- The Reset -
ad2, 'Ravee: *happy sigh* You are fantastic, cousin!
5cc, *Jonathan Crane 
: Terror. The stuff of nightmares. Fear. The cold sweats. Every living human on the planet knew what fear as even if they did not completely comprehend what the true depth and purpose of it was. Fear was a defensive mechanism that helped the human body move faster and be stronger then it could possibly be. Adrenaline, the release of endorphins.. it could become an addiction for some people, the rush and the power accompanying the sensation of fear. In life a little fear was a good thing, it kept you on your toes, gave you a high and certainly added exciting to what might have been an otherwise uninteresting existence. That kind of fear did not interesting Jonathan Crane..
What happened when the fear overwhelmed the body, suppressed the mind and drove the subject into whole sale insanity? What happened when someone became so overwhelmed with fear that they lacked any and all capacity for thought? What triggered the fears, what did some people see as being so horrific they could do nothing but fall to the ground in utter terror? Something so strong they might turn on each other to get away from the horror they were faced with? Was it a creature? A situation? A person? The study of fear was so captivating because so many people did not share the same experience or the same vision of fear. What one might fear another might see as merely a distraction or even an amusement. How was fear wired into the mind? What was it that caused each person to trigger such terror?
Staring at the mask he had designed for himself the tired expression of Jonathan Crane offered a wiry smile. How long had it been since he had been asleep? Two weeks? Drugs and caffeine kept him going fueled by the one thing that even the Scarecrow feared.. his own dreams. His mind had long since degraded thanks to long term exposure to his own poisons and gasses rendering his sleeping world completely devoid of any respite. There was so safe slumber to escape too only the haunting horror of the waking world for dear Crane. When he did get sleep he ensured he was pumped of enough drugs that he would not dream but rather would enter a sort of empty darkness of which he had no memories of what occurred.
High above him in the belfry of the dark and abandoned church he was inhabiting sat his eager patience in large crows cages. He had kept them for days now, feeding them water and bread to keep them at least slightly alive though he didn’t want them being to physically healthy, after all if they fought back he may not be able to contain them, particularly if they were reacting poorly to the fear toxin. Over the past few days he had been cooking his precious poison, perfecting it in all of its horrific beauty. And now it was ready and the long wait of his “patients” to face their one true fear and be freed into the manic insanity of terror was at hand.
Slipping his mask over his face, an unnecessary precaution due to the lack of air-based toxins, Crane picked up a small velvet case that sat on the wooden alter before him. Reverently he opened the box to reveal several syringes of clear, murky red liquid.
”An Apple a day keeps the Doctor Away..”” Crane’s voice snaked out from the mask vaguely muffled and gritty from the boom mic. A soft hiss escaped the base of the mask as it sealed around Crane’s head offering protection against any airborne agents. His dirty, frail fingers moved over a small control box on the table with several large toggles and a large red button it. Toggling the button down, he pressed his hand on the red button as the gears high above ground to life, screeching and complaining with their deep, steel teeth. ”Apple in the morning, Doctor’s warning..”
One of the cages high above jerked and swung as the chains slowly lowered it down toward the waiting Scarecrow. Turning his eyes back down toward the syringe he was holding, Crane smiled from behind his mask. He was excited.. so excited to see the results of his hard earned labors. A new adventure into fear itself and this soul that was being lowered to him would be the first to taste of it’s glory. The first to sip at the cup of his masterful work..
”..Let me go man! Let me go! Oh god.. what the hell is this!?” The larger man cried as his cage was lowered down toward Crane. His eyes spied the man waiting for him, a frail, twisted figure wearing some kind of bag hooded mask holding a needle of some sort. The caged man was weak, however, and struggled against the steel cage he was held in fruitlessly, his body lacking the power to stage any kind of fear defense.
”Roast apple at night, starves the Doctor outright..”Crane hissed from beneath his mask as the cage got closer. His fingers lifted slowly, beckoning the man toward him as Crane could feel his hands begin to shake with anticipation. The poem in his head rattling off as his psychotic temperament allowed him to remain fully focused on his victim. ”Eat an Apple before bed.. knock the Doctor on the Head..”
