Post by Deleted on Dec 10, 2012 23:54:10 GMT -4
The small room was silent and the tension level was rising exponentially as Harleen was cramped into the room. It was just her and another one of her colleagues. This was the first session Harleen was doing with a more high profile patient. Before today she had been working with Victor Zsasz and small time criminals who plead insanity to avoid jail time or maybe even just had a mental breakdown. But finally, she was moving up the food chain, soon she would be able to handle cases like Joker. But before she could try and overcome and conquer that mind, she would have to prove her worth with these high profile cases. I mean they weren't a joker but still considered lethal and to be handled with care and caution. The road to recovery was bumpy enough without trying to pry open their damaged psyche.
The blonde woman stared into the room. The lighting wasn't the greatest as it was a single fluorescent light centered on the ceiling. The light wasn't even that powerful as it flickered bringing the room into attention and every so often the room became engulfed in total darkness, lost in its very own absence of color. Harleen wasn't at all frightened by being in a dark room with a damaged person. She was a hardened person, someone feisty and she sure as hell wasn't afraid to stand up to a patient if they got out of line. Some of the doctors preferred to simply remain friendly with their patients, never stepping out of line or breaking character. They remained neutral and pleasant to their patients.
Harleen's pulse remained same as her breath kept itself at a steady pace. The tension was peaking as the blonde psychiatrist felt the stress radiating off her companion. She had been employed at the asylum much longer then Harleen had, in fact she was one of the many people who helped Harleen get to this level that she had obtained today on the business level. Maybe the amount of time she had spent in here really was starting to get to her. Mostly the asylum was terrifying during your first few months but perhaps as time went on, slowly the patients cries at night and hysterical laughter finally would claw its way into your mind driving you to insanity as most of your patients.
So far Harleen had been handling all this rather well. Not allowing them to pry her open and break down her psyche and have her fall victim. The girl was strong and she knew it. The blonde stood taller next to her colleague as she was wearing a pair of plain black heels with a black pencil skirt and a blonde blouse. In her hands she held the patient file, flipping through the file trying to figure out just how she should approach such a high profile case as this. Although she didn't show it, but she was sort of nervous for this meeting but she would be sure to handle it as though he was just an average person, not a patient in a mental asylum.
Closing the file, Harleen looked back up to the flickering room for a second before checking her wrist watch, she noticed that the patient hadn't arrived yet. The only thing that was placed in the room was just a rectangular, stainless steel table, bolted to the floor sat directly in the center of the room while two chairs were positioned on either side of the table on the lengthen side. Holding the file to her side, Harleen adjusted her glasses which say loosely on the edge of her nose. Her bangs were hanging over her glasses on the left side while the back of her hair was bound tightly in a bun. She tried to look professional for the job so that her patients didn't forget who it was who was controlling a situation. That was why she carried herself so high all the time. She believed that body language spoke a lot louder and told more about a person and a situation then the dialogue actually said. If you are in a room and a woman is wearing a sort of blouse and pencil skirt with heels looking professional and a man in an orange jumpsuit sits across from her, you'll assume the woman commands the situation because immediately, her physicality tells you she is of high status.
Taking a deep breath, Harleen exited the mirrored room and entered the interrogation room. Closing the door behind her, she assured herself that the door was closed as the click echoed through the tiny room. Her heels tapped with each step she took as she slowly made her way towards the chair closer to the wall. Her breathing seemed to intensify but not drastically as she kept her calm and dominative facade present in her physicality. Taking a seat, her left leg crossed over the right leg and slid down until the sides of her legs were almost in contact. She kept the file closed, sitting on her lap as it would be a tool she could bring up during the session. Allowing her eyes to flutter shut for a moment, the blonde allowed herself to collect her thoughts and organize them in a moment before the locking mechanism for the door slowly creaked open and the solid metal door squeaked open, echoing through the small flickering room. Suddenly her deep blue eyes shot to the entrance as the man was introduced to the room. Showing some pleasantries, Harleen raised from her seat and greeted the man. "Hello, I'm Dr. Quinzel. Please, have a seat Mr. Dent." As she spoke, she gestured to the chair adjacent to hers.
The blonde woman stared into the room. The lighting wasn't the greatest as it was a single fluorescent light centered on the ceiling. The light wasn't even that powerful as it flickered bringing the room into attention and every so often the room became engulfed in total darkness, lost in its very own absence of color. Harleen wasn't at all frightened by being in a dark room with a damaged person. She was a hardened person, someone feisty and she sure as hell wasn't afraid to stand up to a patient if they got out of line. Some of the doctors preferred to simply remain friendly with their patients, never stepping out of line or breaking character. They remained neutral and pleasant to their patients.
Harleen's pulse remained same as her breath kept itself at a steady pace. The tension was peaking as the blonde psychiatrist felt the stress radiating off her companion. She had been employed at the asylum much longer then Harleen had, in fact she was one of the many people who helped Harleen get to this level that she had obtained today on the business level. Maybe the amount of time she had spent in here really was starting to get to her. Mostly the asylum was terrifying during your first few months but perhaps as time went on, slowly the patients cries at night and hysterical laughter finally would claw its way into your mind driving you to insanity as most of your patients.
So far Harleen had been handling all this rather well. Not allowing them to pry her open and break down her psyche and have her fall victim. The girl was strong and she knew it. The blonde stood taller next to her colleague as she was wearing a pair of plain black heels with a black pencil skirt and a blonde blouse. In her hands she held the patient file, flipping through the file trying to figure out just how she should approach such a high profile case as this. Although she didn't show it, but she was sort of nervous for this meeting but she would be sure to handle it as though he was just an average person, not a patient in a mental asylum.
Closing the file, Harleen looked back up to the flickering room for a second before checking her wrist watch, she noticed that the patient hadn't arrived yet. The only thing that was placed in the room was just a rectangular, stainless steel table, bolted to the floor sat directly in the center of the room while two chairs were positioned on either side of the table on the lengthen side. Holding the file to her side, Harleen adjusted her glasses which say loosely on the edge of her nose. Her bangs were hanging over her glasses on the left side while the back of her hair was bound tightly in a bun. She tried to look professional for the job so that her patients didn't forget who it was who was controlling a situation. That was why she carried herself so high all the time. She believed that body language spoke a lot louder and told more about a person and a situation then the dialogue actually said. If you are in a room and a woman is wearing a sort of blouse and pencil skirt with heels looking professional and a man in an orange jumpsuit sits across from her, you'll assume the woman commands the situation because immediately, her physicality tells you she is of high status.
Taking a deep breath, Harleen exited the mirrored room and entered the interrogation room. Closing the door behind her, she assured herself that the door was closed as the click echoed through the tiny room. Her heels tapped with each step she took as she slowly made her way towards the chair closer to the wall. Her breathing seemed to intensify but not drastically as she kept her calm and dominative facade present in her physicality. Taking a seat, her left leg crossed over the right leg and slid down until the sides of her legs were almost in contact. She kept the file closed, sitting on her lap as it would be a tool she could bring up during the session. Allowing her eyes to flutter shut for a moment, the blonde allowed herself to collect her thoughts and organize them in a moment before the locking mechanism for the door slowly creaked open and the solid metal door squeaked open, echoing through the small flickering room. Suddenly her deep blue eyes shot to the entrance as the man was introduced to the room. Showing some pleasantries, Harleen raised from her seat and greeted the man. "Hello, I'm Dr. Quinzel. Please, have a seat Mr. Dent." As she spoke, she gestured to the chair adjacent to hers.