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raynewolfegirl · 29 days

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Meta Jazz, the Arkham Intern Therapist Pt1

Update 5/16/2024: Congrats guys, gals, and others! You have planted the seeds and they have grown. Today I wrote another 46 pages on this story (the first section was only 9 pages ya'll). I'm working on splitting it up into smaller sections so I can post it now because tumblr said no to doing it as one piece. I'll be using the tag #Meta Jazz Arkham Intern Therapist if you want to follow it.

Original Note: I'm going to go ahead and apologize for how OOC Bane is in this. It originally was Joker but I couldn't see Jazz tolerating his proximity for more than a single millisecond so Bane it is.

~*~*~

The hardest thing about being a Meta in Gotham was responding appropriately during a Rouge's attack, Jazz mused to herself. Or perhaps that was just the hardest part about being a Meta intern at Arkham while studying psychology at Gotham University. Or maybe it was just her, she considered watching the guards and Dr. Rylie whom she'd been shadowing for the past 2 weeks wide eyed, pale, and shaking as theybstared at Bane behind her. It must just be her, Jazz decided, newbie guard Kyle Jennings was definitely a Meta after all. She should probably give him some tips on hiding his enhanced strength considering how often he broke mugs, door handles, and other delicate items used in daily life.

"Weapons down or I'll snap her skinny little neck." Bane growled out, shaking her slightly for emphasis. She very much doubted that. Liminials were built different than the standard Meta, stronger, faster, better endurance, and senses even if they could mostly appear to be standard humans on the outside. As such, their bones and muscles were much were much denser than regular humans or even Meta humans. Technically, she could be considered "invulnerable" much like the Kryptonians are.

"Back up! Let him through!" Dr. Rylie shouted at the guards. "She's my student! Let him through!" His voice was higher pitched than she could recall hearing it before.

Ah. That was panic.

Jazz sighed involuntarily and glanced over her shoulder at Bane. Why the man had grabbed the only person close to his own height nearby was a mystery to her - no, nevermind, he clearly meant to use her as a shield - but it made looking him in the eye more difficult than necessary.

"Mr. Bane, remove your hands from my person, please." Jazz stated calmly, channeling what Danny called her inner mom as she spoke. "I will give you to one to comply."

Bane looked stunned for a moment then laughed.

"Five."

The laughing continued. Jazz could sense a stir of uncertainty through her colleagues as they looked on.

"Four."

"Did you really think that would work?" Bane snorted out, arms tensing more around her.

"Three." She continued, indifferent to his words from her experiences raising her brother. Once the count down starts you mustn't respond to anything the kids do or say until they comply or the count is done.

"What cab you even do if I don't?" Bane asked darkly breathing directly in her ear. She kept her face expressionless despite the urge to express disgust.

"Two."

"Jasmine..." Kyle whispered halfway across the hall from her looking on with a pained and horrified expression. Gun tilting towards the floor. Sloppy.

"One." She finished and Bane gave a derisive snort.

Then she was moving. Hauling the enormous man up and over her shoulder using the arm that had been wrapped around her neck. Bane hit the cold tile hard enough that the tiles, subfloor, structural supports, and part of the concrete foundation buckled beneath him. His shoulder popped out of joint, his wrist cracked - a hairline fracture by the sound of it - and his breath was punched out of him from the force of impact. She released his arm as soon as his was embedded in the tiles and moved forward. Kneeling over him, support most of her weight on her left foot resting on the broken ground, her right knees pressed firmly across his throat without supporting any of her weight. The position put more strain on her muscles than she would've liked but at least Bane couldn't risk fighting back without crushing his own neck in the process. He could hardly throw her while flat on his back with a mangled arm.

"Now," Jazz began, looking directly into the behemoth's pained eyes. "Do you know what you've done wrong?" She asked like she would have done with Danny as a child.

"Yes, Ma'am." Bane choked out. Jazz heard movement and murmuring behind her. She didn't turn to look.

"What did you do wrong?" She asked. It was important to make sure children correctly understood why they were in trouble after all. There was a long pause as Bane appeared to cast around for the exact right answer as if he feared getting it wrong. A bad habit Danny still uses as well, Jazz thought to herself.

"I tried to hold you hostage," He choked out in a rush, words tumbling over one another as he tried to get them all out. "I scared you coworkers and it was very disrespectful."

So he'd gone for the grab-bag response. It wasn't wrong per sey but it did indicate a past history of abuse. The type of answer given by someone who expected to be harmed or ignored if they gave the "wrong" answer. Danny tended to use that method also and their parents had always been negligent at best.

"And are you going to do it again?" She asked giving him a Look as she did. Bane's eyes widened and he tried to frantically shake his head as much as possible with the pressure on his neck.

"No, Ma'am." He promised fervently.

"Alright then," Jazz said giving him a warm smile. She gestured vaguely towards the guards without turning to look at them. "Kyle here is going to take you to see the nurse and then back to your room then. I'm sure you'll behave for him?"

"Yes, Ma'am. I'll behave." Bane said. Jazz stood slowly asking sure not to put any additional pressure on his neck as she did. Kyle came and stood next to her as the giant of a man slowly pulled himself to his feet then led him away with 5 other guards.

Jazz heaved a sigh. Well, time to find out whether or not she could play all that off as normal, non-Meta human behavior.

