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 Aug 17, 2012 20:27:43 GMT -5
One of the things that Dr. Crane avoided above most things was unconsciousness. He would hold onto it tightly and wouldn’t give it up without quite a fight. The exact reasons why were a mystery to most, including all the doctors at the asylum. He was sure that at least Dr. Arkham had his own theories tucked away somewhere but even he hadn’t figured it out. No one ever would, and he planned to keep it that way. For whatever undisclosed reason he avoided a few choice things, unconsciousness being one of them. The doctor avoided sleep at all costs even going to great lengths to prevent it. Sleep was just one of the bigger ones; Dr. Crane was also known to avoid the cold and mirrors like the plague. He could deal with the cold on occasion but he did show a dislike of it. These were only things that someone would catch if he was observed very carefully over long periods of time.
Darkness wrapped around him in the black hole he found himself in. Everywhere he looked there was nothingness. With no reason to walk he simply sat and let the darkness embrace him. His mind was out of balance it seemed as he couldn’t think straight or about one thing for too long. As soon as the thought came into his mind it was gone in an instant. What was this place inside his mind? It was all too comforting…..The feeling was welcoming; it reminded him of how he felt when he hid in a cabinet away from his grandmother. The safety of the dark cradled him in its arms, like he had always been right where he belonged right there. Something had its arms wrapped around him and held him tightly. It was the darkness that protected him.
A blinding lightly pierced through the darkness and came over his eyes and body. Dr. Crane lifted his head to shield his eyes. The light rushed toward him, his arm seemingly did nothing for protection. The light was managing to shine through everything, but he was blind, he couldn’t see anything! His body slid forward and he turned and gripped the floor. Suddenly he was drug backward into the blinding light, his nails digging into the nothingness below him.
Dr. Crane’s eyes opened slowly. A bright hot light was shined directly toward him, it was all he could see at the moment. A small, round, and bright light was just burning into his face. He knew it was burning, he must have been sweating, but he couldn’t feel it. Why couldn’t he feel it? This place…it was so familiar. His vision was blurry; it took a few long blinks before he felt anything at all. It started with a sharp pain at the front of his cranium. The pain was slow and ever building it seemed until it felt like it was pressing into the forefront of his skull. Had he been struck with something? His back began to hurt, His side started to burn, his arm pinched with pain. What had happened?
His heart was beating into his chest and gradually getting faster. Why was his heart rate so fast? Was he panicking? Where was he? How did he get here? This massive headache was only making the questions pile up and giving very little answers what so ever, but Dr. Crane was no stranger to pain. A ringing came into his ears that started out low but began to steadily become louder and louder. Like a bowling ball being dropped into the middle of a room his memory snapped back. It came back in blotches with each drop of the ball. He had been knocked out by The Penguin’s lackey. VerMillion? Where was VerMillion!? The Penguin! Dr. Crane tried to shoot upward but something stopped him from moving any more than his neck coming forward.
His head tossed back and forth not quite understanding what was going on at first. His gaze finally settled and the world became focused. His eyes shot to the doorway with a turned head and saw The Penguin, his dog, and a woman. The doctor began to pull rather heavily at his binds, but he knew these binds well. They were his own; he was in his own containment room. Getting out of these binds was not going to be easy. The scene was so surreal he could barely believe it himself, but the pain was a constant reminder that it was happening. Instead of wasting his time thrashing about and instead of wasting his breath by demanding to be released the doctor became very still and calmly spoke. “There is nothing for you here…”
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Post by Heather Glass - VerMillion on Aug 18, 2012 4:36:48 GMT -5
After being hit by the taser, it takes Heather a moment to recover her senses, but by then she finds some guy trying to pull her from the car. And though he's able to make some progress before that, the angle is awkward and the moment she's able to move her limbs she shifts her legs and arms to wedge herself in place.
