[h3][i]“Riddle me this, riddle me that...[/i][/h3]
[center][img]https://66.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mbv04nBvai1qg6rkio1_500.gif[/img][/center][right][h3][i]...Who's afraid of the big black bat?"[/i][/h3][/right]
The year is 2023. The Suicide Squad, comprised of the Task Force X team members, have successfully finished yet another mission. The monstrous entity, King Shark, has been returned to his home at Belle Reve Maximum Security Prison in Louisiana, and the world appears to be safe. Bruce Wayne, the ever so eligible bachelor, is invited to a charity auction the evening of November 5th. He will not appear. The board members of Wayne Corp. are not all too surprised, and his trusted butler, Alfred, makes a few hasty excuses. 

Bruce Wayne's absence is not without reason. Donning the dress of the Dark Knight, Mr. Wayne wears Batman's identity. On that particular evening, he is in the Burnley District of Gotham, home to its university and WGTU radio. But tonight, the eyes of history are upon the hospital. [url=http://i1289.photobucket.com/albums/b518/ThetaOswin/Mallory%20cloaked_zpsidnhg41k.jpg]A sinister figure[/url] is about, her feet not treading on the ground, as she glides instead. Her facial expression is vacant, and as she reaches each hospital room, a shriek follows her passing. 

Her knock signals who is next to die. And in this hospital, with those on the edge of life, that death comes quicker for some. A few patients die within moments of her greeting, others last a full day. Time is a fickle friend and death awaits none. And so she continues on, moving from room to room, methodic and cold in her approach. It's just a job to her, nothing to be ashamed of, and nothing to be particularly proud of. 

But just as she comes for the nearly dead, the Gotham Bat has come for her. The struggle is violent and lengthy, yet it ends due to the most simple natural weakness. More than allergic to iron, the Bat quickly uses this against her, until she too is in chains, shipped to Arkham for evaluation. But they cannot keep her there, no. They cannot contain Mallory Grimmoire, and tortured with iron shackles, they ship her to the same hole in Louisiana, the same swamp of dead dreams.

Now the year is 2043. Now the guards do their rounds of the prison, walking down its winding labyrinths, until they notice they are one prisoner short. Mallory Grimmoire is nowhere to be found. And throughout the cells of Arkham, the prisoners newly freed from the hellish institution, faint knocks can be heard drifting down the halls. Always thrice. 

Death has come.  
[hr][hr][h1][color=#a64dff][center]Folly Quinzel[/center][/color][/h1][center][img]http://68.media.tumblr.com/e7076ba383944585402924e3a33a756d/tumblr_mx3m5016TU1scb6izo8_250.gif[/img][/center][hr][center]Location: Arkham Asylum (Isolation Ward)
Day of the Week: Wednesday[/center][hr][hr]There was no light for the figure to step into, but Folly hardly needed it to identify the speaker. Her mind betrayed her emotions and her instinct, insisting that the famed assassin was still operating within Gotham at large. Just last week, her guardian had expressed frustration at the murder of a prominent scientist at Deadshot's hands, and wished that the Gotham Bat would be able to achieve some justice. 

Bruce Wayne, as far as Folly could tell, was a bit of a vigilante lover. 

[color=a64dff]"Floyd as in...Deadshot?"[/color] Folly asked slowly, her jittery hands stilling, as her mind righted itself. The manic episode from before had vanished, leaving hardly any trace that it had occurred beyond the dried blood on her hands. The names of Gotham's many districts, from Otisburg to Bristol County, echoed through her mind, helping with the stabilization. Her breath slowed as well, allowing her poor heart to cease pumping excessively, as if it was going to burst. 

[color=red]"Yeah, that's me alright,"[/color] the man said simply, without any embellishment or explanation. Folly couldn't explain what she was seeing or hearing. Her gut instinct was that it was real, but her mind told her it was impossible. She ran through the names of the districts again, her eyes shut. And by the time she opened them, the glowing red dart was still there. Deadshot was still there. 

[color=a64dff]"Did they incarcerate you recently?"[/color] Folly asked, confusion obvious in her voice. [color=a64dff]"I thought you completed a hit last week?"[/color]

[color=red]"Funny how that works, right?"[/color] Deadshot commented, with no trace of humor in his voice. [color=red]"I've been locked up nice and tight in here, while some asshole's been using my name to get street cred. Does that seem right to you?"[/color] The assassin shook his head slightly, and in the dark, Folly heard the rustling as he removed his helmet. It was odd, she thought, that they had allowed him to keep it. 

[color=a64dff]"Someone at the asylum did this?"[/color] Folly asked. Only silence answered her, and she took it as a yes. It was the only explanation she could think of, and with her own mother as an example, Arkham hardly seemed to be a healthy working environment. Perhaps another psychiatrist had gone rogue, and somehow managed to lock Deadshot away, and then take his place in the outside world. Still, she couldn't explain why they let him keep the mask. There was something wrong with the situation, something she couldn't understand.

[color=a64dff]"I'm not actually crazy,"[/color] Folly blurted, blushing slightly.