>>6039574>Pencils & Inks: Andrea Sorrentino. Colors: Jordie Bellaire >Alt-Text: Comicbook art of Dr Thompkins, a middle-aged black woman.>Dialogue Sample: SouthFloProd. The halls of Arkham are quiet, calming.
It's the one place where your brain doesn't fill the silence with endless plans in case something goes wrong.
Thompkins: The psychic inhibitors are working well, I’m surprised you could donate them. I thought only the feds had that technology.
Bruce: I’m making…inroads with a few people in high places.
Thompkins: I’m sure you are.
Bruce: How’s Michael doing?
Thompkins: You know I can’t break patient confidentiality.
Bruce: He’s dangerous.
Thompkins: So are you. But did I call the cops when a teenage orphan told me he was gonna wage war on the world that took his parents? No. I listened. I worked with you. And together we met your needs in a way that didn't harm the people around you. I’m compromising enough by having two involuntary commitments. Can you trust me to handle this? You know if anyone is in danger I’ll take the proper steps.
Bruce: *sigh*. I believe in you, Doctor. It’s something I’m trying out these days.
Croc: Yo what’s happenin, Doc? Ready to kick trauma's ass?
Thompkins: You know it. I’ll meet you in room 357.
The reptilian man looks at you.
Croc: Hey Bruce. I heard you worked with the Bat to help out the city. Guess you you ain't on my shit list. Yet.
He gives a toothy grin. Then bursts out in laughter and offers his hand. You shake it vigorously.
Bruce: I hope the session goes well.
Thompkins: As do I.
She smiles, but once Cros walks away her muscles tense.
Thompkins: Bruce, he’s in room 22.