Though she no longer has any weapons, her will to fight has not been eased at all. Fear has a tendency to cause people to give up in hopeless situations, as submissive acceptance of that fact can often result in survival. There's also a tendency to fear injuring a fellow human being too badly that results in people fighting 'fair', especially against a superior opponent who might deal more harshly with someone weaker than them who has harmed them. But Heather feels no such thing.
So when the guy struggling to grab her gets joined by someone else going for her neck, she releases her handholds in favor of intercepting the hand headed for her throat. Instead of merely grabbing hold of the hand with hers she angles her fingertips to dig her fingernails into his flesh. And she uses that grip to shift herself slightly so that the grab for her neck brings his thumb to her mouth. She bites down on it as hard as she can, seeing absolutely no reason for restraint with either nails or teeth and therefore showing none.
It's a foolish maneuver in a way since she might have lasted slightly longer if she had the use of her hands to help her stay beneath the steering wheel. But, on the other hand, she was going to lose that battle anyway and this way she actually gets to hurt this overly eager attacker. If he comes out of this literally minus a bit or two of his flesh then she'd count it as worth it.
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Post by Oswald Cobblepot - The Penguin on Aug 22, 2012 17:14:08 GMT -5
Mike starts to get angry. As if this little orange haired girl could stop him, she's not even half his size. His lip curls when she digs her nails in, that won't stop him. Neither will biting him. He's had worse, even his hands are scarred from breaks and cuts enough as it is. He snarls when her teeth break the skin but doesn't back off, doesn't even try to free his thumb, his fingers curling over her face, gripping on as he slams her head down toward the ground.
Oswald watched Jonathan awaken with great amusement. It couldn't have gone more perfectly. The two unconscious, drugged goons outside might disagree but their opinion didn't exactly matter. Oswald had won his success through careful planning, this was just the victory party.
Even Jon's response to his situation seemed funny where usually Ozzy might have found it dreadfully irritating. Oswald responded with mockery, dropping the Scarecrow mask onto the end of his umbrella so he can point it at back at Jon while he fakes a serious face "There is nothing for you here" He squawks a laugh, Terry seems to find it hilarious, even Linsey has a little smile. When the boss was happy things were good for them.
Tossing the mask into the briefcase Oswald still grins but turns to business, a gesture to Terry and the faithful dog happily goes to swing his fist into Crane's ribs just to illustrate the seriousness of the situation as Oswald starts talking "It's not strictly true is it? You're here. You've been quite the naughty boy Jonathan, making me track you down like this. We had a deal, it's time I collect my payment. Where is your new toxin Jonathan? The monster serum. As you made me find you I'd like to know how it's made too" Oswald didn't expect the answer he would like but that would just mean Jon was probably about to get hit again.
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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 Aug 24, 2012 22:12:09 GMT -5
Dr. Crane didn’t care very much for the position he was laying in. The containment table had several different settings, with several different positions it could move to, including upright. There was little reason to keep him laying down like this. It wasn’t all bad however, his head was still free to move. Although he had that freedom it didn’t make the position any more comfortable as the straps were tied quite tightly.
He watched The Penguin pick up his mask which had obviously been taken from him after he was tazered. The after effects of it still hadn’t gone away. Dr. Crane even had the occasional jump or pull in his skin that was unexpected. No matter how many times he had been tazed it was impossible to get completely used to. The mask was waved in front of his face by the end of the umbrella. The doctor narrowed his gaze toward him, he was mocking him. The others began to join him in their senseless laughter at his serious statement. He failed to find the humor in it.
Just as he went to finish his sentence Terry stepped forward in a hostile manner. He didn’t even have a chance to prepare before his fist went into his rib cage. Having a slab underneath him didn’t help with the blow. Even if he wanted to absorb the shock the pressure against his back was stopping him. The punch hurt as it connected with his ribs and knocked the wind out of Dr. Crane. His breath pushed out of his chest and he tried to gain it back. Through his teeth he let a grunted sound escape through his lips. Something told him that would be the first of many tonight. A glare shot from his eyes at the dog that had hit him and then made way for The Penguin.