The crows cage hit the ground with a loud thudding sound though the man was still fine within, if somewhat terrified and trying his best to keep away from the obviously insane and frail looking man staring at him with that terrible mask. He didn’t speak, his eyes locked on Crane as his face drained of color. Crane did not move but rather stood there staring at the man, a needle carefully held in one hand while the other was lifted in a beckoning motion.
”Three each day, seven days a week.. Ruddy Apple, Ruddy cheek.”Crane finished the poem as he stepped forward in a jerky motion, the needle getting precariously close to the man in the cage. ”..don’t be afraid.. I’m a Doctor..”
From outside the abandoned church in the long disregarded part of Gotham’s dead sprawl the screams of people filled the night. Screams that came from the deepest parts of their soul, screams that conveyed the horror they felt, the soul crushing terror they were exposed to. The screams that Crane wanted so badly, the fear he wanted to study with his obsessive desires. The Science of Fear.. a Science Gotham would learn soon enough..
ad2, 'Ravee: *contented sigh and applause* I like it indeed, cousin!
5cc, *Jonathan Crane : Over the last few weeks Crane had taken to moving his operation out of the Industrial Park, where he would no doubts be a target for those criminals whose warehouse office he had stolen from. Instead he had moved most of his supplies and equipment to a small abandoned chapel near the outskirts of Gotham where the slums had literally become so befouled they had been abandoned. Like a patch of dead skin that the city had yet to shed, this area was perfect for Crane as it offered him protection and privacy to work his experiments. Likewise, the general mythology and superstitions surrounding such abandoned neighborhoods made for excellent fodder when experimenting with fodder. After all there were few sights more disquieting for a civilized man then seeing an empty building, a perfectly good piece of society abandoned. The mind started developing reasons for such abandonments, from gruesome murders to rumors of darker, more sinister forces at work. The average man was an easy mark when it came to fear..
Another benefit was that the police so infrequently patrolled these areas, after all where there are no people there is no crime, correct? Sure there was the random gang related war over the turf or a raging flash party taking advantage of the abandoned structures however beyond that, there was no reason for the authority to turn their gaze here. Therefore when someone went missing in this part of town, there was little effort on the part of the police to find them unless they were tied to a wealthy family or someone in a position of important. Even then, however, it was rare to actually find the person given the size and scale of the districts and the limited personnel the GCP had to throw at the case. It was a paradise for Crane and a nightmare for others.. just the way he liked it.
Seated in the makeshift pharmacological lab that Crane had constructed in the old Rectory, the “Scarecrow” was working on yet a new brand of fear inducing chemical compounds. This one was far more potent than his previous creations however they required direct injections for full effect while his others could be inhaled or drank. Still, the effect on the rats he had were profound with violent reactions resulting in one mouse killing the others out of a fear induced survival instinct when given no option of escape. With a few more tweeks the formula would be ready to test on a human subject..
Hanging in cages high above the chapel floor were victims waiting for processing by the Scarecrow. People who had been unlucky enough to wander into this part of town or forgotten there by their friend after a party or a drunken outing. Their screams for help went unanswered so far removed from ears that could hear them and when they got to uppity, healthy doses of traqualizers were utilized to keep them.. docile. At least until Crane was ready to utilize them for his test. They had grown to hate and fear the thin, frail man who came and went refusing to call the by their names, instead designating them with cold, unfeeling numbers. They were little more then test subjects to the deranged Doctor Crane, little more than subjects to be further tampered with until his ultimate goal of unlocking the secrets of Fear were discovered.
