summer dreams ripped at the seams, but oh, those summer nights

[exceptfebruary]

WHO: Julian Day & OPEN
WHERE: NOHoPE
WHEN: the month of July?
WARNINGS: It's a psychiatric hospital.
SUMMARY: Calendar Man's in NOHoPE, accepting visitors. Also open to NOHoPE staff and patients?
FORMAT: Quick, prose, art, I'll match whatever



Julian settled into the rhythm of the hospital pretty easily, and other than a small incident on the fourth, he was quiet and well-behaved. His containment irked him as it always did, and just as always he bore it. He'd spent a good chunk of his life in Arkham, it was just part of the never-ending cycle. So he spent it doing what he always did - planning possible crimes for when he got out.

Of course, he was still allowed guests, when the visitor center's hours were open. Not that he particularly expected any, but you never knew. He had some last time.

Comments

[darkholiday]

This is probably a terrible idea, but he hasn't given himself much time to think about it.

He hasn't had too much sleep, either, come to think of it. He's been busy, helping to clean up the mess that 'game' had caused, directing people here and there to where they could be spared or were most needed.

He's still a little groggy, honestly, but this is something that needs to be done.

(And is also probably the worst idea he's ever had right now.)

He makes almost no noise as he approaches, but soon enough, he comes to stand in front of Calendar Man's room. It's almost nostalgic, really, except that only one of them is imprisoned this time.

"I believe we need to talk." His voice is short, clipped. A little terse, even. Recent events have worn on him.

[exceptfebruary]

He walks up to the glass, leaning against the thick glass, palms pressed flat. It's an instinctual move, getting as close to the outside as possible.

Alberto Falcone.

It had been years but he would never forget that face. Julian remembers everything. He remembers staring at that face through glass -- either in his cell or through a mirror.

Holiday.

The Calendar Man is being forgotten. And that is unacceptable.

When he speaks he doesn't speak in the soft, quiet tone of his own voice, but the mimicked deep whispered voice of the elder Falcone.

Just as a reminder.

"We never talk."

[darkholiday]

He doesn't flinch. He just looks at him, through the glass. It's all very familiar.

Of course he'd remember. He remembers the voice, too, the one that had haunted him for a year.

But he doesn't react to it. He simply adjusts his glasses before speaking.

"On this particular matter, I think it would be best."

[exceptfebruary]

He loses the voice, going back to his own. The point was made.

"What particular matter, exactly?"

Julian's eyes never leave Alberto's face. It's surreal. The whole City's surreal at the best of times, but this was different. Personal. Here he is - a man whose death date had long since passed. The porter had drudged up a figure from his past, and Calendar's reminded of how very fragile his current position is.

[darkholiday]

"This feud you seem to insist on." There's a hint of disdain in his tone. "I have no interests in continuing it, though I'm sure you think otherwise."

He'll make something of himself here. That is something he wants to do. But it will be his own choice. No assumed name to gain an inattentive father's attention, no following in the footsteps of others because it was family, the business that everyone had gone into.

"In any case, it would certainly be more beneficial to at least come to some agreement about things. I have no intention of usurping your territory."

[exceptfebruary]

Liar. "It is easy for you to make promises on the outside, enjoying the summer air."

He has to be a liar, he has to. It's better than being ignored, certainly. Finally some acknowledgement of Julian's existence -- and yet it's so dismissive. He should remember. He should care. He had to care. Everything Calendar Man did -- it had to have made some sort of impact.

It is if he understands what Alberto is saying but he can't acknowledge it properly. All he sees when he looks at the man is the one who called himself Holiday. Doesn't he understand what he had done to Julian?

"But do tell your proposed solution."

[darkholiday]

"It was most likely that this current imprisonment was your fault."

He doesn't understand, no. To him, Holiday was simply the name of a killer. He'd murdered a few people - for what? attention, it seems rather foolish in hindsight, honestly - and yet, taking up that name had him end up in an odd situation that had changed his outlook on things.

It hadn't been a large step. He was the outcast of the family already, after all. But it had changed his perspective, somewhat.