He wasted no time in beginning to speak to him in a degrading manner. Did he really not know what he was trying to hold captive? He was the Master of Fear, The arbiter of Terror, The all powerful God of fear. When he asked for his new toxin the beautiful effect that it had ran through his mind. The FBI had held the information of what happened at Arkham Asylum, so The Penguin would have never known that it worked. Though the rumors in Gotham were thick about a terrifying beast, it wouldn’t have been the first.
The Scarebeast had been modified a lot sense that night. He had spent most of his time and most of The Penguins money trying to make a permanent version. He wanted to make something that instead of before triggered by injection, could be triggered at will. The formula he had for it was very close, almost completed actually, but he knew better than to write it down. Only small notes and research tests were wrote down on paper. When it came to the actual formula for any of his toxins it was all in his mind.
When he had first made the deal with the Penguin he always had the intention of using him for the money and then doing anything he wanted on his own. He really should have known better, The Scarecrow didn’t work well with anyone, and he never had. Dr. Crane was willing to pay any price for what needed to be done, his most perfect creation, a beautiful display of the truth. “You must be hard of hearing…Getting on in years?” His voice calmly roused to him. “There is ‘nothing’ for you here…but fear…and despair.” Dr. Crane added to his previous comment with a threat. He may have been tied, and threatened with violence, but that didn’t mean he was going to give up any information. It was possible that he could find some very important things in his hideout, but as long as he didn’t have the entire formula’s it was say behind his tongue. It would take such a kind of torture for him to spill anything….and he didn’t think The Penguin had the talent.
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Post by Heather Glass - VerMillion on Aug 24, 2012 23:57:31 GMT -5
Though she feels herself being pulles, Heather doesn't back down from her assault on the man's hand. If she were to pause to think about it she'd realize that by doing this she's asking to get hurt. Then again, even if she did she wouldn't be able to bring herself to care at this point. Fear would normally override her angry desire for revenge in order to instead encourage her to worry about preserving her life, but when you're not afraid to get hurt or killed the scale tilts the other direction.
And in a way, her lack of fear does her a favor in this situation - this was liable to end in her getting knocked out in one way or another, and a concussion is arguably a more pleasant way for that to happen than getting strangled. Or at least it's over a lot faster. She feels the odd sensation of her head getting literally thrown at the ground and is blissfully unaware of whatever happens for several minutes.
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Post by Oswald Cobblepot - The Penguin on Aug 29, 2012 18:12:25 GMT -5
Mike is good enough not to rough Heather up once she's out, there's still a snarl of annoyance but he did what he came over to do, she was out. The man who'd been trying to get her out of the car when Mike took over quickly steps in with handcuffs to make himself look busy and useful while Mike wipes the blood on his thumb onto his sleeve and inspects the damage "Get her moved to the location" he gestures to the nearest of the two unconscious thugs "Take them and have them seen to too" he orders and leaves them to it, heading for the building.
The man with Heather quickly gets one of the others to help him move everyone and piles them up into one of the cars with the two unconscious thugs still handcuffed up in the back two seats while an armed thug keeps an eye on them and Heather beside him in the middle of the car. One more to keep an eye on them from the front and the last to drive and they have a small escort as they raced down the streets to Warehouse Three and dropped the girl with the prison guards before heading on to the practice of a doctor who would be ready and wouldn't ask questions.
Oswald had paid a pretty penny to ensure a copy of the FBI's files from the lock down had ended up in his claws, he knew well enough that Jon had made quite significant progress with the monster, the report may have been quite confusing under the unusual circumstances of having Batman, Croc, Crane and Tiff doing battle in poor visual conditions but he got the gist of it, enough to know Crane's Scarebeast existed.