#dcxdp #dc x dp #dpxdc #dp x dc #jazz fenton #bane #arkham asylum #BAMF Jazz #Jazz is Danny's Mom #You cannot tell me that she didn't start viewing nearly every male around her as a child automatically after a life with Jack Danny and Vla #Feel free to add on #I was going to have one of the batkids show up toward the end #But it didn't have the same impact #And I don't think the guards had time to sound the alarm #Bane just got cleared from medical #Not even to his cell yet when he pulled this #Legit only tried because 'hey she's tall enough to be a human shield'#It was a bad decision lmao #Ngl Jazz's midwestern sensibilities would totally tell her Joker is a mad dog that needs to be put down #But I may be projecting #Meta Jazz #Arkham Intern Therapist #Meta Jazz AIT #MTAIT #AIT #Meta Jazz Arkham Intern Therapist #my original post #Because I reblog so much I now need that tag. lol

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kris33390 · 4 years

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Le maître du haut château

L’édition de 1970 est celle que j’ai lu en premier puis j’ai découvert une nouvelle traduction datant de 2012.

Comme je dois relire le livre, c’est la moindre des choses puisque j’ai conseillé sa Lecture au club de lecture. Bon en vrai, comme je suis un grand amateur de Dick et de sa vision schizophrène du Monde, j’en avais cité trois “Ubik”, “le dieu venu du centaure” et “le maître du haut château”.

Donc pour cette occasion je me suis penché un peu sur l’homme et j’ai même acheté un recueil de texte qui contient son fameux discours de Metz en 1977, sa conférence sur les mondes parallèles : « Si vous trouvez ce monde mauvais, vous devriez en voir quelques autres »

Metz, sa seule sortie des Etats-Unis lors du deuxième festival de science-fiction, où il a déclaré avoir passé “la plus belle semaine de sa vie”.

Philip K. Dick en haut, deuxième en partant de la gauche.

Cet article n’est pas une critique, juste quelques notes prises pendant la Lecture et remarques que, peut-être, seuls ceux qui ont lu le livre apprécieront, les autres savent ce qu’il leur reste a faire.

J’ai comparé, au début, les deux traductions sur un même passage et La traduction récente est un peu plus soft, il me semble. Malgré tout, par quelques passages que j’ai noté, elle est plus précise. Voici quelques notes et parallèles entre les deux traductions, quand il y a de grande différences.

Traduction de Jacques Parsons 1970 édition J’ai Lu (image de gauche)

(…) les spectacles aguicheurs, les films pornos ; qui fréquentaient les stands de tir, les boîtes de nuit à bon marché affichant des photos de blondes mûrissantes qui lancent des oeillades en laissant apparaître le bout de leurs seins entre des doigts ridés… les bouges à jazz et attractions minables

Traduction de Michelle Charrier 2012 (image de droite)

(…) en ouvrant de grands yeux devant les affiches des spectacles indécents, des films obscènes, des clubs de tir, des boîtes de nuit bon marché où s’étalaient en vitrine des photos de blondes trop mûres à l’air polisson, soulevant leurs seins de leurs mains ridées, des bouges de jazz. Ces bicoques branlantes avaient colonisé de leurs tôles et de leurs planches presque toute la zone

Un peu plus prude?

L’art vu par les nazis 2012

« Je crains de ne pas m’intéresser à l’art moderne, répondit son interlocuteur. Je préfère les cubistes et les artistes abstraits d’avant-guerre. J’aime qu’une peinture ait un sens, au lieu de se limiter à représenter l’idéal. » Il se détourna.

« Mais l’art existe pour cela, protesta Lotze. Faire progresser la spiritualité de l’homme, dominer sa sensualité. L’art abstrait symbolisait une période de décadence, de chaos spirituels, provoqués par la désintégration de la société et de son ancienne ploutocratie. Les millionnaires juifs et capitalistes, la coterie internationale qui soutenait cette émanation de la décadence. Son époque est terminée. L’art doit évoluer… il ne peut pas rester figé. »

Ça me rappelle l’exposition de Libourne en janvier 2019 ” 21 rue de la Boetie, Libourne ” d’après le livre d’Anne Sinclair. Voir photos.

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Traductions un peu différentes

« Il pouvait imaginer le Dr Goebbels en cet instant même, dans l’appartement de quelque étourdissante vedette de cinéma, regardant par la fenêtre avec dédain les unités de la Wehrmacht défiler dans la rue. Rien ne faisait peur à ce Kerl. Goebbels aurait ce sourire moqueur… continuerait à caresser de la main gauche le sein de cette ravissante dame, tandis qu’il lirait son article destiné à l’Angriff du même jour avec… » 1972

« Reiss imaginait très bien Goebbels à cet instant précis, en visite chez une actrice étourdissante – n’importe laquelle – plein de mépris pour les unités de la Wehrmacht qui patrouillaient dans les rues en contrebas. Ce Kerl n’avait peur de rien. Goebbels devait arborer son sempiternel sourire moqueur… en caressant de la main gauche les seins de la belle et en écrivant de la droite un article destiné à l’Angriff… » 2012

Dans la première traduction de 1972 il lit un article et dans celle de 2012 il l’écrit !

Passage complexe et traduction n’en facilitant pas la compréhension.

J’ai été obligé de recharger ma liseuse et, pour continuer la lecture, j’ai repris mon livre avec la traduction la plus ancienne. Et j’ai relu, parce que je ne savais plus où je m’étais arrêté, le passage où Childan revient voir auprès du japonais Paul si le bijoux qu’il lui avait donné pour sa femme lui avait plu. Passage qui se termine quand Childan demande des excuses à Paul. Je dois dire que dans la traduction de 2012 ce passage m’avais semblé assez hermétique alors que dans la traduction de 1970 je l’ai trouvé beaucoup plus clair et subtil.

Deux Extraits du discours de Metz

Pour préciser les choses : « En tant qu’écrivain de science-fiction, de telles idées m’attirent inévitablement, et en particulier celle que dans notre discipline nous appelons le thème « l’univers parallèle ». Certains d’entre vous, j’en suis sûr, savent que dans Le Maître du Haut Château j’utilise précisément ce thème. Il s’agit en effet d’un monde parallèle dans lequel l’Allemagne, le Japon et l’Italie ont gagné la seconde Guerre mondiale. Au cours du roman, M. Tagomi, le protagoniste, est étrangement transporté jusqu’à notre monde, dans lequel l’Axe a perdu. Son séjour y est bref et il retourne dans son monde en toute hâte dès qu’il entrevoit ou comprend ce qui s’est passé – puis il oublie toute l’affaire. En effet, l’expérience a été des plus désagréables puisque, en tant que Japonais, notre univers est pire que le sien. Pour un juif, bien entendu, il est infiniment meilleur – pour des raisons évidentes. Dans Le Maître du Haut Château, je n’ai pas vraiment expliqué pourquoi ou comment M. Tagomi parvient à voyager jusque dans notre univers : il était tout bonnement assis dans un parc, les yeux fixés sur un bijou moderne aux motifs abstraits – assis et étudiant l’objet en large et en travers –, et lorsqu’il a enfin levé la tête, il était dans un autre univers. J’ai renoncé à expliquer ce fait parce que je n’ai aucune ‘explication’ à fournir, et je mets quiconque – écrivain, lecteur, critique – au défi de le faire. Une telle ‘explication’ est impossible, parce que nous savons qu’un tel concept repose sur une prémisse entièrement fictive, et aucun de ceux d’entre nous qui sont sains d’esprit ne croit réellement, ne serait-ce qu’un instant, que de tels univers parallèles existent. Mais supposons, juste pour le plaisir, qu’ils existent en effet. Dans ce cas, comment sont-ils reliés les uns aux autres, s’ils sont effectivement reliés d’une manière quelconque ? Si on pouvait dessiner une carte montrant leurs emplacements respectifs, à quoi cette carte ressemblerait-elle ? Par exemple (et la question me paraît cruciale), sont-ils complètement séparés les uns des autres, ou bien se chevauchent-ils ? »

« Dans Le Maître du Haut Château, un romancier nommé Hawthorne Abendsen a écrit un livre sur un monde parallèle dans lequel l’Allemagne, l’Italie et le Japon ont perdu la seconde Guerre mondiale. À la fin du roman, une femme frappe à la porte d’Abendsen pour lui révéler ce qu’il ne savait pas : son roman dit la vérité, l’Axe a bel et bien perdu la guerre. L’ironie de cette conclusion – Abendsen découvrant que ce qu’il croyait être de la pure fiction était en fait vrai –, c’est que le fruit de ma propre imagination, Le Maître du Haut Château, n’est pas de la fiction – ou plutôt, que ce n’est de la fiction qu’à présent, Dieu merci. Mais il existait un monde parallèle, un présent antérieur, dans lequel cette singulière piste temporelle s’était actualisée – actualisée avant d’être supprimée par une intervention à une date précédente. Je suis convaincu qu’en entendant ceci, vous ne me croyez pas, ou que vous ne croyez pas que je le crois moi-même. C’est pourtant la vérité. J’ai conservé des souvenirs de cet autre monde. »

Extrait de : Dick, Philip K. « Si ce monde vous déplaît… »

Conclusion

J’aurais dû rester sur le bon souvenir de ma première Lecture conforté par la série dont je n’ai vu que les deux premières saison. Je trouve que la traduction de 2012 n’apporte pas grand chose et est peut-être responsable du désintérêt de ma seconde lecture jusqu’à ce que j’y reprenne goût en revenant, vers la fin, à celle de 1970.

A la réflexion je me suis dis que lors de la deuxième traduction, le responsable reprenait l’ancienne pour ne pas écrire la même chose et que, forcément, cela complique un peu les choses.

Documentaires vidéo

https://youtu.be/IHvtwP05icQ

https://youtu.be/YjuzFncv8Jc

Christian Loverde http://bit.ly/CLoverde

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Le maître du haut château Le maître du haut château L'édition de 1970 est celle que j'ai lu en premier puis j'ai découvert une nouvelle traduction datant de 2012.

#1970 #2012 #Le maître du haut château #Philip K. Dick #the Man on the high castle #traductions

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raynewolfegirl · 15 days

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Meta Jazz, the Arkham Intern Therapist Pt 2.2

Note: Part 2.2! The Bane Incident from Kon's POV! 😁

~*~*~

Two days later, Kon was back at Arkham undercover again. The Bats had caught Bane nearly 12 hours earlier after Red Hood showed up midway through the fight, lept off the overpass, and landed a blow directly to the top of Bane's head with a metal pipe on the way down. The behemoth of a man had crashed hard into the cement, immediately unconscious, and been taken directly to Arkham's medical facilities as soon as he arrived. He'd been checked over and cleared to head to his usual room in less than 15 minutes once he woke up the following afternoon.

Kon found out all of this afterwards.

He was headed back to the briefing room for his nect assignment after lunch when he spotted four senior guards, Collins, Ryans, Dorr, and Miles, escorting Bane from medical to his usual cell. He stepped into a doorway to let them pass by before continuing on his way. Kon had spent a productive lunch break chatting with Jasmine "please don't call me Fenton" while she waited for Dr. Rylie before he had to head back to the guards room so he wouldn't be late. He'd have to make sure to catch up with Dr. Rylie on the way out at the end of the day instead, Kon mused.

There was a shout behind him. Two bodies slamming hard into the walls on either side of the hall. A rush of fabric sliding across fabric. Rapid pounding footsteps.

Kon spun letting out a gasp as he saw Bane grab Jasmine's upper arm and yank her hard enough to make her stumble. The large man turned to face the guards behind him as he pulled her firmly back against his chest. Kon had the dart gun in his hands and leveled at Bane before he even realized he was moving. Dorr and Ryans had also already done the same. Miles was scrambling to his feet, drawing both his dart gun and baton. Collins slid to the ground, right shoulder visibly dislocated from hitting the wall at the wrong angle but he drew his tranquilizer dart gun as well.

"Weapons down or I'll snap her skinny little neck." Bane growled out, shaking Jasmine as emphasis. Her braid swung from the force of it.

Kon expected her to panic. He was panicking; a full grown, fully recognized superhero. Of course, he expected her to panic.

But Jasmine didn't.

Her expression smoothed out turning from barely-there surprise to blank calm in the span of a few seconds. Her breathing stayed deep and even. Her heart beat steady was steady. Was she in some kind of shock? But he had never heard of someone reacting like that to shock before.

"Back up! Let him through!" Dr. Rylie shouted to Kon and the other guards from where he had pressed himself against the wall on the opposite side from Bane. He must have been just a few steps ahead of Jasmine.

"She's my student! Let him through!" Dr. Rylie screamed again. His voice high pitched with fear for his intern.

Kon didn't know what to do. From the way Ryans and Dorr were exchanging looks, he wasn't sure they knew what the best approach was in this situation either. Of the five of them, Ryans was the most senior guard but he wasn't one of the six guards trained for hostage negotiations either. None of the scenarios they had trained for would work here. Jasmine was too similar in height to Bane for a good shot and a single tranquilizer wouldn't knock him out anyway. They couldn't possibly circle around behind him in this narrow hallway either.

Kon could practically taste the panic building in the air. The tension was rising. If he didn't think fast someone else was going to make the first move and Jasmine would get hurt and -

She sighed.

Long, heavy, and disappointed. It felt like every muscle in Kon's body locked up suddenly.

"Mr. Bane, remove your hands from my person, please. I will give you to one to comply." She said voice calm and heavy like - like she was disappointed in him?

Kon's stared at her bland expression in shock for a moment before his eyes darted back to Bane. The rogue looked momentarily stunned then started laughing.

"Five." Jasmine said, ignoring his laughter. Kon felt himself paling. His colleagues were shifting, white faced with fear as they traded glances again.

"Four." She continued. Bane snorted derisively at her.

"Did you really think that would work?" He asked. His arms tightened around her. There was no way Jasmine was getting out of this without bruises.

"Three." She said ignoring Bane's question. Holy shit. Had she lost her mind?

"What can you even do if I don't?" Bane mocked with a rabid gleam in his eye. He's going to kill her, Kon realized faintly, even if we let him go now he's going to snap her neck for this.

"Two."

"Jasmine..." Kon whispered pained and horrified by his realization. Loosening his grip on the dart gun without meaning too. She met his gaze across the hall, eyes resolved.

"One." She finished, brows furrowing slightly in concentration as her lips thinned, pressed together. Bane gave a derisive snort.

And then the massive man was airborne.

"Holy shit." Miles breathed out.

Kon stared at the crater in the floor. Collins and Dorr were absolutely silent, hearts racing in their chests. Ryans took a half step forward, heart stuttering - Kon really hoped the man wasn't about to have a heart attack because he could rush him to medical right now. Dr. Rylie was half collapsed against the wall he'd been pressing himself against a strangled sound of shock coming from his throat. Bane was embedded in the floor breath wheezing as Jasmine half knelt on top of his neck. Oh wow, Kon registered, Bane's arm is fucked.

"Now, do you know what you've done wrong?" Jasmine asked looking down at the giant.

"Yes, Ma'am." Bane choked out.

"Fucked with the wrong HBIC." Collins muttered under his breath faintly still stunned.

"Jasmine for president." Miles whispered back automatically.

"Boys," Dorr scolded as he half lowered his dart gun, shifting his weight at the same time.

"Won't be making her angry around that time of month." Ryans mumbled to himself softly enough that Kon was the only person who could have possibly heard him.

"What did you do wrong?" Jasmine pressed. Collins choked back an inappropriate hysterical giggle at the question. Bane appeared to panic when he realized he'd have to respond.

No wonder, Kon thought, the man literally grew up in Santa Prisca's prisons. Did he even know how to respond to -Kon choked on air - a maternal scolding?! What the ever loving fuck? He bluescreened. Stood there in the hallway, absolutely stunned, completely unaware of his surroundings as he struggled to process the fact that Jasmine was giving Bane a maternal scolding in the middle of an Arkham hallway right in front of him. Maybe I've finally gone nuts? Kon wondered.

Jasmine gestured vaguely towards the group of them without turning to look and Kon snapped back to the present.

"Kyle here is going to take you to see the nurse and then back to your room then. I'm sure you'll behave for him?" Oh shit, that's me she's talking about. Kon walked towards her still a bit numb.

"Yes, Ma'am. I'll behave." Bane answered her. Kon watched as Jasmine stood up carefully and backed away from Bane far enough for him to pull himself out of the crater in the floor. Once he was on his feet, Kon led Bane back towards medical realizing as he did that there had been four other guards behind him this whole time.

Two of them darted forward and scooped up Collins, probably to take him to the guards medical ward along the outer wall patrol route. The other two fell in with Kon, Dorr, Miles, and Ryans. As they walked away Kon could hear Jasmine talking to Dr. Rylie.

"I'm fine, really. My mother was an extremely skilled martial artist. I've been learning from her since I started to walk." She explained honestly, trying to sooth the frazzled doctor's nerves. "I didn't know he was heavy enough to break the floor though!" Jasmine laughed.

That - heart beat uneven, vocal cords tense - that second part was a lie.

#Meta Jazz Arkham Intern Therapist #Meta Jazz #Arkham Intern Therapist #Meta Jazz AIT #AIT #MJAIT #dc x dp #dcxdp #dp x dc #dpxdc #Jazz/Kon #Feel free to add on #Not sure if I'll continue this or not #We'll see what happens #If I do it will still be under the same tag though so if you follow it you'll still be fine.#You have no idea how hard it was coming up with all these names #Most of them are the result of auto-correct saying no lol #If there's another part it will probably be either Jazz or Tim POV #Jazz might confront Kon about his super strength because she is hardcore judging him rn #Tim because when he hears about the Bane Incident from Kon he can definitely tell his friend has a crush #Kon hasn't realized it yet #Jazz has though #If Tim's POV Danny will definitely turn up #I have so many ideas ya'll #But like #No time to write #save me #my original post

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raynewolfegirl · 15 days

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Meta Jazz, the Arkham Intern Therapist Pt 2.1

Note: The writing bug bit me while wading through the comments and replies so you guys get more! 😁 Special thanks to @the-scarecrow-of-aus & @starlightcat04 for helping spark this continuation!

Also, so you're not confused, this part is from Kon's POV and backtracks to before the Bane incident to explain how Kon started going undercover in Arkham. Pt 2.2 has the Bane incident from Kon's POV.

~*~*~

When Kon got the call from Tim asking if he'd be willing to do a favor for him, he hadn't expected it to be an undercover assignment in the infamous Arkham Asylum itself.

"You want me to do what?" He asked staring at Tim in disbelief once he reached the Nest to debrief.

"Go undercover as a new guard in Arkham." Tim repeated with a deadpan expression looking over his shoulder at Kon from his computer chair. Holy fuck, his eyebags were bad.

"Have you slept in the past week, Tim?" Kon asked, taking in his best friend's appearance.

Tim frowned at the question.

"I don't see how that's relevant but yes." He answered, heartbeat unchanging. Which didn't really mean anything since it was Tim but Kon decided he'd believe him.

For now.

Kon sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Okay, I'll do it." He said. "Can you tell me why we need someone undercover at least?"

Tim eyes widened, startled by the question like he was surprised Kon didn't know yet even though Tim hadn't told him yet. Okay, deep breaths, calm down, Tim clearly hasn't slept in at least two days. Kon coached himself as his temper flared up at the evidence that Tim wasn't taking care of himself again. All the Supers agreed: sometimes you just wish you could beat some sense into the Bats and make them take care of themselves like normal human beings.

"Ah. Right." Tim said, turning back to the computer and pulling up some files as he explained. "Two thing have occured within roughly fifteen days of each other that together are rather suspicious. First, Dr. Thomas Rylie, Jonathan Crane's undergraduate roommate and classmate throughout undergrad and grad school, was hired to work as one of the new in house psychiatrists at Arkham Asylum. They also got their doctorates from the same school during the same time frame and both focused on the impact fear has on the brain. Dr. Rylie's focus was on fear conditioning and Dr. Crane's focus was on fear responses." Well, that sounds suspicious.

"Second, Gotham University lost their minds and began an undergraduate and graduate internship program partnering with Arkham Asylum."

Kon went cold. They did what?

Pictures of the Asylum, University, and three people -presumably Scarecrow, Dr. Rylie, and a young woman- filled the computer screen now.

"The internship program has only one applicant so far and she'd already started working at the Arkham. Her name is Jasmine Fenton and her background is...sparse, to say the least." Tim turned in his chair to face Kon.

"I'm too recognizable in Gotham and among the rogues to successfully go undercover in Arkham so I've set you up with an apartment and ID as 'Kyle Jennings.' You're scheduled to start work at Arkham as a new guard tomorrow morning."

"Okay," Kon said with a nod. "What do you need confirmed? What are the primary objectives?" He prodded Tim again since his friend's sleep deprived brain seemed to think that was enough information for debriefing. It wasn't. Definitely not. A lot was implied but it wouldn't be the first time Tim had completely different intentions than what Kon had understood from his briefing. Sleep deprived Tim frequently assumed others could read his mind or something. Sleep deprived Tim was wrong.

"We need to determine if Dr. Rylie is here working for Scarecrow as part of some new scheme. We need to determine if Jasmine Fenton is complicit. We need to know if Gotham U is also in on it. And we need to find out what exactly Scarecrow is the planning." Tim stated automatically as he ticked each one off on his fingers.

"Got it. Guess I'll head over to my new apartment then and start prepping for tomorrow." Kon said, heading towards the exit. Tim hummed in agreement waving a hand in his direction as he left. That dumbass was probably already absorbed in the next case. Kon sighed, hopefully Tim would at least pass out sometime later tonight.

~*~*~

Kon's first day at Arkham wasn't anything special. He didn't see Jasmine, Dr. Rylie, or Scarecrow. He didn't see any rogues or doctors at all. It was just a really Gotham kind of orientation.