"Don't waste your time attempting to provoke reactions out of me regarding this rivalry you seem to think we have. I do not intend to pursue it, and that holds true regardless of whether you believe me or not."

[exceptfebruary]

"Waste my time. I never waste my time."

Every day counts. Every day he spent obsessing over the Holiday Killings, every day spent in the walls of the Falcone house, every day since Alberto's death. It mattered, even if he was stuck in Arkham. Or NOHoPE.

He has to believe it matters.

"And how do you plan to spend your days in the City?"

[darkholiday]

"Ah, of course. I forgot about that. Every day is accounted for, every day is important. To you, at least."

He'd never quite seen the point of such meticulous timekeeping. But everybody had their quirks. And in Gotham, 'quirks' were taken to such an extent that it dominated people's personalities, leading them to tussle with a man dressed like a bat and assume theme names and costumes.

It was rather odd, all things considered. He had probably been the only Falcone to think that it was merely odd, rather than freakish.

"Working at City Hall, actually, since I have a job there. From there, I'll plan according to what events occur." He wants to make something of himself - but he'll do it in avenues other than his father's line of work.

[exceptfebruary]

"You'll plan what events occur."

He gently stresses it. It's not a return to murder, of course, but it is a return to things that Julian classifies as his territory.

And his voice drops a few degrees, and he leans more forward, until his breath is fogging the glass.

"I do hope you enjoy your time at City Hall while I am in NOHoPE."

The implication that Alberto's work would end the minute Julian was free? Purposeful.

[darkholiday]

"I'll take things as they happen."

He simply stares back, impassive and unfazed. Unimpressed.

"I hope you enjoy your time in NOHope, then." He doesn't remark on that. It would be rising to the bait. "As much as you can do."

[exceptfebruary]

Julian stiffens, and his hands clench a little, fingernails scraping the glass.

Why was he so calm? So unaffected? If Julian were more self-aware, he'd see the irony in that thought, but at the moment Alberto's reactions were infuriating.

"I will be sure to enjoy it. And pay a visit the day I leave."

[heartlessglitch]

It's a rare occasion when the warden of the hospital makes a personal appearance. Everything in the asylum is automated-- cameras, alarms, all overseen by the blue robot drones that silently patrol the halls, day and night, transmitting information back Danger's main body for processing. But this evening, Danger is making the rounds herself. She visits each individual room, charting vital signs and physiological indicators, making observations about the state of the patient and their environment. Routine.

The locks are all hardwired to recognize her. She only knocks to notify the patient inside because she finds that humans rarely respond well when startled-- especially the unstable ones. The door clicks open. Danger illuminates the room with the soft blue light from her body when she enters.

"Hello, Julian Day. I am Danger, the warden." The door shuts solidly behind her. "I am here to analyze you. It is advisable for you to cooperate with me for your maximum comfort during this procedure."

[exceptfebruary]

Julian's standing near the corner, where he'd already started to past handwritten notes on the walls.

Danger wasn't in charge when Julian was in NOHoPE previously, and since his arrival he had coolly noted the changes with more than a little suspicion.

And now the new Warden herself had come to visit. Interesting. Julian turns and plays with his lip as he looks her over. Robot. Not quite within his expertise, but this was the City.

"Warden."

His voice is calm, but his body language is contained and guarded. "And how do you plan to analyze me?"

[heartlessglitch]

Danger approaches, pausing only to draw out a chair for her subject. She gestures towards it, as though offering it to him out of politeness, but there's a sharp efficiency to her movement that says she responds to defiance poorly.

"I will personally run biological diagnostics. We will talk. I will record my observations and conclusions in your file."

Her response is clinical, detached in a way. It's work, that's all.

"If I feel you require additional treatment, that will be arranged."

OOPS I missed this when I was getting to my hiatus tags so not only is it late it's SUPER late, sorr

[exceptfebruary]

He doesn't take it immediately, staring at her. Then Julian sits, slowly, never letting his eyes leave his visitor.

"I am certain you may be quite capable at -- biological diagnostics."

A pause. He's suspicious, and he's already put up walls. He sits stiffly and stares, his face blank. "You are not a psychologist, are you?"