A little glare appeared for the comment about getting old but when Jon mentioned fear again Oswald only rolled his eyes "Jonathan, I could easily have you disappear so completely no one would have any idea where to even look. You are strapped to a slab at the whim of my mercy. I fail to see how I could possibly find this scary" his radio chirped and he waved to Terry to go ahead and continue while he answered it "What?"
Terry shot the doctor another grin and chuckled lightly before he swung a fist at Crane's face, and another, and finally another to the ribs while Mike's voice came over the radio "The girl has been taken care of" he was on the move into the building already and it didn't take long to assess the hole in the floor "Found a basement" "Good. Find a way down or make one" Oswald responded quickly before he returned a smile onto Jon again "Your lack of cooperation is far from unexpected but I will have what I paid for. You shall simply have to serve as an example why one does not break a deal with me and run off with my money"
The confiscation of everything Jon owned within the building was surprisingly thorough for a group of thugs. They weren't happy about being so careful but there was a reason why Mort had been placed in charge of that part of the operation. He believed in the proper collection and organisation of the items. There were photos taken, notes made, thugs were being made to attach labels on the stuff they picked up so they knew where it was. Had they not had orders from Cobblepot, heard rumours about Mort's basement and Mike hadn't just turned up to make sure everything was getting done properly they might have considered just shoving everything in boxes and getting it done quickly.
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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 Sept 1, 2012 17:57:41 GMT -5
Dr. Crane was never going to let him have the Scarebeast, he was never going to let him have his greatest work. It was such an accomplished compared to everything he had done in the last few years. All of it was his, he had built it! He had created it! And he wasn’t about to let The Penguin take glory for his beautiful work. No, his work held a much higher purpose than the paper that he planned to gain from it. This was too monumental of a work to be wasted on such a meaningless task.
That’s all The Penguin ever wanted to do with his research. He wanted to use him and then sell his workings for a profit, as if something of this kind of importance could be bought. Not from Doctor Jonathan Crane, he knew when and how to exploit his own devices, but with this it was only meant for one purpose, for him. The Scarebeast had always been about himself, from the moment he first conceived the thought standing in front of The Riddler so long ago. He could admit to the dealings with Mr. Cobblepot being underhanded and quite deceiving. Some may have even seen it as a terrible choice, but he had accomplished what he set after. So what did they really know? Nothing…
Anything at any price….
It seems he didn’t enjoy his previous comment about his age. Dr. Crane had no concept of age anymore, within himself. It ended at himself and began with the human and human anatomy. His perception of himself was entirely different from how others saw him. They were all blind; all they could see was a shell of what they wanted to see, not what truly lies beneath. The Penguins paired threat was empty in his eyes. He couldn’t get rid of him, it was impossible. That was something that he couldn’t make him understand even if he had the evidence laying right in front of him….and it was.
The Penguin mail fail to see it now, but it would be very clear for him in the future. As the dark thoughts turned and rolled into his mind, a disturbance chirped into the room. It was the crackling of a radio and The Penguin turned his attention for him to deal with it. He caught the wave of his hand from his peripherals, knowing what was to come next. The dog approached him with hostility in his smile. A wide hook slammed into his face and another followed right afterward. Before Dr. Crane was even able to deduce the damage in his mind another rough hit came to his rib cage.
As the hit impacted the air was forced out of his lungs, causing him to cough out and then choke back. ‘The girl has been taken care of’ rang into his ears. That could have led to several conclusions, but for now the doctor was going to focus on the evidence at hand. It was the only thing he could do in the midst of trying to hold back the fluid that was slowly filling his mouth. The evidence around the situation was they had no intention of being lethal with either of them, or they would have done so immediately. VerMillion was not a threat to them, and if the wanted to they could have neutralized her immediately. For now he would have to believe that she was alive, based on what he had seen.
