Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow
"and at the end of fear...Oblivion"
Player: Jon ~
Registered On: Feb 15, 2012 20:39:14 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 941
~ Relationship Status: Won't Say I'm In Love
~ Partner: Fear
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Post by Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow on Mar 4, 2012 15:06:09 GMT -5
[Takes place shortly after Caged, Drugged, and Wounded]
The docks had been almost abandoned since the FBI had moved in. Dr. Crane made it his temporary residence for most of the time that they had been here. He kept his head down and stayed very quite while he worked on testing a bran new toxin. Recently he had moved into Arkham and abandoned his previous site at the docks. Only leaving behind enough supplies to get him by if he was pushed back.
Arriving at the docks The Scarecrow wrapped his fingers carefully around each bar and pulled himself up. He pushed up on the man hole and slid it to the side. Looking up for a moment he checked for any of the national guard that were scrambling to find them. The reality was that they had no idea where The Scarecrow had been all this time. It was unlikely that they would find him here.
Seeing that it was clear he climbed out and waited for Croc to make his exit. Only a short distance more and he turned and walked down a short set of stairs towards the water. After crossing a few low bridges built for docking boats they came upon a small shack tucked tightly underneath an arch that supported the road above.
Slowly his hand reached for the doorknob opening it carefully and peering inside. The coast was clear. Stepping inside he rummaged through a few objects in a corner by the matress that lay on the floor. He eventually picked out a match and struck it against the floor lighting the lantern. He picked it up and carried it to the table on the right side of the room. Opening a few drawers he began to look for things he knew that he needed to treat Croc's wound. After a few moments he pulled out two unlabeled bottles and 3 capped syringes. Unless he was injecting anything into the wound site itself it would be difficult to pierce the tough skin of Croc. He wasn't in the habit of reusing needles, but in this case he may not have a choice.
The Scarecrow carefully removed the large and now empty syringe from his jacket and placed it out on the table as well. For now he didn't say a word to Croc. Talking to animals was not something he took pleasure in doing let along talking to other humans. The Scarecrow pulled off his mask and laid it gently on the table not needing it. His identity wasn't a concern with Croc, he knew very well who he was.
Focused on what he was doing he wasn't paying attention to much of what Croc was doing. He expected him to walk in and sit down if he had any hope of being treated, especially after that demand earlier in the sewers. Quickly he uncapped each syringe and began filling them with chemicals he had removed from the drawer.
Having everything in place he turned from the desk and leaned against it placing his hands at rest on their edge. Before he did anything he wanted to inspect the wound more closely. Such an incredible creature Croc was, he couldn't help but wonder...What does the Croc Fear?
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Post by Deleted on Mar 4, 2012 15:47:15 GMT -5
Croc wasn't sure where they were going, but he figured they must be near the docks because of the strong smell of fish. He climbed out right after Fran and immediately found out that he had been right. They were at the docks. Copying Crane, he scanned the area with his feral eyes, looking for prey, but the docks were deserted.
Sniffing just to be sure, but only detecting Crane and fish, he followed the doctor to a shack and squeezed his way in after Crane, grimacing as his shoulder brushed the doorframe, sending fireworks before his eyes. Immediatly, he plumped down on the mattress and layer back with a pleasurable.grumble of relief, watching Crane as he rummaged through his stuff for whatever he was looking for.
He wondered what Crane wanted in return for a moment, but honestly didn't care. All he wanted was for his shattered shoulder to mend and his infection to leave his body, as well as the blood poisoning. He knew he would need stitches in various places, but it didn't matter. He also knew it would take time for his shoulder to mend even without the infection. Damn Batman just had to drop a crane right on top of it. The thought of the massive iron crane made his shoulder throb even more. The mattress was already stained where blood had dripped from his wound.
Despite all this, he wasn't afraid. Wasn't even worried. He lost his sense of fear long ago and replaced it with fury. Now instead of fearing something, he was angry at it, and your did not want Croc to be angry with you. Croc didn't even have any friends or allies. Just people he wanted to eat, and people he didn't. Lucky for Crane, he was currently on the people-Croc-doesnt-want-to-eat list.
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Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow
"and at the end of fear...Oblivion"
Player: Jon ~
Registered On: Feb 15, 2012 20:39:14 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 941
~ Relationship Status: Won't Say I'm In Love
~ Partner: Fear
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Post by Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow on Mar 4, 2012 20:57:32 GMT -5
Dr. Crane pushed himself off the table and walked to the massive creature that now sat in most of his hideout. Carefully without touching the infected area he moved his hands around Croc's arm and shoulder inspecting it more. “Sepsis is very likely at this point, I'll have to administer a series of antibiotics. You'll be lucky if it recovers in this state. You can still move it which is a good sign, if it gets any worse you may have to lose the area to save your life.” The doctor spoke with little emotion in his voice. It wasn't Croc's life that he was concerned with it was his blood. He wondered if Croc actually understood a single word he said. Looking like that it would have been unlikely he got a proper education.
The first thing that needed to be done was stop the infection from spreading further. He turned from Croc and went back to the table grabbing a rag from the underside of it. The doctor shook the rag out and then folded it neatly into a few folds of a square. He grabbed a bottle from behind some of his lab tools marked Penicillin. The infection as so large he almost wanted to pour the bottle over it. But he refrained and soaked the cloth until it was quite damp. Bringing it back over to Croc he rose the rag to show him what he was going to do.
This was going to hurt. A lot. Dr. Crane stopped for a moment trying to find some fear in the creatures eyes. Without giving the creature any time to protest he placed the cloth on the wound. It was rather large so he had to move it around some to coat the entire area. He wasn't worried that Croc would thrash around much, surely he could take pain being as massive as he was. If he did try Dr. Crane was ready. He wouldn't be able to overpower him but he could avoid his attack easily enough so he thought.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 4, 2012 21:49:45 GMT -5
Croc watched as the doctor approached him and started speaking nonsense that Croc just ended up tuning out. Didn't he know that big words were a no no around Croc? Or was he just doing it to annoy him? If so, it was working. Croc was obviously annoyied.
When Crane left to grab a rag, Croc sniffed at the air casually, trying to detect what was on it, but almost immediately recoiled as a strong scent burned his sharp nose. He watched Crane approach again and was confused when the doctor looked him in the eye. Was he looking for fear? If so, he was looking in the wrong place. Croc had no fear. Only anger.
It stung as he pressed the rag over to wound, enough to cause him grunt a little, but that was all. It didn't hurt nearly as bad as.it had when Croc had first received the wound from Batman. He actually found himself relaxing and closing his eyes with relief, glad he was finally being treated.
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Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow
"and at the end of fear...Oblivion"
Player: Jon ~
Registered On: Feb 15, 2012 20:39:14 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 941
~ Relationship Status: Won't Say I'm In Love
~ Partner: Fear
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Post by Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow on Mar 5, 2012 17:51:43 GMT -5
Dr. Crane continued to pat the cloth for a few moments, his silence only confirmed his suspicions that Croc had no idea what he had just said. After it had been fully coated he turned from him again and threw the bloodied cloth onto the table. He carefully lifted one of the filled syringes and turned around to face Croc.
With a few taps he pushed some of the antibiotic out to make sure there was no bubbles. He did so again with the rest of the syringes on the table making sure Croc could see what he was doing. Tapping the last one he was satisfied with the syringes and placed them all in his left hand. It should be plenty of medicine for his size. Bringing the needles to him he studied the few sites that he planned on injecting him. Carefully the doctor lifted his arm turning it some towards him to get a better look at it as a whole. One by one he began to inject him with the antibiotics.
With some force and some slight moving and nudging around his rough skin the needles went in. “I saw saying earlier..” He paused and thought for a moment of how he could dumb down his words. “You may lose your arm.” he added bluntly. It was the truth he couldn't promise him that it could recover. Telling him about the details of it would be difficult with his obvious limited vocabulary. It was best to just leave it at he might lose the limb.
All the the injections were finished and he went back to the table to place the needles on them. Near the door was a small cabinet on the floor with limited supplied inside. The doctor opened it and rummaged through it until he came across what he wanted. It was a small first aid kit. Clicking it open he walked back over to Croc and proceeded to pull out a long surgical wire. He focused on attaching what he needed to it. There was certain area's on the wound that were too large to stitch but some of it could be pulled back together.
After the stitching material was ready he opened his suit jacket slowly. Inside two syringes could be seen, they were bigger and one was filled with a neon yellow fluid. The other was completely empty. Slowly Dr. Crane traced his fingers along the first syringe. He thought for a long moment stopping his movements before finally grabbing the second and empty syringe. “Just one thing before I close the wound.” He said with a sinister smile appearing slowly across his face. He wanted a sample of Croc's blood, it may have an infection but he could still be able to isolate it with a bit of work. Regardless he didn't want to be empty handed from this.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 5, 2012 18:05:43 GMT -5
Croc saw the needles and grumbled something unintelligable. He wasn't afraid of him or the sharp syringes. No, his muttering was just random. The only word that could be made out was murder. Who's to say he was talking about Crane? Who's to say he wasn't? Croc didn't rightly know himself, he just felt the need to speak for some strange reason.