The chapel floor had been cleaned off and large, stainless steel vats hummed and bubbled with unseen chemicals, the organic components that Crane needed for his precious fear toxins. Procuring them was difficult however gathering the raw supplies and fermenting them within his own facility both cut down on his need to make large scale orders as well as draw attention. With a little extra cash to grease the palms of the local UPS, Crane was able to get blind drop deliveries to ensure no one was tracking his packages as well. It was a careful game, Crane understood, of building a small web within another spider’s larger web with the hope that the two would never cross paths. And with Batman apparently gone, Crane had little concern of being brutally beaten by a man dressed in a cape who refused to give into his own fears.
Carefully heating the blue and green chemicals at his lab desk, Crane controlled the heat and the settings that his precious toxins would vaporize at. It was all a careful plan, distilling the most potent of psychotropics while keeping the purity of the drug to ensure the strongest reactions aimed at fear. The art of chemically forcing the brain to inflict the patient’s greatest fear upon them was a hard task and it took a genius like him to figure it out. Alas the world was less appreciative of his great discoveries then he was. In time people would come to realize that Fear, the most primitive and primal of emotions, was a wonderful thing and he would be hailed as a hero for discovering its greatest depths and limitations. Well, that’s what Crane believed in his deranged mind at least.
As chemicals boiled, steamed and hissed, Crane took notes and worked out equations. He was patient and his patients would be patient as well, after all they had no choice. In a few days he would have his new compound, in a few days they would face the greatest fears of their life and Crane would be on hand. He would be able to immortalize their lives through his work and published works. They would be the first of the world to experience true fear, the first to understand how truly deep the power of fear went. And he would lead them there like the piper with his rats.
He was excited. So very excited. He even ignored the rumors that Two-Face, a deranged former public servant, and recently entered the area and was enforcing his willing along the borders of the abandoned areas of town. He didn’t have time for gangsters and murderers. They spread fear, sure, but they could never navigate it, never explore it as he had.. He was no criminal..
He was an adventurer… and Explorer..
And his next trip would take him to the farthest reaches of the human mind.. take him beyond the sanity..
He would go to the blank places of Fear..
Where there be Monsters..
ad2, 'Ravee: So do I! I will try not to fangirl all over him but...I'm going to and it's going to be amazing
f29, *Sunbeam: OMG. I will want to see that!!!
ad2, 'Ravee: Why thank you thank you! I am so happy I got together with that photographer, he is just amazing. And I think he's working on setting up a shoot for me with Harley's Joker which would be just...delightful
f29, *Sunbeam: Yes :D
ad2, 'Ravee: Mine?
ad2, 'Ravee: *flails hands at the flailing, resulting in a wonderful game of slappy hands*
f29, *Sunbeam: I rather like this profile picture better.
0fe, *Anastasia Pankova: ((*eeks, getting pawed, flailing hands back at*))
ad2, 'Ravee: *aids in the dusting*
0fe, *Anastasia Pankova: ((*dusts self off*))
ad2, 'Ravee: *sniffs around for a Scarecrow cameo*
2b6, *Two-Face : In all of creation there never was a city that represented human nature so well as Gotham City; from the shining structures of uptown to the scarred streets they neighbored, both decadent and decayed with little in between. And the people...oh, how they expanded the colors of the rainbow: here a man who's blood was so blue he had never tied his own tie, there a woman who's sins were so passionate the maids could hardly get out her crimson stains, and least we forget the man of sickly green envy who had caused the terrible inconvenience. Of course not all was wanton and waste. On the other side of the coin there were acts of kindness as pure as snow, though if you dug beneath the layers there was often the muck of one guilty conscience or another. Yes indeed, Gotham City was a brilliant reflection of human nature...almost as perfect as theirs.
They stood with their back to the room at the edge of the unfinished wall, dressed in a fine black and white pinstriped suit with a white collared shirt that was unfortunately only white on the right half as the left half of the collar and onto the shoulder had turned more of an oxidized brown. The cold evening wind from the high rise tussled Harvey's honey hair, their eyes moving up and down the lite city's figure with equal parts disgust and delight, as the smooth and scared faces of the silver dollar rolled over Two-Face's blackened knuckles, back and a forth with the steadiness of a metronome. The waxing sliver of moon spent equal parts hiding behind clouds and looking out over the city, though it was starting to favor the clouds.