They had found the entrance into the lower part of his lair. Although he didn’t want anyone down there The Penguin still wouldn’t find what he was looking for. He hadn’t conducted anything with the Scarebeast down below, that area was far too important. Instead of stumbling onto his research for the Scarebeast he would find a much more interesting sight. Rows of lab tables littered with pottery that were filled with damp soil and nothing more. Although it was an extremely important find, The Penguin would only have more questions instead of answers.
When Mr. Cobblepot turned back around to face him he held Dr. Crane’s attention with his words. He was going to make an example out of him? The statement caused him to finally spat out the blood he had held in his mouth toward his general direction. Some of the blood was bound to hit him, even though it wasn’t his intention to do so. His respiratory wasn’t doing so well after a direct hit to the rib cage twice. The doctor rested his head for a moment letting it loosely hang to the side. He closed his eyes for a moment and focused on breathing as his last words played over in his mind.
A red smile appeared slowly, reflecting the stain of the blood on his teeth. A dark almost exhausted laughter rattled in his chest. His eye’s shot open to lock with The Penguins. “Are you sure? “ The doctor mocked his words and then continued. “Your ignorance for what’s going on around you even now is baffling to me. But what can I expect from a man blinded by paper. A worthless sheet of parchment that you dive yourself into expecting to gain something of purpose in return? You speak of your mercy…but you have no understanding of what you’re saying. What you paid for was the truth…and you will have the truth Mr. Cobblepot…Perhaps you may feel it if you can get passed the girth of your belly and you may see it if you can look passed the edge of your nose. ” The doctor sucked in a breath of air, a small noise escaping his throat. “You have yet to receive your prize…but I fully intend to deliver..” He finished but never turned his iced eyes from his.
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Post by Oswald Cobblepot - The Penguin on Sept 24, 2012 12:41:58 GMT -5
The official orders for Heather's capture had been 'alive if possible but don't shoot her until Crane is contained'. They couldn't risk him doing something stupid and getting himself killed in the process however she wasn't seen as a threat. While she lived she could be useful, had she resisted capture to the point that they killed her it would be an acceptable loss and if needed to they simply wouldn't tell Jon what happened to her. Mike had been vague over the radio for a reason, the Penguin had been very very clear under threat of unpleasant consequences about using terminology that would confirm nothing and give no clues as to where she was to be taken or what happened to her. He wanted the freedom to make up the truth as and when the situation needed it.
A couple of the men are lowered down through the hole in the floor into the basement to look around and find a better entrance. They're only grunts, they don't think much about plant pots other than considering it odd. One snorts after passing the first row "Yeah, if I were inta botanery I'd hide it too" the other thug looks confused, though sadly not for the mispronunciation "Wha' the hell is botanery?" The first shrugs "Plants an' stuff? That Ivy woman were one" The other accepts this with an "Ooohh" and a knowing nod before he spots the door. Far from masters of the educational system they were hired goons for a reason but they got the others access to the basement and Oswald would do a great deal more thinking when he's informed of the find. An experiment or an attempt to grow some ingredient to his toxins was the most sensible solution, quite what he was trying to grow was more difficult to determine however it presumably didn't need a great deal of light if he had been trying to grow it in a basement, or perhaps that was the reason the pots were empty.
Jon's aim was unfortunately lucky and Cobblepot was quite glad for the gas mask that protected his face from the blood. He didn't look pleased, already he was tiring of Jonathan. The chances of getting something useful out of the man like this were slim, worth trying while he had him contained but bordering on the pointless. He accepted the cloth Linsey had quickly found and wiped the blood from his mask, ignoring the amount that had ended up on his clothes. Blood was all part of the job and he certainly wasn't going to wear his finest to this escapade, smartly dressed with a suit and some body armour certainly, he was still Oswald Cobblepot after all, but it was one of the few times he chose to not even wear a top hat "I had thought you had a little more decorum Dr. Crane but it seems I was mistaken"
Jonathan really was asking for it. Oswald's age, his weight, his nose, making fun of one would annoy the man but to spit at him on top? Oswald appeared calm but raged under the surface. Who did this man think he was? He was nothing! An insane former doctor, an idiot who under estimated those he did business with "It doesn't matter if you don't understand the lesson Jonathan, hundreds more will" he would use Jon as an example, he couldn't put his name to it but the underworld had a habit of finding these things out, he would make sure that criminals of Gotham wouldn't dare to cross him because look what he did to the supposed master of fear.
Personal revenge came first, Oswald calmly stepped forward, Terry would just have to take a break and let the boss do the job. The movements are swift, Oswald had been using his umbrella as a weapon since he was a child and he'd only gotten more violent and dangerous since then. With practised ease he hooks the handle onto Jon's arm, twists and wretches it round, aiming to dislocate and break the thing before driving the handle up towards Jon's nose, trying to break that too. To add final injury for the insults he draws it back into both hands and goes to drive the pointed end onto Jon's hand, he'll break that too if he can but Oswald also has a taser, it just looks like an umbrella and he intends to use it the moment he touches the doctor's hand.
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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 20:15:10 GMT -5
In the area underneath his lab he was sure mostly everything was either empty or dead. Despite his best efforts he never had gotten a single thing to grow. In this time he might have been a bit relieved that it had happened that way because he never wanted Mr. Cobblepot to ever get his hands on the ingredient for his toxins, let alone anyone. Dr. Crane had always been careful when he was down there, making sure not to leave seeds lying around.
VerMillion had been given a flower one day down there, during her training. Depending upon where she took that single flower it might be a problem. Though he doubted that he would be able to make the connection between the two it was still possible. In any case the flower would eventually die, and then it would be useless. If he couldn’t get it to grow out of its climate he doubted Mr. Cobblepot could, no matter how many bright minds he bought. She may have left the flower down there, but it was also possible she brought it back into his dark room, or more recently called – Her room.
The blood he had spat out had landed partially on the mask that he wore. What did he expect? For him to swallow the blood that had filtered up through his jaw? The man shouldn’t have been standing so close to fear itself. He really was too short and pompous for his own good. The insults from earlier probably didn’t help with the shorter man’s anger, from this angle I bet he thought he looked tall, but he was nothing to Dr. Crane.
“Decorum? All in perception Pengu-“ The doctor had meant to explain to him further his philosophy but he was abruptly cut off. An umbrella of his had hooked around his bound arm and twisted it. Dr. Crane threw his head back and hissed back the pain as he was struck and the arm clearly dislocated. His heart rate jumped and his breathing began ridged. He saw what was going to happen next and his body braced for the pain, he mentally prepared for what was to come.
Dr. Crane cried out in pain with the strike he had broken his arm for sure and he knew immediately exactly where on the bone structure. It was quickly followed by a rough his to his nose. He felt a crack upward on it toward the bridge. Breathing through his nose was now no longer an option. He cursed his name and went to speak through an opened red toothed mouth, blood seeping in through his words. “You’re wasting your-“ Again he was cut off as the umbrella assaulted him again. This time it had come down hard on his hand and he felt another snap, again crying out into the air.
Just as he tried to say something his teeth tightened together in shock. Electricity pumped through every nerve, he could barely think and that was dangerous in this situation. He needed to be able to articulate his thoughts before he spoke. Don’t give him anything, don’t tell him anything. He doesn’t deserve to know anything; he’s too blind to see it all. These were the only thoughts he could hold onto as the shock from the make shift tazer went through him. What else could he do?
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Post by Oswald Cobblepot - The Penguin on Oct 23, 2012 15:31:10 GMT -5
Heather's flower would be found and catalogued with everything else that was being removed from the Scarecrow's base. With Mort in charge it would certainly be put aside for identification but the significance may take more time, until someone questions whether any other plants were found on the premises and decides an unknown flower is questionable enough to investigate. With luck Oswald would see the connection once he began looking over the Scarecrow's items, the flower would have to be preserved until it could be identified.
Oswald took great joy in interrupting Jon with bouts of pain, the man spoke too much and always about the same thing. Fear this, fear that, always fear. His obsession was annoying, his endless belief that he was the master of it and could not be killed was infuriating and quickly grated on Oswald's nerves, being a man who led his staff with endless threats he enjoyed being feared. If Jon had any sanity left he should fear Oswald but he didn't, he just talked. To be able to shut him up was almost as satisfying as the revenge for the insults and business failure.
He'd wasted enough time though, there was only so many hours in the night and they must be finished before anyone noticed that something unusual was going on. If he wanted Jonathan to really be afraid there was always the obvious way of doing it and to use such a thing against him was almost poetic "Inject him" he growled as he stepped back, getting out the way of Linsey who quickly snaps into action, getting the fear toxin out of the case. She always steps a little faster when Oswald is angry.
As she's injecting that Oswald snaps an order at Terry "Find the equipment" and watches the big man quickly hurry out to question the search team on the whereabouts of Heather's radio equipment.
Oswald turns an angry little glare on Crane "It was a good deal Jonathan, all this trouble comes from your own foolish actions...I do hope you will be loud in your nightmares" He wanted the Gotham underworld to know the cost of backing out with a deal with him, if Jon wouldn't provide his side of the agreement he would serve as an example for anyone who thought it would be a good idea to do so. He would scare the Scarecrow, use his own game against him and he hoped, everyone would get to hear it.
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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 5, 2012 9:35:14 GMT -5
The shock that traveled up and down each never finally let go. He felt as if he had been rubbed against a carpet and then slammed into a metal sheet, The Penguin had held it for so long. The electric pulse had actually helped subside the pain of his broken limbs for a moment of time, giving him an option to breathe if he wished, but even his lungs were tightened and threatened to cry out in its own pain. Regardless of what his nervous system wanted to do, he bit it back.
Dr. Crane’s heavy pants tried to stop themselves, he was wheezing with each breath but still tried to calm it. If his ribs were broken, and he was positive that they were, even the slightest bump could cut into something important. He had to relax and he had to focus. He rolled his head and bore his blood stained teeth once more. Slowly he sucked in the humid air from around the room, just trying to settle his body from its pain. Rolling his head again his eyes blinked and he took in the short fattened image of Mr. Cobblepot. The room had blurred out several times but his image faded in and out from clear to fuzzy. His look was one of pure exhaustion. A state to where the body wanted to give in, but his mind was nowhere near.
His bones may have been broken, but Dr. Crane himself wasn’t. He would never be broken; The Penguin couldn’t break enough bones to make him give in to his demands. The doctor had been broken before, but never again. The first break was so potent and so permanent, he just couldn’t compare. Mr. Cobblepot was scared; the only logical reason he was doing this. He was scared that he had the Scarebeast and had hidden it from him. So he thought he could rummage through his things and eventually find it or get him to spill it through his teeth….It was going to be much more difficult than that.
But when he mentioned his toxin everything changed in his mind. Dr. Crane’s body stiffened and he cracked out a cry from his lips as a bone in his hand made an audible snap. Getting injected with toxin would not be a good thing in his current state. What was The Penguin thinking? He couldn’t do this, this wasn’t good for research! He had no idea what he was doing; he didn’t even know what he was studying. He couldn’t take the toxin, not himself, not in front of him. There had to be a way out of this, He wasn’t scared…He just needed more time to think…..Only Edward had seen the extent of what it could be with him. Giving Mr. Cobblepot this advantage was not an option over him.
“Wait!”
He shouted through his crimson stained teeth toward the Penguin that was clearly ready to watch him suffer through the toxin. Dr. Crane leaned his neck as far as he could within the straps away from Lindsey and the needle end. “I’ll tell you where it is..” The doctor panted out through his tightened teeth and panted breaths. