A Cure For a Boring Day [Scarecrow]

[Heather Glass - VerMillion]

Heather glances at the clock: 8:54. Six minutes to go. She finds herself mulling over the story that she picked for this evening as the clock ticks down. Has it really been so long since the FBI left the city? It doesn't seem to her like that much time has past, but then again her life has settled into such a routine again that days slip by into a month so easily. And life goes on.

Much more easily than it used to. After the FBI left and all the restrictive rules were repealed, everyone went back to work. Some businesses that had to close reopened. Others didn't, but most of those are being snagged by opportunists. So in some ways it's like the FBI were never here, and in others it's forever different.

Heather's life has changed more due to the Scarecrow's attack than the coming and going of the FBI. But not much has changed since she moved in with Kayla and restarted her life after all of that, aside from the fact that every day her lingering anxiety seems to get that much better. She still drives a bit too carefully, startles easily, and has a hard time thinking or talking about the incident. But she can sleep at night and with the light off. Not under the covers and with a bright nightlight, but still: progress.

One of the things that has helped is her radio show. For one hour everyday she can set aside her stress and be an obnoxious radio host with a strong opinion about everything instead of the cool but quiet Heather Glass. And as the last few minutes pass she finds herself getting into 'VerMillion mode'.

"Hellooo Gotham! It's nine in the PM, you're listening to WGGZ, and that means that it's time for News and Views. I'm your host, VerMillion.

"It's been a bit of a slow news day, but as always I managed to find something worth talking about. According to a report provided this morning, the last patient in any of the city's hospitals with a severe case of Ivy's Plague was released today, marking a transition point in the battle to eliminate the disease entirely. They also announced that, thanks to the success of the vaccination and treatment programs, more cases are now found outside of Gotham than within, are caught at the first sign of symptoms, and they expect full success in another two months. If you'd like to share your View on this News, call 958-867-5309.

"My View is that this News finally gives me one small hint of hope that the government might actually be able to do something right - perhaps because the CDC has nothing to do with law enforcement. Of course, because Poison Ivy had the foresight to make her threat with a plague that has obvious symptoms for a month before it kills, it would be pretty pathetic if they managed to screw this one up. Still, kudos to the entire health-care system, clunky as it is. You have managed to succeed in spite of the complete failure of the FBI, the GCPD, and Batman to stop this from happening in the first place."

She glances over at the phone, and to her relief the little flashing light indicates a caller. Calls are often a bit sluggish on days when nothing particularly exciting has happened, but she hoped that this particular story would prompt people to call with their griping about the FBI or the plague. You can kill a lot of time if someone decides to call up and explain their personal story and views on that sort of thing. Not the most interesting way to do her show, but it saves her from having to ramble on by herself.

"But enough of my thoughts, let's get to our first caller! Who are you and what is your View?"

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

The lights of the city passed through the windows of the car that Dr. Crane sat in. The glare passed through his eyes over and over as they went block to block headed to their destination. His driver was hired help, someone disposable but easily bribed with money. There was an eerie silence in the car as the doctor sat and thought about the night that was about to unfold.

Tonight was going to be beautiful. He checked inside his suit pockets making sure he had what he needed. The straps near the top held three syringes, two with a neon yellow substance and one with a darker more tainted looking liquid. Most importantly he made sure he had his rigged dart gun tucked carefully in the rim of his pants. It wasn't a normal dart gun, the barrel was far larger. From there his hand slipped into his suit pocket making sure that the brown baggy full of powder was still there. On the other side were a few tubes that looked like they were for the strange gun he carried.

His gaze turned to the mask laying on the seat beside him. Dr. Crane hands slowly crept up to it until he heard that familiar voice on the radio. With a quick movement he leaned forward ignoring the driver and turned up the dial to hear what she was saying.

They were arriving that their destination. It seemed like just in time too. The care came to a stop outside of the radio station and the thug for hire excited the care proceeding to grab something out of the trunk. Dr. Crane listened to her speak for a moment longer but then grabbed his mask and exited the vehicle after hearing the dial in number.

Stepping out into the cold Gotham air he clicked the voice distortion to its on position on his mask and slipped it over his head. Together the walked down the alley besides the building and looked for a back door. The first objective was to find the security office which would have most likely been on the first floor. Possibly monitored by maybe one or two guards at most.

The Scarecrow waited as the thug pried the back door open with a crowbar and then backed away from the door. He didn't need him for anything more now than to wait in the car. The Scarecrow went in alone. He knew that Heather was probably still giving her explanation of her views on the show but there wasn't much time before the calls would start pouring in.

He stayed close to the walls so he wouldn't cause too much movement on the security cameras. A signing pointing to the security offices caught his eye and he headed in that direction. The Scarecrows needled hand slide along the side of the wall leaning his head in carefully inspecting the room. There was a lone security officer who's gaze was locked permanently on a screen that ran some rerun of an old sit-com. The Nightmare stepped slowly into the room savoring each step before he towered over the unsuspecting security officer.

His needled glove went into his neck in one swift movement followed by it's removal and The Scarecrows other arm wrapping around his neck. The Large man stood up and protested to the motion. Because of the mans size it was difficult to hold him and choke him out. They struggled in the room for a few moments before the security office threw his back against the wall near them. The pain surged up his back from the impact but he held his grip around the large mans throat.

Suddenly the body in his arms became limp and he let go of him watching him drop to the floor. His attention was quickly grabbed by a tall slender security officer that entered the doorway. Just standing there stunned for a moment the officers mind tried to figure out what to do next. The Scarecrow took advantage of that beautiful moment and stepped forward raising his brace. The officer went to pull a gun from his holster but it was too late. The button was pressed and toxin went into his face.

If it wasn't for his current lack of time he would have savored each change in the mans emotions. Instead he let him drop to the floor and grab his arms and head muttering to himself about what was trying to take him away. The Scarecrow smiled turning to the security cameras finally to find who he was here for.

She was sitting there in her booth talking into her mic. The world stood still for a moment as he rose his gloved needled hand to the screen and scraped it slowly across where she sat. She was the perfect beginning.

Focusing back on what he needed to do The Scarecrow left the room and headed to the elevators. Arriving at the correct floor he exited and looked down the halls. He followed a few signs that he had recognized from the cameras and finally came to a series of rooms one of which had a lit On Air sign above it. Knowing he was in the right place he ducked into an office beside it. He looked around inside noting the desk at the back of the room that held much unfinished paperwork, a coffee mug, and a cord phone.

With a click and a twist the brace and needled glove on his right arm and hand came off. He didn't need them for this. Carefully they were placed on the messy desk and his now bare hands traced the end of the table...sliding to the phone. The Scarecrow took his left hand and lifted off his mask placing it with his other things on the desk. The phone was brought to his ear and he began to dial the number 958-867-5309.

At first he was put on hold. Dr. Crane thought in the darkness of the room to himself about what had just began. The events of tonight would change his research forever. An old subject of study but a new method. Was it something more than that? His eyes turned from the desk and to the wall that he knew she was sitting just behind. The doctor let his body lean against it, and then he heard her voice.

The voice wasn't the same as the fragile terrified young ladies that he had met prior. There was a confidence in her voice that fascinated him. She asked for his name but he withheld it and began to speak. “There is no question that Gotham 'finest' doctors had pulled through on this one and saved lives. That is..after all what they do best is it not?” The Doctors voice remained professional. “My view is that if Poison Ivy really wanted to bring death to Gotham there would be hundreds more dead than there are..” Dr. Cranes voice began to change and become slower and darker. He rose his free hand and placed it against the wall beside him letting his face lean into it as he spoke. “It's about the statement that is left...the act was meant to leave a statement....Every action has a reason behind it. The reason that Ivy brought the plague to Gotham, The reason that the FBI came and left, the same reason that The Batman hides in the shadows...The real question Gotham needs to ask themselves is now that the vaccine is being administered and the FBI has left is....”His hand began to slowly slide down the wall. “Are you Scared?” He asked her almost in a whisper.