"This is where we keep a cache of stun grenades, long-range scope rifles, tranquilizer rounds, and rubber bullets." His new supervisor and guide through orientation, Alex Fhizer, said as he showed Kon how to access, inventory, lock, and re-conceal the cache. "Everytime you pass by a cache on patrol, you will check the inventory again and sign off on it with the date and time. If anything is different from the previous inventory entry, you will immediately radio the tower and the island will be put on lockdown." Greyish Hazel eyes peered out of a weathered face staring Kon down. "You will never neglect to inventory a cache while on patrol. You will never neglect to report an inventory discrepancy. The first time you do you will be fired immediately and you can count yourself damn lucky if that's all that happens to you."

Fhizer was intense, man.

"Yes, Sir." Kon answered. Fhizer's hard look lasted another long moment before the older man gave a firm nod and continued showing Kon the ropes.

~*~*~

The second day was no where near as chill as the first. Hell, his brain was already starting to warp, there hadn't been anything chill about that orientation.

Kon started his second day by boarding the Arkham transport bus with the rest of the staff and early morning visitors to the island. That was where he saw Jasmine Fenton in the flesh for the first time.

She has got to be part Amazonian, was his first thought upon seeing her. She was around 6ft tall with a thick mane of red hair tightly braided reaching all the way down to her waist. Jasmine was wearing teal stud earrings, a silver bangle type bracelet on her left wrist, a white blouse, black slacks, and black flats. She carried a small, clear purse that only held a small notepad, pen, house key, chapstick, and a thin teal wallet that presumably contained her IDs, debit cards, and a small amount of cash. Damn, she was tall.

Kon's concentration was broken by the quiet sound of metal crunching slightly beneath his fingers. He immediately loosened his grip on the hand rail, checking for damage with a wince. He breathed a soft sigh of relief when he saw the damage was almost entirely unnoticeable to the naked eye. He'd have to mind his strength more closely. Kon was too used to the farm and facilities that were all reinforced to handle casual use from people with super strength.

Tim's notes indicated Arkham wasn't reinforced for super strength anywhere. Not even along the outer walls. The facility had opted to use suppression collars on their meta inmates instead since they were cheaper and easier to repair and replace according to the official reports. However, Tim's notes had also mentioned that Arkham had reinforced the outer walls to account for super strength at one point. They'd poured nearly every dime the facility could spare into the project for months until the Joker himself had taken it personally. The madman had absolutely obliterated the reinforced outer walls until no part of them remained standing. Given Joker had destroyed the walls without having any meta powers at all and his history of viciously attacking -damn near mauling- anyone that tried to put him in a straight jacket, Kon didn't really blame Arkham for stopping while they were ahead.

Kon looked up as the bus jolted to a stop. The other passengers filing off around him. He watched as Jasmine Fenton was met by Dr. Rylie in front of the bus as he waited to disembark.

"Ms. Jasmine!" Dr. Rylie greeted her enthusiastically with a broad open grin and beaming eyes. He reached towards her with both arms, hands open and she reached back. Their right hands clasped as their left hands landed on the other's upper arms as the two greeted one another openly. Kon wasn't very familiar with intern-mentor relationships nor what would be considered normal or professional for them, but it looked like a rather affectionate greeting for them having been strangers two weeks ago. That was strange, wasn't it? Was Tim right to be worried about them?

"Ms. Jasmine is the first and only applicant for Dr. Rylie, Director Keener, and Dean Byle's hairbrained idea to hire more doctors for this place." One of the older guards that had been standing just behind him on the bus explained having apparently noticed Kon watching the pair.

"They just seemed rather affectionate for Gotham." Kon shrugged dismissively as he turned to look over his shoulder at his new colleague. The shorter man laughed.

"A bit, yeah." He agreed. "I think Dr. Rylie is just desperate for this program to work out." He continued as they finally managed to get off the bus. Dr. Rylie and Ms. Fenton were gone now. "Pretty much everyone's been treating her like a princess."

"That doesn't seem fair to everyone else." Kon commented, dropping back a bit to let the older man lead the way to the guards room for morning debriefing and to get their assignments. He'd already memorized the layouts but 'Kyle Jennings' shouldn't have yet.

"Who cares about fair as long as it works?" The guard answered. "If treating her like a princess scores more interns for the program in the long run, and if one intern every year ends up interested in sticking around, I'll be happy to cater to every single one of them." He confessed, stopping in the middle of the hall to turn and face Kon directly. Kon glimpsed the name Ryans as the silver name badge flashed the briefly reflecting the overhead lights. "You non-gothamites just don't get it. We're desperate for whatever help we can get."

"That's why I applied here." Kon lied. "Going to school across the bay, I heard a lot about what went down over here while I was in college. I want to help."

Ryans gave a short solemn nod then turned and led the rest of the way to the break room.

~*~*~

Day four undercover was when Kon officially met Jasmine Fenton.

Everything had been going well so far with his undercover assignment. He'd settled in to the role of Kyle Jennings, been getting along well with his new coworkers including Ryans and Fhizer, and hadn't yet managed to screw up inventorying the caches during the outer patrol loops. That being said, Kon was having other issues.

The worst part of being an unstable Kryptonian clone was that his strength tended to fluctuate. It normally wasn't much of an issue when he was surrounded by reinforced everything in his daily life but here at Arkham it was becoming a problem. Case in point, Kon thought to himself with an exhausted groan as his freshly made coffee mug shattered in his hand.

"Oh come on." He sighed snatching a handful of paper towels from the counter and bending to wipe up the coffee and ceramic shards on the floor. At least he was the only one in the room when it shattered. The door clicked softly behind him and Kon jumped twisting to look.

Jasmine Fenton stood behind him having just closed the door to the break room after entering.

"What happened here?" She asked, sounding bewildered with slightly wide eyes as she took in the mess on the floor. Thank God. She didn't see it.

"Guess I was a bit more tired than I thought." He said with a forced laugh in order to hide his nerves. "Slipped right through my fingers."

She nodded, accepting his words at face value.

"I've done that more than a few times close to finals." She admitted. "You guys have 10 hour shifts, right? You must be exhausted. When's your next day off?"

"The day after tomorrow." Kon said. "This is day 3 for me since orientation doesn't count."

"You get 2 days off followed by an on-call day, right?" She asked.

"Right," Kon agreed. "AKA 2 days of freedom and a day chained to the Bowery." He joked.

"Absolutely terrible, they may as well put an ankle monitor on you." She cracked back grinning. Kon snickered. The door opened again.

"I see you found another non-gothamite here." Dr. Rylie said striding into the break room with a wide grin.

"Sounds like that makes three of us." Kon agreed. Outside of Joker, he had never seen a gothamite grin that wide in his life.

"Dr. Thomas Rylie, a pleasure to meet you." Dr. Rylie introduced himself holding out his hand to shake. Kon shook his hand as gently as possible, mindful his strength was on the fritz.

"Kyle Jennings, nice to meet you. I just started as a guard earlier this week." He said then held his hand out to shake Jasmine's.

"Jasmine Fenton, I'm an intern therapist. This is my second week here." She greeted with a warm smile shaking Kon's hand. She didn't say anything about being glad to meet him, Kon noted. It wasn't exactly strange behavior but something made him take note of it anyway. Like by not saying it she was saying she hadn't decided whether meeting him was a good or bad thing yet. Dr. Rylie didn't seem to notice anything off with the interaction though as he went about making his own coffee. The three of them made idle small talk as they made their own coffees. Once his new cup was ready, Kon bid them both goodbye and went on his way. While they were his main objective, lingering too long this early into their aquantiantship would probably be strange.

He had several other small friendly interactions with both of them over the next few days. Taking the time for greetings, small talk, and sharing small bits of casual background info from Kyle Jennings's past to encourage them both to open up to him. He also broke a clipboard, two more coffee cups, several pens, and a doorknob during that time as his strength continued to fluctuate. The doorknob had been particularly embarrassing. He had gone to open the door for Jasmine when he saw her with her arms full of files and somehow managed to twist it in such a way that the screws holding it in place sheered off and the knob came off in his hand. Collins, his partner for building patrol that day, burst out laughing hysterically as Kon stared at the doorknob in horror.

"No worries, man." Collins said, clapping Kon on the shoulder still snickering. "Someone else probably broke it and put it back so they wouldn't get scolded or something."

"Yeah," Kon said with a nervous laugh. "That must be what happened."

Jasmine's eyes flicked between the two of them then she grinned.

"And here I thought you just really hated that door." She teased Kon. He felt his face heat up as Collins laughed at him again.

"It is an ugly door." Collins agreed enthusiastically smirking.

"Terribly ugly. Hideous even," Jasmine said with a smile.

"Possibly even traumatizing to behold," Collins continued to smirk.

"You've got me. I have a deep rooted traumatic fear of metal taupe doors." Kon deadpanned ears burning. Jasmine snickered as Kon got the door open for her and they went their separate ways.

~*~*~

"What have you found so far?" Tim asked. Kon did not have the words to express how much he didn't want to be at the Nest at 3am on his first day off from undercover work. If it was anyone other than Tim he wouldn't have even answered the phone.

"Literally nothing," Kon said dryly. "I am still the newest of newbies at Arkham. I practically spent the whole week being babysat by senior guardsmen." He sighed, reminding himself that it wasn't Tim's fault that he was a little insomniac goblin and that Kon really did love his friend and would be sad if he hurt Tim's feelings. Eventually. When he woke up again in the morning. "I did start befriending them both though. It's slow going since we're in different areas but nearly being the only non-gothamites there seems to be helping me make some headway at least."

There was one other non-gothamite on staff, a medical nurse named Sharon Earley. She was in her mid-thirties and the most sour and unpleasant person Kon had had the displeasure of meeting so far on Arkham's staff. Not that Kon could blame her for that. Not when she had several large ragged scars spanning from her chin and down both of her arms from when Zsazz had gotten hold of her alone after dark her second year at Arkham. It was a damn miracle she'd survived him. Kon didn't know how she managed it but he wouldn't try to find out either. Ryans had taken him aside right before he first met Nurse Earley and warned him not to stare or ask about any of it and then explained the bare basics of what happened to her after they'd left.

Tim probably had a file with every detail of that night as well as information about Sharon Earley's life both before and after that night somewhere on his computer. The thought made Kon nauseous.

"Good, good," Tim said absently as he updated the mission file on his computer. The keys clicked so rapidly that Kon again reconsidered whether or not his best friend had super speed. "Better to keep them from suspecting than to rush in anyway."

"Exactly."

Tim continued asking questions about every little detail he could think of concerning Dr. Rylie, Jasmine Fenton, and the rogues currently in Arkham.

"They don't let me near those guys yet. I'm too new." Kon said when Tim asked if Scarecrow looked to be plotting more than usual.

