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Last Edit: Sept 25, 2012 23:08:48 GMT -5 by hatter
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Post by hatter on Sept 25, 2012 22:45:37 GMT -5
On another day spent in Arkham, where he had only recently come to work as a psychiatrist, Hugo Strange was walking through one of the many halls on his way to a destination where a most important interview would be conducted, very soon in fact. Strange looked like he usually did, authoritarian, black beard graying, bald as an egg, lines of age drawn into his forehead, and also wearing the usual round spectacles along with a brown suit and black sweater.
The Professor understood that a certain Doctor Jonathan Crane had just lost his practitioner's of psychiatry license a few months back due to particular acts of the criminally insane persuasion, resulting of course in several deaths and abused minds, as long as Crane's incarceration here of course. When things like these happened to fellow doctors, Hugo Strange was very interested, especially when the fellow in question was a certain Jonathan Crane. Hadn't the dean at his medical school written a recommendation for him to intern here in times past, and hadn't he done extremely well in college despite several personal issues? Unlike someone else such as the Joker who simply was a bit of a facetious and uninteresting lout, Dr... or Mr. Crane was going to be much more interesting of a person to speak with, but of course unlike the Joker, he was a human being and not a dog.
To be a human you have to have an understanding of the heterophenomenological aspect of life, not be purely self-interested in your own mental being, and this was one of the things Crane would understand as a fellow man of science. He also wasn't bellicose in his personal manner, something that Strange had in common as far as he knew. Yet another thing he expected that they held in common was the fact that they weren't out to prove their own worth as superincumbent to others' as someone like the Riddler was, they were interested in how the mind works. That's why the good Professor was conducting this clandestine interview himself, without the knowledge of Arkham who insisted on personally supervising the important interviews such as these, probably due to the power issues that Hugo sometimes suspected he had.
"Cases like these are always impossible." One of the other, younger and also slightly overweight doctors walking by said, slightly shaking his head and keeping his hands in his pockets, apparently having given up on whatever the problem was he was talking about.
"Nothing is impossible. If something is written as such, then rewrite it." Hugo Strange said, more to himself than to the psychologist that had passed by.
But perhaps the thing that interested him the most, was the fact that this fairly young doctor with such a bright future had taken an obvious fall into a monotonous pit as a known criminal stripped of his license and his past life, perhaps it caused Hugo Strange a small amount of worry, because it meant that the best of us are never safe, not even when we seem to be at our healthiest and most sane, something comes to claim what is perhaps rightfully its to claim, whether it be life, morality, or sanity.
Strange stopped at a metal door where the ex-doctor was at, and would remain for the length of this session. He drew back the latch and opened the door, stepping inside the room.
He would speak with this Doctor Jonathan Crane, and he would hopefully come to understand what went inside one of the bright minds of our present time as best as he could, and come out at the very least with some figurative food for thought.
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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 Oct 2, 2012 18:36:24 GMT -5
There was a dark brooding that was going on in the cell around him. Dr. Crane was still trying to process everything that had gone on in the past few months. He had been transferred from place to place, holding cell to holding cell, while the courts decided where they were going to put him. He had remained silent through most of his actual hearing, only pausing to speak when the representative from Arkham Asylum began to present their case. Dr. Arkham couldn't even come himself; the coward wouldn't even show himself after he had him thrown back in here.
He had never expected the state to let him be taken and committed to the very place where he once worked. They had stripped him of everything right in front of him; they tore everything away from him. All of the time he had spent building himself to that point, all of his work and research, they all were laughing at him. It was only because they couldn't understand what was going on around them, they were too blind to see the world that they lived in and what truly ran their lives.
This was all Dr. Arkham’s doing. The words that had come out of the young representative from the Asylum in court were not his own. No, those came straight from the mouth of the doctor himself. He had caused him to be arrested in the first place and now he had him dragged back into his clutches. He wanted to keep him here like his lab rat, as his pet. Dr. Arkham had always been jealous of his work, jealous of his talents. The little critiques and writings all over his papers proved such a notion, which could only lead back to one simple truth. He was afraid of him. What he wouldn't do to prove that theory right here in this room....right now.
The bright florescence of the light in the room was nothing he wasn't used to, but for some reason when he had first been thrown in it had bothered him more than usual. Dr. Crane sat idly on the floor in his new orange attire. He had always seen it on patients of his but never quite understood just how it felt until he was in it. He had heard complaints before about the clothing, but the only thing that bothered him about it was the fact that he was wearing it. The band around his wrist hung with only a small space to stick his fingers through. It was a temporary tag with his number on it, how he would be referred to on documents and research notes. Now he was the one with the number.