Many things could happen from this point. He had taken most of them into account but he was a better on the spot planner. In Gotham anything was possible they may take the call as a prank caller, someone trying to mimic The Scarecrow to scare Miss Glass. They certainly wouldn't know that he was right next to her. He was so close to her. Dr. Crane couldn't help but wonder what she would do next, would she freeze up? Would she remain with her confidence on the air and continue on speaking to him? Would her nightmares come crawling forth from the back of her mind?

[Heather Glass - VerMillion]

Indeed, VerMillion looks quite confident and relaxed as she sits in her booth. In fact, as she further settles herself into her work she leans back in her chair and rests her heels on the corner of the desk, careful not to bump any of the instrumentation in front of her. She doesn't really use any of it - that sort of thing is more for the people who like to put all sorts of crazy sound effects, audio clips, and other crap into their shows. The guys who do the morning news show while people are headed to work, especially. Her show is too 'serious' for that. Instead all she has is a small laptop in case the conversation with one of her callers makes her want to look something up on the internet, though at the moment it's merely open to the press release she's reporting on.

She doesn't immediately note anything unusual about the voice on the other end of the line, which is to be expected given the number of calls she receives and the fact that everyone always sounds slightly different over the phone. She's paying far more attention to the words, always ready to interject with her own comments. Which she does at his comment about Poison Ivy. "I think you're being more than a little conservative with the word 'hundreds'," she says. She's no scientist, but every report she's seen about the disease has indicated that the little video the woman put out - which she of course watched herself and talked about on her show once it reached her attention - was completely accurate in all it's details. And the woman said that billions could die from it if they didn't meet her terms. And VerMillion is inclined to believe it.

But she listens to the rest of the man's ramblings in a somewhat bored silence, waiting for him to get to whatever all-encompassing point he seems to have. However, when he does, she immediately takes notice. Her whole body suddenly goes still for a moment as her mind scrambles around like a warren of spooked rabbits. In fact, she commits the near-unpardonable sin of radio: there's a long silence. Of course the thought comes to her that someone could be playing a prank, but that's actually quite unlikely. She never breathed a word about the attack on the air, and though her involvement made the papers she'd requested that they refrained from commenting on her day job. For her own sanity and privacy she prefers to keep her radio name and her real name pretty separate, even though it isn't exactly a secret. Most people don't know.

And most of the people who do know it are friends and family, who all know well enough about just how scarred she is from that to not play such a prank on her. Then again, an obsessed enough fan could probably find out with the right internet searches. Or by the contents of her purse. However, now that's she focused on the voice, she realizes that she recognizes it. That voice has haunted her for quite some time now, even though more often it's his voice through that distorter thing. And given that she hardly missed hearing about his escape from Arkham a couple of weeks ago, she'd actually guess that it's more likely the real thing than a prank.

However, she has no idea just how close the man is, and hearing the voice through the phone gives the illusion of distance. And the conclusion that her mind comes to is that he's called in to grandstand, with a side of knowing that he's messing with her a bit. He wouldn't be the first rogue to have done so - her show's mocking stance on Batman and the fact that she often reports on their activities seems to attract them. In fact, more have done so than she even knows about because sometimes people lie about who they are. But though she's admitted to being frightened of the rogues, more often than not she hasn't felt personally threatened when they've called in - they seem to either not care about her at all or even appreciate the fact that she allows them the chance to rant in such a public forum. Then again, this is the Scarecrow she has on the phone...

But an important factor here, is that at the moment she's in the mode of being VerMillion, increasingly popular radio personality, and not Heather. The long silence is unacceptable and pulls her out of her frozen state. "Maybe," she says, her tone remarkably calm and even a little energetic, though a bit less so than a moment ago. She takes her legs off the corner of the desk and sits up straight in her chair. The relaxed feeling is gone, but not all of the confidence. Perhaps if she knew how close he was, that would go too, but for now she hopes her conclusion about his reasons for calling are correct. Because if she's wrong... don't want to think about that. "Or maybe that's simply the lens through which you see everything, Dr. Crane," she adds mildly. In fact, her tone is more polite than anything. "And aren't you the expert on fear?" she asks rhetorically, "Perhaps I should ask you if I'm scared."

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

He knew most of the details behind Ivy's attack on Gotham now. But he wouldn't go so far as to give her that much credit. Why would he? There previous encounters had been less than friendly, though he never was good at making friends. The tension between himself and Ivy was always there, and he was on his last strike with her.

Then the silence came from the other end of the phone. It carried into the darkness of the room around him that seemed to wrap him in an embrace. His fingers played along the wall that he leaned on picking them up and dragging them down it once again. It seemed as if he could almost feel the fear emitting from her silence. The kept the phone to his ear savoring every moment that went by.

Dr. Crane couldn't help but smile when she began to speak again. This was a side of her that he hadn't seen yet, but fully intends to personally. She was no longer the timid, fragile Heather Glass but someone new entirely. Did she feel safe in her booth? Behind the glass in front of whatever radio assistant was with her. Did the walls between them make her feel invincible? Of course they did...Because she didn't know that he was in the next room.

A soft laughter came into the phone as she spoke of a lens that he sees the world through. It was the world that saw through the lens. He knew the truth. It was a truth that no one seemed to understand but himself. Dr. Crane doubted anyone was smart enough to come to the realization as he had. No, they would continue to live out their lives everyday believing in some misplaced hope. Some false satisfaction in a life that they believe was driven by love or the pursuit of happiness. When all they were doing was living their lives...in fear...

“A very interesting question Miss Glass...The distance between you and I makes you feel safe, the safety of the life that surrounds you. The security that watches you carefully. There shouldn't be any reason for you to be afraid...” He paused for a moment. “Perhaps... we should ask your friend if he is scared?” With that he hung up the phone and let the dial tone ring in her ear.

Quickly he placed the mask back over his head and clicked his glove back into place. The Scarecrow moved to the door and left the darkness staying along the walls until he reached the on air sign. He opened the door slowly and lowered himself to the ground. He crept behind the equipment and saw her assistant sitting in his chair trying to figure out what had just happened. He moved in behind him careful not to come above the glass staying out of Heather's sight. Suddenly he stabbed the man in front of him from the back with his needled glove injecting him with a lethal dose.

After experiencing the shocking pain to his back the man struggled in his chair before slipping off to the ground beginning to mumble and shout madness. The Scarecrow lifted himself from the cover of the machinery, now standing in front of the glass in the mans place and looked down at him. He probably wouldn't recover. His attention turned to something more important. Miss Glass...No...This VerMillion...

He wanted to savor the moment, looking into her eyes for any amount of fear. He had seen it in her all too well before. With and without the use of toxin, her reactions her beautiful. This time, it would be different. The Scarecrow began to move from his position to the small doorway that separated them, advancing towards her. Carefully he reached into his jacket to remove the dart gun that was tucked tightly there. "Nothing to fear..." The distortion from the mask cracked out as he waited for her to make her move.

[Heather Glass - VerMillion]

VerMillion is able to shrug off his laugh with only a little difficulty, but when he starts to point out just why she feels safe where she is... okay, that's a bit creepy. Though more of her is irritated that he mentioned her other name over the radio. But before she can really stop to think about what he said, the sound of the phone hanging up triggers her automatic impulse to keep the airwaves from going silent again. "Well, I think that it's about time to go to commercials - we'll be right back," she says with a calmness that she doesn't quite feel anymore as she takes herself off the air for a moment. It's a bit early for a commercial break, but her head is swimming too much to continue and that will give her a few minutes.

She frowns as she realizes what he just said. He could just be trying to freak her out one more time, right? But the last thing he said seems too specific: asking her friend if he is scared? What exactly is going on here? One of her friends is in trouble? Unfortunately, it doesn't immediately occur to her that he's talking about Freddy - he's definitely more just a coworker than a friend. Still, she exchanges a puzzled glance with him and shakes her head to indicate that she's not sure either. She then shifts her attention to trying to decide if she should either try to resettle herself or panic.

But only a few moments later it becomes obvious that the latter is the correct choice when she sees Freddy suddenly struggling out of the corner of her eye before falling to the ground. But though she didn't see why that happened, she doesn't have to wait for the Scarecrow to show himself before she abruptly takes the station back off of commercials and informs her audience, "We're being attacked by the Scarecrow!" And her voice so easily betrays her rapidly rising panic.

So suddenly finding out that this man is so very near is almost overwhelming to her, yet he's caught her in a different situation this time; a slightly better one for her. When he shows himself she jumps out of her chair, but she instinctively grabs a pair of scissors that were set off to the side. Could she possibly defend herself from him? She has no idea, but if she has any small hope of doing it she'll try. However, her next instinct is to flee, and her eyes shift to the door. But there's only one door out of the booth and he's headed for it... How has she managed to get cornered by him again? It's different this time, though, being armed. Rather than cowering in the corner, she puts her back to the furthest wall from him.

"Leave me alone!" she says loudly, knowing that in the back of her mind she has to project to be heard behind the mostly soundproof glass, but it's much more of a plea than a threat. Even armed she knows how far the odds are stacked against her. What does he want with her this time? Her life? Her sanity? Hasn't he done enough to her already? What carries more hope to her is the fact that every person who listens to her show knows that she's in trouble - perhaps it's possible that one of them can do something. And since she left herself on the air this time, it doesn't feel like she's quite so alone since she knows that so many people can hear what's going on.

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

Being on the air was going to make this all the sweeter. He hadn't originally intended for it to be live but plans do change. One of the many possibilities was that he would have less time than he wanted without the authorities arriving. Any number of her calls could be reporting to the police that the station was under attack. If so then they would arrive soon, an it would be more difficult for them to escape. Heather was coming with him one way or another, of this he was certain.

Kidnapping twice was certainly outside of The Scarecrows MO. To the GCPD, to the vigilantes, and even to the villains of Gotham this would have seemed strange. He had not worked with others for very long, those he had ever made an alliance with it was broken shortly after. Usually because of something he did not what they did. How could he resist not knowing his fellow partners in crime's fears? Know your enemies... In other words he was never good at making friends. So why was he here in front of Heather?

The Scarecrow wondered just how many were listening to the events coming to pass over the radio. How many civilians, villains, vigilantes. Just how popular was her show? He had certainly been listened, but for his own reasons.

She had made a stunning recovery from their last meeting. Most people would have gone completely mad. Besides the bags under her eyes from a lack of sleep she looked perfectly fit. His posture changed as his eyes scanned her the scissors in her hand just proved that even after all he had done she still had fight in her. What was she fighting for? She didn't understand, of course she didn't...but she would.

If she wanted to make this harder than it had to be so be it. The Scarecrow rose his needled hand to beckon her keeping the distance between him. He was taunting her, almost begging her to attack him with the weapon she depended her life upon. The other hand still held the dart gun but he kept it at his side for now not pointing it at her.

Her shout made him tilt his head taking a step towards her. How he hoped she would rush him with those scissors. “Be careful what you wish for VerMillion....Fear might just leave you forever...” With that he lifted the dart gun and aimed it at her, pulling the trigger and firing for her midsection. Any place that had the most surface area would have made the shot easier, but it didn't really matter where it landed, it didn't even matter if it missed. He would just load another one if he did.

“Don't take me for some thug that has come to torture or plague you with my presence. Don't take me for some maniac on the street ready to prey upon the feelings of a harmless civilian. Don't think like them....Don't give into societies monotonous blind demeanor of what your suppose to be and how you should live. I am not the one that has put fear into you heart...They have...” His paused for a moment his needled hand moving in motion to the equipment beside them. “They are the reason you live your life in fear each day....and who cares for you? The walls you put around yourself? This box you hide in, has fear saved you VerMillion? Has fear saved any of them from their lives? No....it hasn't...The only one that has given you no reason to fear....is The Scarecrow. I'm the only one who has taken your fears from you and given you no reason to fear anymore”

He realized he had said a lot to her in a short amount of time. But time was something that was not on his side. If this was going to turn into a fight he would have to subdue her quickly before the authorities arrived. No one on listening would have understood what he was saying, but something told him that Heather would find the truth...

[Heather Glass - VerMillion]

If anything, the Scarecrow's gesture makes her retreat an inch more, even though she's already at the back of the room. She doesn't really want to attack him, she wants to run away. It's just that she doesn't have that option at the moment. Her eyes don't leave leave him, watching him for the slightest sign of anything that might allow her to escape from this nightmare.

Instead she sees a dart gun suddenly pointed at her. She immediately tries to dodge it, but her reflexes just aren't up to it and in the limited space of the room there's only so many directions she could go. Like shooting fish in a barrel. She screams in pain but also fright when she feels something hit her stomach, and her reflexive action is to pull the dart out, even though it's a bit late for that. What is he doing to her now? Tranquilizer? More fear toxin? Why can't he just leave her alone?

Yeah, why can't he just leave her alone? It's really a very crappy way to treat a person, kidnapping them from their apartment and attacking them at work. She glares at him, no longer worried about whatever was in the dart. But it hurt though. Where does he get off just hurting her like that?

Her glare doesn't ease as he talks, and when he's finally finished, she scoffs, "I'm not afraid of them, and all you've ever done for me is treat me like shit!" She then remembers the scissors still clutched in her hand. Why does she have those? But instead of putting them down she readjusts her grip. She's tired of being unable to run away from this guy. She's not even sure why she was doing that in the first place. No, what she wants is to gouge out his eyes and kick him until he stops squirming. That's what she wants.

And, seeing no reason not to do so, her expression grows cold and determined and she walks to the door out of the booth, saying simply, "I told you to leave me alone!"

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

Seeing the dart hit it's mark he slipped the dart gun back into his pants as continued to panic on the floor. He knew it was only a matter of time before the Brave Toxin started to take effect. It removed the ability for the brain to process fear, it just simply ignored the ignition of it. It was one of his greater works, and he was quite proud of it.

As she began to speak he couldn't help but smile. The toxin was having a quicker effect than he expected. What brave words suddenly coming out of the small frame that once cowered before him. “Of course your not...” The distortion from the mask cracked out towards her. She really had no idea what he had given her. Even if she did know there would be no way for her to reverse the effect without the antidote, or it wearing by itself.

The Scarecrow smiled widely as she advanced towards him. In their previous encounters he had not gotten to show off his psychical ability too much but, as many villains and vigilante's of Gotham already knew...He was very dangerous in a close psychical fight. She was just a raido show host, he didn't have any desire to kill her or injure her coming out of this. But he wasn't going to let her stab him with scissors.

Her reaction was perfect waiting for her to swipe at him or attempt to stab him with what she had in her hand. He didn't move from his position between her and her freedom. “How could I leave you like this?...You can never go back to a normal life, they will cast you out.” he began to explain to her. There was truth in his words. Did she really think she could go back to a normal life, especially after this? She would be alone, she would suddenly be forced into a world where she was a target for a high profile criminal. They wouldn't let her go back to her job..How could they?

“The only way out is with me...” He laughed through the mask taunting her. It had a double meaning, she would either be leaving with him or attempting to go through him. To what life would she be returning to? He spread his feet some loosening himself for the actions that may need to be taken against her. It wouldn't be long before the place was flooded with police officers. But it would be them that would be left with something to fear...

[Heather Glass - VerMillion]

Perhaps if VerMillion was currently capable of feeling that emotion, what the Scarecrow says now would make her somewhat worried. However, as worry is simply fear that something bad will happen, his words don't matter to her at all. They may be true, they may not, but what's much more important to her right now is that she's angry at the Scarecrow for doing all this crap to her and she wants to give him what he deserves.

So she doesn't even bother to respond as she simply walks over to him and lunges at him with the scissors. There isn't the slightest hint of hesitation in her movements, even though she knows that he's dangerous. How dangerous he is just doesn't matter, at least not unless she were to stop and think about that for a moment. And she's simply too angry to do any such thing right now. But though her movements come with the quickness of absolute fearlessness, it's not like being unable to fear makes her any faster, the reach of her arms any further, or her skills at fighting any better.

On the other hand, her intelligence is also unaltered. Rather than attacking without any sort of a plan, she feints to her left before going right, aiming the business end of the scissors at his left shoulder.

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

He exhaled slowly as she came towards him making the distorter crackle some. The Scarecrow was preparing himself, planning what movements he was going to do exactly to get the point across, and disarm her all in one motion. It had to be fluid, it had to be powerful, it had to be perfect. What he did from this point had to leave a statement with her.

All of his training wouldn't come to fail him here, especially not with her. It wasn't as if he had been trained in his art his whole life. It had started after Gotham University had fired him. That was when he really began to appreciate the Crane style, and even more so drunken boxing. He loved there art so much he blended them together. It began with study, which is where he would spend for some time, just practicing the actual movement, leaning what to do in certain situations. Leaning to control his muscles, to control his breathing. It had worked out perfectly after Arkham when he transferred into his criminal career. No criminal wanted to be caught dead out there without an ability to fight in one way or another.

He let her make her first move, not moving an inch as she moved from left to right. Everything he had taught himself told him to be patient, wait....wait for the strike. He was prepared for her to strike with the hand that held the scissors, of course she did. That meant she could only attack him in a certain amount of ways, he was prepared for any of them. She went for the shoulder, his left arm winded under hers as she made the motion twisting it into a ballet. He brought his right hand in to the butt of the scissors and disarmed her immediately.

It was all over in a matter of seconds as he turned their bodies together grabbing onto her wrist and arm. The Scarecrow threw them both into the wall and held her there against it. “You'll never win....You never could...Your only freedom is with me..” he spoke softly through the distortion of the mask. That was the point, this...was the point. She was doomed from the moment she fumbled for the door of her car. From there very moment he laid eyes on her she was destined to succumb to fear. Everyone did in the end after all...

[Heather Glass - VerMillion]

What happens next is a bit of a blur to VerMillion. His movements catch her by complete surprise, and it isn't until she hits the wall that she's really able to react. And that reaction is simply to say, "Ow!" She frowns to herself, suddenly lost in thought. How did that happen? Well, that's obvious - because Scarecrow's a far better fighter than her. Attempting to attack him was definitely not a smart move. But she knows all of that. So why did she do that if she knew that she'd lose? Because she didn't remember that he was that good at fighting. Why didn't she remember?

"Weird," she comments, half to herself and half to him, "What was in that dart? I'm being stupid, but I feel a lot better. Am I drunk?" Her tone is curious as she tries to sort this all out, but she can at least gather that it had something to do with that dart he shot her with. Of course the fact that she ought to be worried that he has her against the wall and is saying what he's saying completely escapes her. Though she does squirm against his hold a bit. Even though she's remembering that trying to fight him is not a good idea now, that doesn't mean that it feels particularly pleasant being held this way.

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

Within the darkness of the mask held a smile that held complete satisfaction. His work at it's finest right in front of him. He had used the toxin many times before, usually in an extremely controlled or extremely uncontrolled situation. Either way he usually wanted to have distance between that person and himself. VerMillion was special though, he didn't want any distance to be between them. Not right now.

“You're not drunk...You're realizing that it's better to come with me than be left to the mercy of the police. There is nothing left for you here...” He spoke sternly to her. The good part was she wasn't putting up much of a fight anymore. The small protests she had made to where he was holding her were easily handled. He was going to keep her right where she was.

“VerMillion....” He began through the distortion of the mask. His words played over the name, savoring it. She wouldn't have been able to hear it because of this distortion but he did it all the same. That is one of the many reasons why he kept the distortion in his mask, not just because it was scary, but to keep his enemies from thinking they knew something from the sound of his voice. The sound of the way one could say something, could determine many things.“I will let you move if you come with me” he almost threatened her with it. Not that she would be frightened, he wanted her to approach it logically, her strength was not going to allow her to be released without doing as he said. Afterward if she wanted to protest she would be left to the mercy of the GCPD who would ruin her. But he had already informed her of that. If anything leaving her life would be tempting at this point.

[Heather Glass - VerMillion]

VerMillion's frown deepens in annoyance at his words, "No, seriously, what was in it?" She's not realizing any such thing! If she's been attacked by the Scarecrow, especially if she's been drugged with something, doesn't that make her a victim here? Won't the police therefore be on her side? They'd have to be pretty awful to her to be worse than the Scarecrow has been, so clearly it would be better for to get to them. And she does have something here - her radio show. She loves doing that! Then again ever since he hit her with that dart he's said a lot of things that are either completely irrelevant or flat out wrong. It's really quite irritating.

His last statement, however, gets her attention. She really would like him to let go of her. But she does not really want to go with him. He isn't being very nice, and she has a lot of other things that she'd rather do. Then again, reflecting on just how much stronger and faster he is, if he wants her to go with him that badly she realizes that he could do so by force. And that's just the sort of jerk-faced thing that he'd do. She sighs in exasperation before saying, "Given the options, I'd rather walk than be dragged."

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

She was being difficult. Even if he had the time to explain what was in it she wouldn't understand. He could lay every ingredient out in front of her and she wouldn't grasp it. He could have laid out the correct formulas and equations for her and she still wouldn't know what it was.

Talking around and about fear always came easily for The Scarecrow, trying to convince a woman shot up with brave toxin to follow him now that was another story. He couldn't use fear or intimidation, he had to make her want something. Want something enough to take it, to take it from anyone. Her radio show was probably the only thing in her life that still made any sense to her.

“It's a toxin of mine, one meant to make you feel very good about yourself...” He paused and looked away from a moment towards the door. He didn't have time to explain it to her nor did he have any desire to say exactly what the chemical was on the air. “The police are on their way to take your raido show from you. Yes, there after me but nothing is left of your show here. They will never let you have it back. I can give you something more...Something without bounds of what society believes you must be restricted to on your show. Are you going to let them take it from you?” With that he let the pressure off of her wrists slowly but still kept them in his hands, moving away from the wall a bit.

If she wanted to walk out with him by all means. Though if she were to waste anymore time it wouldn't be walking...

[Heather Glass - VerMillion]

VerMillion's eyebrow lifts skeptically at the explanation, but she doesn't argue with it. Now why would Scarecrow have a toxin like that? But she's already asked him twice now and didn't give a satisfactory answer either time, so she's guessing asking a third time won't work either.

Besides, the rest of what he says easily distracts her from that thought. "Why would they take my show from me?" she asks with a frown, as that makes no sense at all to her. Like he said, they're after him. On the other hand, she's noted that she's not thinking normally right now so perhaps she's missed something. But just because she's not afraid of him doesn't mean that she's forgotten how much crap he's done to her, so she's not about to simply trust that he's right about anything. "And I've never had a problem with the broadcast regulations," she adds, if only to be defiant. Though that's actually true too. In spite of the hard edge persona she likes to portray on her show, her real self - her Heather self - is actually quite 'normal'. Not that VerMillion would admit that.

She doesn't move when he loosens his grip though. As tempting as it is to try and do something, even without fear guiding her decisions she knows better than to try obviously futile things. And like she said, she'd rather be able to walk freely. If he gives her an obviously solid opening to escape, on the other hand, that's another story. Not that she fears what would happen if she didn't, but there are things that she'd rather be doing right now than hang out with him.