"They don't?" Tim sounded surprised, going so far as to stop typing so he could turn and stare at Kon. The clone was amused to note something about his statement had managed to wake Tim up enough to be visibly shocked instead blank-faced with exhaustion.

"Of course not," Kon answered trying to keep the amusement from his voice as much as possible. "As many times as your rogues have broken out they're leary of letting new hires near them in case they're goons in disguise."

Tim sank back into his chair looking like Kon had uprooted his whole world by proving the Earth really was flat via actual science.

"That's impossible." Tim said sounding faint. "Everytime there's a mass breakout, we always hear that some of the guards helped them escape. How?..." He trailed off, eyes darting rapidly like he was tracking lines of an invisible conspiracy board in the air in front of him. Kon shrugged, uncomfortable with this new information.

"Scuttlebutt is that the people helping them escape are visitors. The guards get blamed because the goons visit wearing clothes similar to the guard uniform from a distance. All blue polo shirts and black pants look similar at a distance." Kon explained. "It also doesn't help that the guards can't really do much to stop the escape attempts since they only have stun grenades, tranquilizer darts, batons, low voltage tazers, and rubber bullets to fight back with. So as long as enough people are involved in the escape attempt at least some of them will make it out even if the guards manage to to tranquilize several of them."

Tim still looked like Kon was blowing his mind. It was such a rare experience that Kon had to continue.

"Plus the tranquilizer darts and the rubber bullets have to be fired from different hardware." Kon told him. "Which sucks because you have to carry twice the amount of weight while chasing after the escapees which slows you down and it takes longer to swap between them."

There was something similar to mystified horror spreading across his friend's face now.

"Speaking if swapping between them, they have different ranges too." Kon continued gleefully. Half because it was fun wrecking Tim's worldview and half to actually impart the information. "Batons are short-range. Tranquilializer darts and stun grenades are mid-range. Rubber bullet riffles are long-range."

"If that's all it is, WE can fund then better gear to control the inmates." Tim interrupted turning back to the computer and swiftly typing out a list of things to send Arkham. Kon shook his head.

"That won't work." He disagreed gently. "They aren't failing because of the gear itself."

Tim turned back around to face him, confused. This was not going to be a fun conversation, Kon swallowed hard and forced himself to continue.

"The problem is that if you fire the rubber bullet riffles from mid or short range you could seriously injury or even kill the patient. If they get past mid-range, you'll miss them completely using tranquilizer darts or stun grenades. If you try to use either of those at short-range it'll be bad for you whether it's because they'll get hold of you before the tranquilizer knocks them out or because you'll stun yourself too."

Comprehension and trepidation began to dawn on Tim's face. He deflated in his chair, sinking lower and lower as he stared off into nowhere.

"You also can't hit them with more than one tranquilizer dart in a four hour window because you could accidently kill them that way. That also means even though you have a baton, you typically can't do enough damage to them to keept them from escaping because that might potentially kill them." Kon said completely solemn now as he relayed the information. "Because regardless of the reputation Arkham has or what the patients have done, it is still a hospital and they are still patients."

Tim was staring directly at Kon now. Mouth open, face slack, eyes wide with a kind of numbed shock. Kon held his gaze.

"Yeah," Kon said after a moment. "Yeah, that's how I reacted too." He looked down, picking at his nails for a moment before forcing himself to stop and meet Tim's gaze again. "Phizer, my new 'boss', made sure to drill that into my head during orientation. 'Arkham's guards exist first and foremost to protect the patients. Arkham isn't supposed to be a prison. It's a medical facility. The patients are confined to the premises because their affliction has made them dangerous and they have to stay so that we can keep them and others safe from further harm. We are here to keep the patients and staff from hurting each other, themselves, or being hurt by people outside of Arkham's walls.' Not gonna lie, man." Kon said quirking a bitter grin as his did. "Hearing that kind of fucked me up a bit."

Tim sucked in a huge heaving breath then slowly let it out before he responded.

"I can't say I ever thought about it like that." He admitted in a soft strained voice. "Can't say I ever wanted to either." There was a bitter tinge to his words.

"Yeah, neither did I." Kon answered, shoulders slumping a bit. "Was there anything else you wanted to ask me? I kind of want to head back and sleep a bit."

Tim shook his head slowly.

"No, I think we're good at the moment." He said looking twice as exhausted and drained now as he did when Kon first got there. Kon nodded.

"Good night then. I'll see you later, man." He said, pushing off the wall he'd been leaning against and heading for the door.

"Be safe, Kon." Tim answered softly turning back to his computer.

#Meta Jazz Arkham Intern Therapist #Meta Jazz #Arkham Intern Therapist #MJAIT #AIT #Meta Jazz AIT #dc x dp #dcxdp #dp x dc #dpxdc #Jazz/Kon #Eventually that's the goal anyway #Side note I do not headcanon Arkham this way #But Jazz went through her 'I can fix them' stage during high school #And in my experience most people don't try to 'fix others' again after they fail the first several times #Jack & Maddie definitely weren't fixed in this story #So I couldn't see her willingly interning at Arkham if it was actually like how it is in DCU #Since the internship program is optional #Which begged the question why everyone thinks Arkham is Like That #So Kon gave you the answer #Also sorry if he's really OOC #I have never written his POV before and finding a voice for him was hard #Tim's shit got rocked #tw: cursing #my Kon curses because he's through his rebellious stage already but linguistic habits stuck around #Oh yeah #and his powers are fluctuating because the density of the smog and cloud layer over Gotham is constantly changing #my original post

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