As he sat on the floor staring forward into nothingness his eyes seemed to sink into another world. What fear drove the man? Was it because he was the largest threat to him? It must have been….Dr. Cranes mind boggled with the possibilities of each cause and effect to what had happened. There was always one consistent, and that Dr. Arkham was the source of this. Suddenly his thought pattern was broken as the heavy metal door creaked and swung open.
In stepped a larger man – at least in muscle mass. His glasses shined about as brightly as his bare head in the light of the cell. This man must have been a new doctor; he had never seen him before. It wasn't like he paid much attention to the other doctors to begin with but he was sure he probably heard his share of rumors about him by now. This whole incident only confirming their whispers before about his ‘wild’ theories and unstable demeanor. They were always talking behind his back, avoiding him at all costs, and terrified to work with him. Dr. Crane simply didn't have time for any of them either, nor did he care to.
Dr. Crane didn't move from the floor, any brooding anger that he had had been dropped immediately with his entrance and switched to a much more lifeless demeanor. These doctors were already so insistent that he was incapable of such emotions; why not give them what they want? In his eyes it wasn't far from the truth either. “The doctor won’t see me himself?” He asked blankly, slowly raising his eyes to meet his gaze. He couldn't say he was surprised that the doctor wouldn't come himself. He was scared…and soon enough, this doctor would be too.
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Last Edit: Oct 2, 2012 21:24:11 GMT -5 by hatter
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Post by hatter on Oct 2, 2012 21:22:42 GMT -5
Arkham Asylum had another new doctor turned patient it seemed, whom today he would be the subject of this interview. It was not a well-boding omen for the prestigious institute seeing it had lost its founder to madness. The founder was Amadeus Arkham, who had named the asylum after his mother, suffered from mental illness that his family had a history of, though judging from events in his life one could say he had a very good reason to go insane. It was not without great tragedy that Arkham had gotten to where it was, and that would most likely continue to be its rule.
Jonathan Crane who was once a thin, tall doctor standing tall and proud with his contributions here at Arkham was now a tall, thin patient sitting on the floor of his asylum cell, probably depressed about his circumstances. The Scarecrow, mad scientist and purveyor of the fears that people hold in their minds, was in confines that would serve to protect the people outside from his antics and give him an opportunity to be treated for his mental ailment. He'd probably been thoroughly searched for anything that he had on him in the outside world, because there was always a risk of possible escape when it came to these criminals and their rather inventive use of weaponry.
The patient mumbled something about some doctor as Strange came in, but Hugo didn't understand who he was talking about. Maybe he wanted to speak to Jeremiah Arkham, or another one of the doctors here, Strange wasn't sure, but he did his best to give him a response and introduce himself.
"I will see you now, Mr. Crane, to conduct your psychiatric evaluation. You will of course know me as Professor Hugo Strange." Strange said in stern reply.
Hugo Strange surveyed the austere but very well lit confines of Crane's holding cell in a nonchalant manner, before looking down at the patient across the room, whose faded crystal blue eyed gaze now met his own. So this was the good Dr. Jonathan Crane, who had given up a life of good meaning for the criminality of his alter-ego the Scarecrow, joining the ranks of the city's costumed criminal deviants with his own gimmick among their gimmicks, fear gas, a tool designed to bring sheer terror into the minds of the Scarecrow's experiments. From his view behind his rounded spectacles, Crane didn't look like much at all to the Professor, he was just a thin man with a blank look about him in the orange asylum uniform, presumably depressed about his circumstances now that he was one of the inmates he'd once been assigned to treat.
Dr. Arkham hadn't been interested in visiting this one, which was sad, Hugo noted, but paved the way for his own interesting conversation with the patient today within these four walls. Strange knew there was something quite interesting about this patient in particular, and he was determined to find it out. Strange wanted to know precisely why Jonathan could give up his respectable career as a fairly liked though warily regarded psychologist for a life such as this, and he wanted to find out from Crane himself, not have to rely on subpar information from someone else.
"You will not attempt to physically resist or escape as I am watching you. Arkham Asylum continues to raise the standard of security and uphold goodwill to all mankind. It has set an example for all mental health facilities worldwide, and it is in your best interest to remain here willingly. You should respect us and this foundation, not because your excellent work has graced it, but because now it will begin to benefit you by ensuring the salvation of your mind."