It was a long climb up the twenty-two flights of stairs of the still under construction Tower of Whatever funded by the charitable Mr. and Ms. So-N-So but it was an even longer drag up the stairs as poor Clark "the Mouth" was coming to discover. They could hear the Mouth kicking and struggling from several floors below, both of them grateful that the thugs they had sent to collect the annoying package had gagged him properly. Even though they were confident that no one in the immediate area would have responded to screams of distress, one does not get a nickname like "the Mouth" by being discreet.
Dragging the Mouth across the temporary boarding, at last the band of merry murderers found their way onto the floor with Harvey/Two-Face; they tossed the sad sack of criminal down like so many potatoes a few yards from their bosses' back, the Mouth struggling to sit up on his knees as best he could with hands tied behind his back and a frightened bladder that he kept trying to pep talk into not releasing all over himself. He mumbled against his gag as the two guys who had carried him took a few steps back to join the two other suited figures posting guard around various points of the floor. Again, not that there was any real reason to suspect unexpected visitors but it was better not to press their luck. After a few moments of being mumbled at, at last they turned to face their annoying package.
No matter how many times someone saw them, the initial reaction to their appearance was always the same, the Mouth's eyes widening as he sucked in deep breath, the sound made all the more obvious thanks to the saliva soaked gag. Harvey's right eye blinked slowly as he looked at the pathetic man, his mouth forming a hard line of disapproval at the sheer cowardice before him as Two-Face's fully exposed eyeball twitched up and down slightly in the socket of the raw tissue that was his left side, his lipless skeleton grin giving no more insight into his thoughts then the rest of his "expression". They shook their head slowly, clicking their tongue in a Tsk tsk tsk, the Mouth actually able to see their tongue moving in their mouth when Two-Face's side was more prominent. When at last they spoke, it was Two-Face who had something to say.
"Clark." he started with a tone of mock disappointment that sounded every bit as coarse and damaged as the rest of him. "I am very disappointed in you, Clark. When I hired you to spread the word that there was a new face in town, I did not think I needed to explain exactly what that meant." He slowly approached the kneeling figure, the silver coin continuing its left to right, right to left pulse. "When a man says 'spread the word', Clark, he should not have to give a list of who exactly that word should be spread to. He should not, for example, hear from certain inside sources that a certain Mouth has been spreading certain words to certain ears that have no business hearing certain words." Two-Face continued on, his voice becoming slightly more strained as he came to stand right over the Mouth, Harvey's brow furrowing deeply. "Do you get my meaning, Clark?" Suddenly Harvey's hand shot out like a snake, seizing the front of the Mouth's collar and pulling the man to his feet with so little effort Two-Face's coin didn't skip a single beat in its rolling. "DO YOU?!" Immediately the Mouth turned his head away from the faces, unable to meet either one of their gaze.
"LOOK AT ME!" they growled together. Unable to verbalize his profound apology and understanding, the Mouth's mumbling resumed, his head bobbing up and down as he looked at the twisted faces before him. Harvey released the Mouth just as the Mouth's bladder released itself, the man collapsing into a puddle of tangled legs and fluid. They moved back toward the edge of the level, more because they were tired of looking at such a tired sight rather then to escape the smell that was coming off it. "We tried to give you a fair shot, Clark. Every man deserves a fair shot." He spun around quickly on his heel, his head jerking to the left side before straightening as he rolled the coin to perch atop the flat of his thumb. "Tell you what. Since we're in a generous mood, how about we flip for it? Silver side up, we give you another shot...and other side? Well...." a rough sound that may have been a chuckle escaped their throat. "How's that sound?" He took two steps toward the kneeling man, Harvey's eye staring almost as wide as Two-Face's. "Sound fair?"
The Mouth nodded his head so vigorously, Harvey/Two-Face couldn't help but unconsciously mock the motion slightly. Then up went the coin. With a soft ping and a gentle humm, the disc spun round and round, all eyes turning to watch the result. Even the thugs on guard had turned their attention away from their post to see the results. For what seemed like forever to the Mouth, the coin hung in the air until at last it collapse down into Harvey's open palm, his fingers snapping shut before anyone could see the result and he slapped his palm across the top of Two-Face's burnt hand. As he removed his hand from Two-Face's, the silver face shown up at them. The Mouth exhaled so deeply it was almost obscene.
"Looks like you get another shot, Clark." Harvey said with a hint of congratulations. The Mouth's eyes smiled up at them for the two seconds it took Harvey to draw the revolver from Two-Face's holster. There was a flash of recognition but the bang of the gun wiped away all expression as the bullet found its mark in the Mouth's eye. The body fell with a thud but they had already stepped away from the body, tucking the gun back into its holster as they headed towards the stairs. "Make sure he gets a nice cement coffin, boys." The thugs immediately moved to the body with mutterings of "yes, Mr. Two-Face" and began the bloody work of cleaning up the Mouth. As Two-Face descended the steps, he resumed rolling the coin back and forth over his knuckles, reflecting to himself a hint of surprise that the Mouth hadn't bled yellow.
2b6, *Two-Face : ((Incoming cameo *finally*))
f29, *Sunbeam: *flounces off*
f29, *Sunbeam: *pokes*
ad2, 'Ravee: Lonely lunch time lurk
ad2, 'Ravee: *lunch time lurk*\
ce3, ºAdministrator: Hush
303, *Flu: Hush or Red Hood?
ad2, 'Ravee: Free it is
DICE: Ravee rolls 3 = 3 on a 1d6.
ad2, 'Ravee: *can't decide where to put Harvey*
f29, *Sunbeam: Apped!
ad2, 'Ravee: It sounds like something Gotham would have to me
ad2, 'Ravee: I agree, Jeremiah turned me on to Pho about two years ago and it is one of my favorites now
f29, *Sunbeam: Gotham City Ballet Company, how's that?
f29, *Sunbeam: Pho is good soup, I'd make that if I didn't have to walk in the dark to my garden for the herbs and stuff.
ad2, 'Ravee: Though I don't really consider Ramen soup. I never drink the broth, I just eat the noodles
ad2, 'Ravee: have=had
ad2, 'Ravee: I have some for lunch! Oriental
f29, *Sunbeam: Ramen?
ad2, 'Ravee: I love soup
f29, *Sunbeam: *has soupy breath?*
ad2, 'Ravee: *sniff-sniff-sniffs all over Sunbeam's screaming face*
f29, *Sunbeam: *flattened, commence hysterical screaming*
ad2, 'Ravee: *buttwiggle and pounce!*
f29, *Sunbeam: *was too busy making soup and making an application to notice Ravee sneak sneak sneak*
ad2, 'Ravee: *new pic*
ad2, 'Ravee: *sneak-sneak-sneaks up on Sunbeam*
f29, *Sunbeam: There. This color.
f29, *Sunbeam: *works on a character*
ad2, 'Ravee: *lunch time lurk*
ce3, ºAdministrator: Hmm
2b6, *Two-Face : ((Profile test))
e2b, *Harvey Dent : ((Profile test))
ad2, 'Ravee: =D
5cc, *Jonathan Crane : *Of course it is.*
ad2, 'Ravee: I'm going to blame Jeremiah *shifty eyes.* Yes, that's it. All his fault
5cc, *Jonathan Crane : *Turrible.*
ad2, 'Ravee: *still hasn't gotten to see TDKR*
5cc, *Jonathan Crane : *One does ones best*
ad2, 'Ravee: *applauds* Fantastic indeed, cousin. "The man’s head was evacuated of its contents" made me almost choke on my soda too
5cc, *Jonathan Crane : *Cameo got cut off, to big I guess. Anyone.. /Cameo*
5cc, *Jonathan Crane : The man’s head was evacuated of its contents as the man sent a 9.mm bullet through his brain cavity. His body slumped to the side as blood, bone and brain matter was splattered across the cement ground. Crane took another step forward, slowly stepping around the blood as to avoid disturbing the bodies. Reaching down he retrieved a key to the warehouse from the suicide’s pocket, dangling it in front of himself.
