MEAN

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