When the Professor was finished with his small speech he continued staring into Crane's eyes without blinking, silent for several seconds. He was interested in seeing if this man would give him a response or remain quiet, but whatever the case may be Hugo preferred a talking patient over a silent one, and he wouldn't be able to figure out Crane's reasoning without his participation in this conversation. He was entirely certain that this man was in his right mind and probably wouldn't change his behavior, at least as right as it could be however mentally unsound to the rest of us it was, but that it was still possible he could be reintroduced into society at some point in time.
"You seem to be lean and fit. Your head is normocephalic and your decision making ability, as far as I know, is quite sound. Tell me about yourself."
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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 Oct 15, 2012 17:18:02 GMT -5
Dr. Crane was the second doctor to end up in the asylum that used to house their job. In this case it was due to Dr. Arkham himself, the very lineage of the one it happened to first. This was different that his crazy relative however, he wasn’t insane. No, Dr. Crane was completely sane and he knew it, he questioned no part of it. Amadeus Arkham was insane; he couldn’t take the pressure of the inmates that he housed. Most of the details were released to the public about the incident that pushed him over the edge, but even he knew that Dr. Arkham was hiding something more that he knew about the incident. This was entirely different from that situation, the head doctor had set him up and got him thrown behind his own bars.
He was stripped of everything and placed in this bright orange suit without a care for any of his work. His work was probably a big reason why Dr. Arkham has thrown him in here in the first place. He was always writing those little notes on his work, his own critique on what he knew to be the truth! The very thought was enough to make his blood boil, and each time he saw a red mark he’d shred the doctors work. The moment that his pen had touched the paper it became worthless, because it was perfect to begin with and then it was tampered with.
Dr. Crane’s stare bore into Dr. Strange’s as he stated his purpose here. The smallest of twitches came into his eye, an almost unseen wince. This man, was going to be his new doctor? Even more than that, the arbiter of his stability? Who was this man, and where were his qualifications to be able to handle someone like him? Did Dr. Arkham believe this to be a cruel joke? He wasn’t buying into it, something wasn’t right and it was written all over the new doctor’s face. He had separate intentions for being here…None of them for Dr. Crane’s well-being or his mental health.
The lifeless twig sitting on the ground was all but depressed, behind his cold stone wall demeanor was an unsuitable rage in his eyes. He wanted to kill Dr. Arkham for what he had done to him. He would murder him in cold blood. Society wanted to label him as a murderer? They haven’t seen anything yet. He would make the man suffer for his crimes against him, and just as he had been stripped of everything, Dr. Crane would strip him of everything he held close. The man had no family and no life outside of his work but he would find something to strip from him, even if it was his own skin.
His eyes looked right through the doctors. It was a stare that could get him thrown in a cell for just that fact alone. So this was the subject that Dr. Arkham had sent to him. How thoughtful he was to give him a new patient. This one wouldn’t last very long and he would prove it to him. A slight tilt began of his head as his demands were made, and a very demanding man he was. The salvation of his mind? He obviously didn’t know who he was speaking with. Did he really think that he could fix him? Did he think that he needed to be fixed? There was nothing wrong with him, he was perfectly sane.
Silence hung heavy in the air after he was done speaking. It took a long moment before Dr. Crane finally decided to break it, choosing his words wisely. His eyes met to the challenge of Dr. Hugo Strange’s, gaze, never faltering from it. “I am fear…” He stated simply, yet the answer was so complex he would never understand what he meant. His dead eyes stayed locked with the doctors and silently threatened him to stay exactly where he was, he didn’t need to come any further.
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Last Edit: Oct 23, 2012 15:22:47 GMT -5 by hatter
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Post by hatter on Oct 23, 2012 15:15:34 GMT -5
It took a long while for Crane to break the silence and form a sort of response to Hugo's introductory questioning, admittedly enough, almost as if he was trying to convey the depths of his sad looking self through his eyes alone. And when he did it was only with three simple words stated in a plain sounding voice, 'I am fear', and these three words seemingly were valueless in their meaning, but perhaps possessed great mental import to their originator. Crane's eyes kept themselves locked on Hugo's, showing he certainly wasn't afraid of the Professor, but then again Jonathan Crane sitting here on the asylum cell floor wasn't supposed to fear the help of a medical professional, not at all. He was supposed to take to help's knowledge and learn from it; after all, the doctors were here to help him, not hinder him. At least that was their chosen role to play in this profession anyway.
"I take it you would like me to refer to you as Mr. Fear, Jonathan Crane? I'm going to call you specifically.. Crane. You must not allow yourself to give into grandiosity if you're interested in developing yourself to your utmost potential." Hugo said, taking off his glasses.
As he cleaned them with a grey handkerchief taken from the pocket of his brown suit, he continued speaking. Obviously he'd serve as the main source of conversation in the room, as Crane didn't seem interested in saying too much. Hugo tried to give him some advice, since he couldn't say anything else to question and gauge Crane's personal history in his own words unless it would actually ensure he'd get a response, which hadn't been gained so far, at least not a long one. Perhaps Crane was simply being evasive, since his reputation was tarnished, and he didn't want to say too much. Maybe his functions had been impaired due to deteriorated function.
"After all look at it this way: does the mouse that believes itself to be a lion succeed in attacking the tiger? Or does the mouse that believes itself to be a mouse succeed in hiding away, feeding off of its supply of cheese? Do not give into delusion, Mr. Crane...." Strange said, pausing in his speech to replace the handkerchief and push the glasses back on his nose.
Professor Hugo Strange just stood there, not bothering to go any further into the room, and waited for another type of response. This patient interviews would be interesting, he'd surely conduct more with others who were just as interesting as ex-doctor Crane. Arkham Asylum contained many more people who in all their varying states of mental health would make good studies on the human mind, making it a gold mine for research. That was what Strange was here for, besides doing his job and possibly 'curing' people overtime, which would take a lot of study.
"What we are means more than what we pretend to be." Hugo Strange finished.
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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 Oct 29, 2012 17:23:10 GMT -5
The words he said ever everything but valueless. Everything he said had a deeper meaning and purpose. He was fear, he was everything, it was all so insanely clear. He was the reason why Dr. Strange was standing here in the room looking smugly over him and he would also be the reason why he would leave. Dr. Crane would show them, he would show every doctor that laughed at him and his theories. Every doctor that thought they were better than him or that was afraid of him through an extreme jealousy. He would show Dr. Arkham his true purpose…but first….this man….
A small twitch could be seen in his eye as he once again called him Mr. He deserved the title he had worked so hard for. Dr. Crane deserved to have all the recondition for his work and every title that came with it. Just because he was thrown in here on a false charge, something he was innocent of, doesn’t mean that he simply wasn’t what he once was. Society tried to claim that to him however by stripping him of everything and forcing these…lesser beings to mock him at his name. “You will call me Dr. Crane” A slow monotone voice scraped out from his position. He wouldn’t get anywhere without the “Dr.” it was still an open wound for him. Each time he heard his name without it was like digging into the wound and never letting it scab over and heal. It never was going to heal…
His utmost potential? He was at his potential. There was nothing he could do to change that. Did he know who he was talking do? Did he know who was sitting lifeless on the floor below him? He should be trembling in fear, barreling for the door and begging someone from the outside to let him out. He should be screaming to the top of his lungs….But no…He wouldn’t know who he was. Dr. Crane had just barely scratched the surface of what he was going to do. The toxin he had created was the beginning of something beautiful and it was going to be the dawn of his legacy.
Dr. Crane was becoming bored quickly on the floor. He was half tempted to ignore the rest of what he was saying and just wait for him to leave; he didn’t have to say anything more to the man. He wasn’t impressed by his speech but he knew the answer. It was the answer to everything. Now his last statement got his attention. Dr. Crane slowly and unstably slid his hand over the cot that he laid near and pushed up on the flat cot. With a certain jerk, and sway about him he got to his feet. The sweat soaked strands of his unkempt hair fell in front of his sharp blue eyes as they turned back up to him and locked with Dr. Strange’s. “I am Fear…” He repeated and made a slow advance toward him.
He had become dead in his emotions as far as they would know. His ability to feel would go stagnate. He had no reason to express such emotions, there was only one true feeling that needed to be made known. One true basis that needed to be brought to the forefront. They all laughed at him, but none of them were laughing now… Now all of them would be screaming by the time it was over. Dr. Crane advanced toward him but turned at the last moment to head to the metal door. He placed his fingers on it gently and breathed into the small glass. “You will find nothing here….but fear…and despair…” The doctor breathed out against the metal, watching his breath fog the slab of glass above. Where was Dr. Arkham. “Bring me….Doctor…Arkham”
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Last Edit: Oct 30, 2012 2:10:39 GMT -5 by hatter
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Post by hatter on Oct 30, 2012 2:09:43 GMT -5
"You don't need Jeremiah one bit, Crane. I am here conducting this session."
Now that the ex-doctor was showing signs of activity Strange felt that this was going to be a much more interesting interview than he had just thought previously. He would have something to discuss, something interesting to discuss. Jonathan wanted to be called a doctor, so it wasn't much of something for Hugo to adhere to. It didn't help Hugo's case that Crane had grandiose delusions. Crane had these delusions quite obviously, for anyone that could speak to him could see them present. He probably denied that he did internally, but it didn't matter, he had them.
"Yes, you show good signs Doctor Crane. I know most ordinary doctors would cripple themselves in terror at the fact that you could possibly have some of your toxin secreted on you." Strange said, playing into Crane's false beliefs.
Strange stepped closer to Crane, now that the man had walked around the room showing some sign of movement, which in cases like these was a very good sign. First Crane had approached him, which was interesting to say the least, then he had made his way to the door. It was behavior that was much better than sitting on the ground of course. Crane looked like he needed to take a bath with the sweat visible in his hair. He was acting like a zombie, and Hugo found his behavior noteworthy, he'd have to see if Crane would shrug out of it later. He probably wouldn't.
Crane of course was a sociopath, who because of his terrible upbringing lacked the feelings of compassion that ordinary people held, and blamed everything he did on everyone else as he was incapable of holding himself guilty, and thereby could make his crimes right in his eyes, not that anything would make them wrong to him. He was technically sane by certain standards, and was just acting out, rather like Charles Manson had done in captivity with his dancing and facial expressions. However, there are some sociopaths who could live a successful life and never harm a soul, but of course they go relatively unnoticed as they have nothing to claim except their ordinary positions as bankers, lawyers, doctors, politicians. Rules do have exceptions. This Jonathan Crane ex-doctor here had been incapable of holding to the guidelines of society, and now he was outcast, therefore, by the standards of Professor Hugo Strange, he was entirely insane.
"But if you have it, share it with me. I'd like to see what you have drugged yourself with so as to accumulate your grandiosity complex and your aggrandizement of spiders and insects. That way I could easily flush it with my masterful mental strength, and in the process guide you on the correct path into a future where you are a normal man." Hugo continued.
He stepped towards Crane again, this time close enough to place a firm hand on his shoulder, which he did. He was entirely not afraid of Jonathan, as much as the ex-doctor would want him to be, and he would continue not to be. He ignored his calls for Jeremiah Arkham, who was not needed here regardless of Crane's probably hate for him. Professor Hugo Strange was here of his own accord, conducting this interview with this self proclaimed 'master of fear'.
"Crane, you fear much. You fear the Batman. And you do not know who he is. Do you, Doctor Crane?"
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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 Nov 8, 2012 19:51:25 GMT -5
Quite the contrary, he needed Dr. Arkham. He needed him so badly his mind was completely and totally bent on his revenge for him. Right now the cold and lifeless demeanor of Dr. Crane was only a mask for the rage that was burning inside of him. His movement to the door had been calm, but they had been a response nonetheless. He knew that the amateur doctor in the room would probably have all kinds of theories for it, and perhaps they were true but right now all he wanted was Dr. Arkham and nothing was going to prevent him from getting to that goal. He’d break the cell if he had to. There was little in him at the moment that was stronger than the need to bring him to the edge of oblivion, but it simply wasn’t enough. The man deserved to suffer in the worst possible ways imaginable.
He became a bit more responsive at the sound of the Doctor before his name. It was only right that he continued to be called by that title. Society has stripped him of his titles but that didn’t mean he lacked the knowledge to own them. Being a doctor was something that they would never be able to take from him, they may be able to take the title away and brand him a felon but he was a doctor…he was the best thing to ever happen to this Asylum. He was the only thing to ever happen to the world. He was the reason that the world happened in the first place, but this… inexperienced….ignorant man would never understand that.
Dr. Crane’s eyes shifted downward at the metal door when his toxin was mentioned, but his body remained in its same posture, yearning for its freedom at the door. Everyone had just recently found out about his toxin from the various witness accounts and the patients that he had used it on, though none of them would testify against him in court. Dr. Crane doubted any of the patients that had been tested on would even be coherent at this point, his work was in its early stages and some tests hadn’t gone as well as expected….But this was nothing that he was going to let any of them know. They wouldn’t understand the meaning behind his work regardless.
It was only natural to fear what you didn’t understand, and these doctors….these men didn’t understand anything. They were fearful because they had no other choice but to be fearful, it was the only emotion that governed their entire lives. The doctors of the asylum had their own speculations on his past and he had heard some of them. Most of them were false speculation as he had never told any of them. The farthest that any of them could have gone back was when he first came to Gotham and that would have been at his first high school here. Even then there was no trace to him and the murders of Bo and Sherri Griggs but if someone looked hard enough they might be able to put the pieces together. Dr. Crane doubted any of them had the capability to deduce such a thing.
It was common that they would think him to be a mere sociopath but he didn’t think himself to be anything of the sort. Dr. Crane was completely sane through his own eyes, nothing in the world could have been clearer to him than what was going on around him. Insanity was a word that society made up to cover its fears of that of the unknown. The mind that dared to think outside of their box and rules that they had collected, suddenly had a problem or was a defective sample in their testing tray for humanity. It was all in perception.
His shoulder pulled slightly at the remark. Who did he think he was? This doctor was nothing more than an amateur trying to get his 15 minutes of fame from the ‘criminal’ that had faced the new and mysterious ‘Batman’. He had no toxin on him. “If I had it you would already know.” The monotone voice of Dr. Crane finally lifted from the door. Was it meant to be a threat? He would let the other decide. The comment that followed about spiders was typical. Spiders were a common fear and were easily used, but a very misunderstood creature. He had always enjoyed the lure of a being such as a spider. Dr. Strange was turning out to be nothing to him; he hadn’t impressed him in the slightest. This was to be his doctor? This man? He was nothing and he was severely mistaken about his identity…
For Dr. Crane knew he was no mere man….He was a God.
The sudden touch to his shoulder made his eyes widen and his body stiffen. He twitched and finally turned around to face the man that had given him, unwarranted and unwanted touch. His glacial eyes met and locked with the bald man that thought he owned him. “If you want to know the truth you will have to do far better than that, but even if I told you it, it would fall upon deaf ears. I am what’s real….Not what society wants to be normal….I fear nothing…and no one…The Batman is just a man…and nothing more”
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Last Edit: Nov 9, 2012 3:02:05 GMT -5 by hatter
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Post by hatter on Nov 9, 2012 2:57:41 GMT -5
"No, Crane. I.. am the Batman." Strange triumphantly proclaimed.
Strange's eyes bored deep into Crane's from behind their shiny glasses, as if he was looking into the fearful depths of Jonathan's very soul. He didn't break the gaze, because it was working, Crane had spoken something other than nonsense, Crane had made meaningful speech. Hugo would gain the attention of this man, and he would turn it into new well-being.
He was slightly bothered by the fact that Crane had none of his toxin, but didn't take it as a bad thing either. He continued to speak to Dr. Jonathan Crane, now going into detail on what he believed. This man was still furthering Strange's beliefs that he was stuck in a pit of grandiosity. What if, perhaps, could it be? Strange wondered if this man could be an anarchist, since he stated he was going outside the guidelines of society willingly and understood that he was. But still he couldn't hide the fact that he was simply acting out, and because of this was capable of stepping onto the right path, even if he had to be helped to it. People are not inherently self sufficient, because of this sometimes goals can't be accomplished unless these people work to accomplish them, or just get lucky enough to find someone willing to provide for them, to help them succeed the way they should succeed. Therefore there were times people like this Crane had to rely on others to guide them onto the right path. Crane needed help. He might not know it, or understand it, but his path was the wrong one, and it needed to change.
"He, us, for the Batman is more than just a man, has put you in here, just so that it could be made sure you will not escape, so that you can be helped. Batman has no judgement brought down upon him, he is impossible to defeat, and you will not escape him, even if you tried."
Strange was wondering if Crane could see the ridiculous, or if he had glazed over so much he was incapable of it. He expected this man to meet anything designed to help with him with as much resistance as possible. Therefore Professor Hugo Strange would have to make sure he understood the plans he was about to speak of, and would not just be put off by this reluctance. If you let doubt cross over into your mind then this doubt can destroy confidence that may help provide you the will to succeed.
"Tell me: do you believe that you are your own master? Do you believe that you are not abiding by this society's guidelines with your disregard of them? You acted out. Arkham has taken you in. Dedicate yourself to getting on the right track. Stop pretending that you're more than what you are, Doctor. If one has an obstacle that seemingly is immovable, you can never give up how hard it gets and how much you think you're going to fail. I believe you can help yourself escape from what your mind has brought upon you, I believe you can go back to a rational existence, and I need you to believe, Crane."
To achieve victory over a mental obstacle, it helps to understand what it is and what you're facing, and how to counter it all. Crane needed to know what it was that was keeping him locked up in there, keeping his full potential from escaping so that he could be a well behaved citizen. Gotham didn't need criminals, it needed citizens who kept up their good behavior and did what was right.
"Do you understand? Do you see? No matter what you think, you are part of this society, you are not any more important or outside of its control than anyone else."
Strange had to find out how to make this man realize how things could be if he simply changed his act and went back to a normal, well mannered life, just like he had before.
"Still, you speak of some truth. What is this truth?"
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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 Nov 17, 2012 9:13:34 GMT -5
I am the Batman, I am the Batman, I am the Batman, I am the Batman. The word’s rang through Dr. Cranes mind and almost made him want to pull his hair out, but his outside demeanor remained lifelessly calm. Inside his mind there was a painful reminder of how he had fallen to this majestic beast of the dark that had come from nowhere to ‘save the day’. Dr. Strange’s words were an insult; Dr. Crane had been the first to fight this ‘Batman’ from out from the depths of wherever he crawled out from.
Dr. Crane was never a fan of watching television unless he had to. There was a small screen in the break room that he often glanced at when it was his lunch hour, he’d never use his lunch hour to eat after all. The media had jumped around on this new creature, whether he was human, good or evil, real or fake, and especially who he was in general. None of these question’s intrigued the doctor, Batman had little to no significance until the day he decided to interfere with his work. That had been where things turned bad to worse.
But Batman hadn’t been the one to put him behind bars, and even Dr. Strange knew this as he carried on. The began talking about Batman on a long collective scale that he was no just some man but every man that was able to put Dr. Crane into the institution. It’s unfortunate he thought that way, no man possess such heroism, there would only be running from their fears and that is exactly what they had all done that day….What Dr. Arkham had done that day when the police came to arrest him. His trials were no better, as at most times he felt like a pig brought to the slaughter as the families of his ‘so called victims without bodies’ screamed profanities at him in the court room. No, if it were truly the collective society that put him in here to inact some sort of justice he would be in blackgate on death row. There was only one man that put him here…
And it was not Batman.
As he continued to talk Dr. Crane interest became slightly warped and twisted. Did this man really believe that he was going to be able to be his doctor? The real questions began to pour out of his mouth one by one, like he was trying to get some kind of session started with him. He simply stared at him in silence until the balding man was done talking. A long pause of an awkward eerie silence filled the air when Dr. Crane because lost in his thoughts, but never turned his eyes from Strange’s. The glacial blue, the cold snap of his eyes was enough to make most men believe that they were staring into oblivion itself through his eyes….and they weren’t far from the truth.
Finally, after the oxygen had cleared out of the room and the anxiety tension began to crawl in between the two Dr. Crane spoke. “I am not going to ask you how many times I am going to need to repeat myself…But since you insist upon this I will teach you again. I am fear….I am a god. I am little need to pretend to be these things when the proof is all around you, it’s at every turn.” The lifeless expression of Dr. Crane finally started to change; a sinister smile could almost be seen.
Did he really take him for such a fool? There were 13 people missing, no bodies were found. Dr. Crane was caught in his office with blood all over his, a very condemning position when the police decided to raid with a warrant. Just the tension in the court room alone was enough to tell him that these people would have rather he never saw the light of day again, and through Dr. Arkham’s….beautiful….statement….the judge was convinced to put him back into the whole that he worked from. Dr. Crane took the liberty to close any comfortable space between them. If he wanted the truth behind it all….He could give it to him. “I am the reason why society exists… “
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Last Edit: Jan 7, 2013 6:12:41 GMT -5 by hatter
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Post by hatter on Jan 7, 2013 6:09:17 GMT -5
Strange kept his unflinching gaze on Crane. He noticed a slight malignancy in the man's face that he hadn't noted before, as if he was evil, or whatever that could be called. It was enough to know that this man was either enjoying what he was saying, or he actually believed it and found its words to have some sort of effect on him as he spoke them. Strange could make no mistake of what he say in Crane, and it wasn't good. Quite the opposite, and that was something to remember.
"Crane. If you were God then why would you have created your own prison? Why would you have created me for the sole purpose of talking to you in this room we are in?"
Did Crane really believe what he said, about being God and the reason why society exists? That was hard to see, this ex-doctor having went on to become like this. Strange hadn't really known him back when he was a doctor to have seen if he displayed signs of eccentricity or the like, so he'd nothing to work from except the reports and his current behavior. There wasn't a way in which someone that just believed this stuff he was saying could have ever gotten a job here unless it was that easy to do so. And it wasn't that easy. Strange wasn't accustomed to the idea that order could be worked into by people like these, it wasn't something he liked to think about. Order was supposed to be infallible, unbreakable, and create examples for people to follow in turn, after it had made its mark.
"If you are the reason that society exists then you are the reason you are locked up in here. Logic that is half true but otherwise entirely false. Yes, you are the reason that you are locked up in here, and it is good that you have come to understand that," Hugo began to explain in a stern, unrelenting tone.
He was not bothered by Jonathan's close proximity in the slightest, since the patient would certainly not be of the sort to try anything ridiculous, and even if he was he wouldn't be able to be of any trouble to Strange. Strange was a good deal older than him, but he outweighed him and also had trained for a long time in martial arts and those studies, so he didn't expect to have a problem with a spindly albeit clearly smart and ironically... scary fellow. Crane could be frightening in the right situation with the right people, it was certain. But he'd never be to Strange, the Professor wouldn't allow something like that. Fear was not something Strange concerned himself with.
"But why would you want people like us to exist, people that are determined to help you? I believe that by deduction you are saying that deep down inside you, you want to be saved by us and you're trying your best to hold the darkness back, though you have succumbed to it so far."
Strange was aware that because of the somewhat youngish thought process that this man was likely to hold for his authority, Crane probably mocked his words on some inward level. Still that was better if he had that depth than if he really thought like how he acted. Strange didn't believe that he did, he had the idea that this was simply a put on effort at being crazy. The vague idea. However he shouldn't goad him on with his somewhat hard to understand statements such as the Batman one, so he simply dropped all of that. He would not get down to the level of his patients, especially one like this.
"We're, meaning I myself, and the facility at large, we're working for your best interest. These ideas you have, they're not going to help you get where you could be."
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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 Jan 9, 2013 9:54:40 GMT -5
Repress and restrain. His thoughts kept running over the same two words as the man continued to press buttons to flare his anger. He needed to become lifeless to these things. Nothing was going to bother him, nothing was going to get him on edge. There was only one name that would be able to bring him to such blind fury….and he didn’t think he could control that as easily as everything else. Just thinking about his made his skin hot and his blood boil from within. It was a deep hatred that overtakes ones soul and pours out of them in a blind blackout. The assailant wakes up two days later next to a mound and a shovel with blood on his hands. He knew he was at that point with him and right now he couldn’t afford to let that happen having nearly escaped death row.
His sudden hostility that he had taken with the man dropped as he began to speak again. It was clear that he thought he knew what fear was, but he couldn’t have been further from the truth. “You have no idea what fear is…” Was his simple remark to his God complex. Dr. Crane knew what he was and he was the creator of all things, that didn’t mean he dictated what a man chooses to do with his fears, only that he is the means to make the choice, the choice is finalized because of him, and started with him. He was truly the Alpha and the Omega. But why would he need to explain this to this amateur. To give him more fuel for his ‘Treatment?’
Dr. Crane had learned from an early age who he was. His eyes became distant in front of the doctors again as his mind rolled over his passage through the sewers into Gotham. A terrible journey, but incredibly enlightening to who he really was and the importance that would come later. He was just a boy then, but now he had everything at his disposal to start researching it all into more depth, to give the world the truth. He had already tried on multiple occasions, getting turned down board by board. The Asylum was the only place that he was free to practice. The thought caused his nail to dip underneath the other and scrape as if he was trying to get something out. Dried blood underneath his hands? Surely they had power hosed him enough since then.
But his eyes had jumped back into life once more, a dilation jumping into his pupils like he had come back to Earth at his next statement. It had been turned around on him to make him seem like he was still the one in power. Like he was teaching him something. The doctor didn’t respond to him this time, having no reason to jump into a debate over who was the one needing help in the room. Why did Dr. Arkham send him this man? He wanted to turn his gaze to the camera just to see if he could look into it and see him behind it somehow. Make him know that he had known what he has done.
“Your ignorance to the truth is not my problem. A human life is a research subject; there is no point in wasting it only preserving it for further study. The human mind is a fascinating thing. What fear drives you to do doctor is what’s important…Not what you choose to do with the fear that comes. Fear….Will always come…” His voice began to break unstably by the end. Was it a threat? He would let him make that conclusion on his own. If there was one truth to be held in this room between both of them it was that this facility never had his best interest in mind. Dr. Crane didn’t care who he thought he was or how he tried to assert himself around him, he wouldn’t back down to it and he wouldn’t cower. Only show him through the cold iris that he held that this was a battle that he was going to lose.
“Where I could be…” He repeated softly and took a step back from him. A slight roll of his shoulder came and he took a deep breath, like it was the first that came since he had been arrested. “You can put me behind bars…Death row…or this padded cell and you can talk to me about my rehabilitation and all that could have been.” His hand lifted slightly as if he was speaking to more than just them two in the room like it was a dramatic statement to all. “You could tell me that I could live “Happily” here for the rest of my days if I would listen to your pathetic attempts to…Correct…my mind……Doctor…Strange…But the truth is that you cannot control fear” His voice lowered to a whisper along with the incline of his arm.
“I am free.”
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