He didn't move as Crane prodded and poked him until he had found a suitable place to insert the needles. It felt rather nice to feel the antibiotics drain into his bloodstream. He barely heard Crane's warning. So what if he lost the arm? "Oh well." Croc replied simply, watching as Crane turned away again and pulled out a small kit. He eyed the new syringe for a moment before figuring that Crane wanted some blood. Probably for some new experiment. Whatever, Croc simply grunted in reply. After all this, it would take a normal human months to recover. It would only take him a few weeks.
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Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow
"and at the end of fear...Oblivion"
Player: Jon ~
Registered On: Feb 15, 2012 20:39:14 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 941
~ Relationship Status: Won't Say I'm In Love
~ Partner: Fear
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Post by Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow on Mar 5, 2012 20:03:10 GMT -5
The beast seemed to have little regard for his well being. He was probably just happy to be out of a cell and away from the National Guard. Who knows what they would have done to him there. Luckily for Croc the doctor had far bigger plans for him than the National Guard.
Seeing that he had no protest to what he was doing Crane stuck the syringe in his arm. He hit a vein and he began to fill it with blood. He took about half of it's length and then placed the syringe back in his suit jacket. Having what he wanted Dr. Crane proceeded to start the stitching. He pushed the head of the needle into Croc's rough skin and then up through the other side pulling it tightly. Tighter than he normally would for a human.
The doctor remained silent as he stitched. He never was one for idle conversation, or any conversation that didn't have to do with his work or their deepest fears. Unless their eyes were filling with terror Dr. Crane didn't have much to say. The mood in the room was uncomfortable to say the least. He continued stitching the correct places before finally cutting off the last end of the wire. Reaching his hand back into the tool kit he pulled out some gauze and two clips. Carefully he wrapped Croc's wound to prevent further infection. “If the infection spreads further down the arm or you lose the use of it it may need to be amputated-” He stopped and thought to myself. With Croc he needed to speak in smaller terms. “If you cannot use your arm, be worried” his last statement bringing a cynical smile to his face.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 5, 2012 20:10:47 GMT -5
Croc had little to say as Crane proceeded to stitch up his mammoth of a wound. Just like Crane, he wasn't much of a talker. He didn't even wonder what the taken blood was for. Honestly, he didn't care. As soon as Crane had finished, he sat up feeling relatively better and looked down at Crane, who was speaking again.
"I do not care for my arm. It will heal faster then a normal persons. I will not loose it." Croc answered simply, finally feeling the need to form words. He sniffed Crane and thought fir a moment if he should leave her not. Not exactly knowing whether it would be dangerous, he decided to ask. "Can I leave now? I'm hungry. I could do for meat." He growled, then looked around curious. Besides Crane himself, was there anything edible in the run down shack they were in?
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Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow
"and at the end of fear...Oblivion"
Player: Jon ~
Registered On: Feb 15, 2012 20:39:14 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 941
~ Relationship Status: Won't Say I'm In Love
~ Partner: Fear
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Post by Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow on Mar 5, 2012 21:32:24 GMT -5
Dr. Crane stepped back slowly as the beast rose to his feet. He had what he wanted from him and although the temptation was great, he wanted to refrain from turning this into something more than it was suppose to be. He wondered what does Croc fear? He thought to himself for a moment watching him turn his head back and forth looking around the room. The comment about not being worried about his arm displeased Dr. Crane. It was difficult to get fear out of this one.
Phobia's could always be instilled with a conditioned stimulus. But that would take time and a cage large enough to hold him. Nothing would probably upset Croc more than to be thrown from one cage to another. He couldn't do it here however, perhaps if they were at Arkham but not here. His sie would be his advantage and his downfall. Dr. Crane thought about the event that would play out if he were to try anything with the beast.
Avoiding his attacks wouldn't be too hard with his art. However it was a very small area and he was very big. If Croc were able just to get one hit in Dr. Crane would be through the wood and into the water. It wouldn't be a good situation. He stepped to the side away from the door allowing Croc to leave if he wished. He had best leave quickly before the doctor changed his mind. Resisting the temptation of instilling fear in others didn't come easily to him of late.
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Last Edit: Mar 5, 2012 21:41:56 GMT -5 by Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Mar 5, 2012 21:41:16 GMT -5
CrNe hesitated, though still stepped to the side. It was a good thing to because while Crane was pondering his options, Croc was pondering how tasty the doctor would be, despite his skinnyness. Without so much as a.grunt in thanks or even farewell, the massive man-beast shoved Crane against the wall and squeezed past, the doorframe shuttering violently as he forced his massive body out of the stuffy shack and into the cool, fishy air, which he inhaled with delight.
Unlike Crane, Croc didn't hesitated. He ran forward and pushed himself off the.ground and into the air with large, powerful legs, diving into the deep depths of the river and dissapearing, completely submerged. He would use his feet to swim, and his one good arm, but his injured arm would remain immobile at his side as he swam off.
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