”You could have at least told me what you saw.. with that kind of attitude you’ll never get ahead.. “ Scarecrow said in a dry manner before he turned around, unlocking the doors before he briskly stepped in. It was a start.. but Gotham was a large city and it would take more time. More resources. More Fear Toxin to realize his dreams..
A City of Fear..
ad2, 'Ravee: *encourages this potential creation!* I have got to actually play with you.
5cc, *Jonathan Crane : Fear. It was a powerful impulse, one that every man, woman and child in the world felt at some point or another. It was the fear, that primitive impulse that allowed people to survive, to take the better, safer road to avoid death or harm. Fear of pain. Fear of loss. Fear for those around you, there was always fear that lingered deep within, it was just a matter of finding that fear. For many, fear acted as a sort of exciting event, actively seeking out the thrills of fear where ever they could find them. For others fear was a life style in a different manner, avoiding it’s confrontation rather than relishing in it. It was a feeling as old and primitive that dated back to the first sparks of life that entered this world.
For some men, however, fear was a weapon. Fear was an obsession to be observed, documented and relished. For men like the disgraced Doctor Jonathan Crane, specializing in psycho-pharmaceuticals, fear was an endless book whose pages were waiting to be discovered. He had spent his childhood living in fear, fear of his abusive father, fear of the bullies at school, fear of failure, fear of being a nobody. As he grew, however, that fear turned away from him and he started to learn to cause fear in others, in the name of science. He studied fear, the qualities of it, the physical reactions to it, the mental strain of it. He glorified in its power and influence and soon, as men who discover power do, began to crave it.
However despite his advances, both in the medical fields of study and in the psychological study of the mind, his obsession got the better of him. Illegal chemical treatments and designer drugs meant to induce violent fear frenzies resulted Crane’s expulsion from the Medical World as well as potential jail time however such a fate was not befitting of a man of Crane’s intelligence. If the world would not recognize his greatness and the power he had discovered he would make the world recognize him. He would make the World, which had caused him so much fear, tremble at his name.
Thus began the career of the Scarecrow, the moniker that Crane adopted when he drugged three officers with an airborne variant of his fear inducing drugs. From there Crane when on to terrorize Gotham for a full year before he was captured and committed to Arkham Asylum, his fear based obsession finally driving him to madness. However the walls of Arkham could not contain him and he frequently broke free to spread terror in Gotham once again. Then, once the Batman was gone, the one man that even the Scarecrow feared was removed. Gleefully Scarecrow was part of the massive break out of Arkham, his eyes on bringing panic back to Gotham.
It did not take long for Crane to find a safe place to work deep in the bowels of Gotham’s industrial section. In this seedy, cold part of town it was a rarity to see the police. Gang violence and criminal enterprises utilized the area as a cache for stolen goods, weapons and drugs and as such it was heavily patrolled by their enforcers. Darkened warehouse windows and aging structures added to the desolate feel as armed men slowly patrolled doorways and allies. It was as safe a place as one would expect to find in Gotham so long as you didn’t cause to much trouble. Unfortunately the Scarecrow had only one thing on his mind.
Fear.
By now the Crane had become so proficient in the creation of his Fear Toxin he didn’t even need his recipe book anymore. More than that he had learned how to use simpler chemicals and compounds to create a sort of impure, simplified version of his Fear Toxin which usually resulted in either extreme flight responses or intense violent fear frenzy outbursts. Regardless of the outcome of its use, Crane was always pleased to record the data. The ingredients were cheap enough and localized enough that he could often find them at local drug stories or pharmacies making his work faster and easier. Tonight, after several hours of experimenting and waiting, the first batch of his dirty Fear Toxin was ready.
The first of his ploys was naturally to ensure his toxin worked. Given the lack of local people to test it on Crane turned his insane brain toward the guards keeping watch over their master’s treasures. Stealing from criminals was just as illegal as stealing from legitimate people and Crane honestly needed the money. So all in all it worked out for everybody, Crane would get his money and his data whilst his victims would be the first to try out his Fear Vemon and assist the march of Science and Understanding. For that he would need his mask, a tired looking sack with various stitching and slits to give it the appearance of a scarecrow’s face also hid away an advanced re-breather system that allowed Crane to use his airborne drugs without fear of infecting himself.
Ensuring that his face was well protected and hidden, Crane gathered his chemicals and snuck out of his darkened warehouse with his sights set on a small mob holding about two blocks over. Two thickly built thugs had been watching over the small cache of supplies and cash or the better part of the week and Crane figured now was as good a time as ever to invest in them capacities to withstand his Fear Toxin. Sneaking up on them, for the thin and wiry Crane, was not difficult as the two men conversed about their pointless lives, reliving pointless memories with each other as they slowly wasted away guarding whatever their masters had pointed at. How like poorly trained guard dogs they were, Crane often thought.
”One bright day in the middle of the night two dead boys got up to fight..”Crane’s voice whispered from the shadow’s in a sing song manner, the voice twisted and changed by his mask giving it a more disharmonious sound. ”Back to back they faced each other, drew their swords and shot each other..”
”What in the hell was that?” the more thickly built of the two guards said out loud, his gruff, somewhat dull sounding voice piping up as he drew his pistol. The smaller, younger guard quickly drew his own pistol, his blue eyes going wide as he looked around the seemingly empty lot their small office was situated on.
”..I.. I don’t like this Boonie. Maybe.. maybe this is that Batman? They said he’s come back..” the smaller man said, his hands shaking slightly as he cocked the hammer back on his gun. The larger man let out a heavy snort as he shook his head.
”Not likely.. Heard the Bat is dead. ‘Sides, he’d have no reason to be here.. no point.. we ain’t anything important..” the bigger thug said as he checked to make sure his safety was off before he pointed his gun into the shadows. They were met with a faint hissing sound that caused both men to look at each other in confusion.
”A deaf police men heard the noise and ran over to save the two dead boys..” Crane’s manipulated voice sung out again as the perception of it weaved though the minds of the two men as the world seemed to twist in front of them. The two staggered slightly at their new found perception, shaking their heads and blinking their eyes as they tried to right themselves out. ”..And if you don’t believe me, it’s true..Go as a blind man.. he saw it too.. heheh..”
Stepping forward through the darkness, two red eyes gleamed out at the two guards whose faces had become a drawn white. The young of the two immediately soiled himself as his eyes stared at the horrific nightmare that was drawing toward them, a contorted, twisted living Scarecrow flanked by two dead boys with bullet holes in their head. The young man’s shaky hand rose to point the pistol at the monster before him. The other, the larger man, quickly dropped his gun as his mouth began to foam, his eyes dilating. Cold sweat started to form on his face as a powerful primitive instinct started to kick in. Unlike his younger colleague, he saw something totally different.
The buildings twisted into tangled trees and darkened canopies. The creature walking toward them slipped into the background as he was awash in the blood of the bodies around him, friends from a terrible war so long ago. He staggered back, foam roiling form his mouth as he looked down at his hands, covered in blood.. the blood of his friends. The blood of a thousand soldiers that died needlessly in this shit hole of a country. A noise came from beside him.. he turned quickly to see his enemy, gun raised at something..
”What are you afraid of?... pull the trigger. What does it matter, there is no way out of this nightmare now! HA-HA-HA!” The shrill voice of Crane echoed in the darkened backlot as the young man began to weep, his hand violently shaking as he tried to aim at the monster laughing at him. Suddenly a massive hand wrapped around his face and twisted violently, snapping his neck instantly as his partner gibbered insanely to himself, mouth foaming. Crane canted his head to the side as he took another step forward, the rabid man reaching down and picking up his partner’s gun. ”..what are you thinking? What are you seeing?! Oh please tell me! Tell me!.. oh-ehehe..”
The jubilant Scarecrow took another step forward, his body wrenching forward like some kind of a corpse as the remaining man stared at him with a wild, animalistic stare. The man quickly cocked the gun and lifted it to his temple as he blinked rapidly, blood starting to drip out of his nose. Crane paused, looking down at the man expectantly from behind his sack like mask.
”..S..Sorry. So.. sorry.. couldn’t.. save.. couldn’t..”Closing his eyes tightly, the man let out a pathetic sounding whimper..
BANG
The man’s head was evacuated of its contents as the man sent a 9.mm bullet through his brain cavity. His body slumped to the side as blood, bone and brain matter was splattered across the cement ground. Crane took another step forward, slowly stepping around the blood as to avoid disturbing the bodies. Reaching down he retrieved a key to the warehouse from the suicide’s pocket, dangling it in front of himself.
f29, *Sunbeam: Mundanes... Mundanes are good. I could handle a mundane. *eyes avatar*
ad2, 'Ravee: I'm very glad you are too =D
f29, *Sunbeam: *shines brilliantly just for Ravee* Finally checked my e-mail, and here I am!
ad2, 'Ravee: *warms herself on Sunbeam* Hello hello there
f29, *Sunbeam: Hai.
ad2, 'Ravee: *continues profile work*
DICE: Ravee rolls 5 = 5 on a 1d6.
ad2, 'Ravee: *ponders profile work or a cameo*
ad2, 'Ravee: *slips in for a little lunch time lurk*
ad2, 'Ravee: And off for the night.
e2b, *Harvey Dent : ((Link))
2b6, *Two-Face : ((Link))
e2b, *Harvey Dent : ((Harvey test))
2b6, *Two-Face : ((Two-Face test))
ad2, 'Ravee: *kicks up settings*
98e, *Batwoman 
: Darkness reigns over Gotham once more. To most of the civilian population it's cause for apprehension. For all they know tonight could be the night when they cross paths with the Joker or Two Face or any other of the crazed criminals that call the darkness home. However tonight may also be the night when they're allowed to peacefully go about their business thanks to a silent protector. In fact, it's more likely that they won't run into any trouble at all. That's because despite their arguably reasonable fears the darkness doesn't belong to those that move in and out of Arkham through its revolving door. The days when it was their refuge have long since passed. These days the darkness belongs to the Dark Knight and those he's inspired into existence.
Batwoman is one such individual. High above Gotham's filthy streets and the smog cloud that hangs over them she resides on the ledge of one of Gotham General's higher floors. A mass of red that is her long flowing hair and cape blow wildly in the wind that carries in a fresh summer storm. Her white eyes can be seen peering down at the streets below through the obstacles. Moreover her deep red lips can be seen subtly moving as she seems to be carrying out a conversation. Although there are no visible signs of communication devices on her. Then again, if she were to have some, they likely wouldn't be visible.
"No pops, I heard what you said I just chose not to listen." There's a subtle upward twitch at the right corner of Batwoman's lips. "You got me there, sir. Maybe you should consider alternate tactics. The definition of insanity is doing the same action but expecting different results. Keep it up and it might be you I'm visiting in Arkham next."
Batwoman's gaze focuses on movement that's taking place below. "They're here. - Yes sir, I will." Without any fear she then pushes away from the building. For a moment she allows herself to freefall towards the street, face first. When those couple of seconds pass she extends her arms and her deep red cape goes rigid. She pulls up from the dive bomb and begins to glide over to the commotion that's begun at Gotham General's back entrance. A small group of thugs must have missed the memo regarding the darkness or are otherwise arrogant enough to think it doesn't apply to them. Either way, she's about to firmly educate them on the matter. Fade.
Last Post:4:36pm, August 31 (UTC) (1)
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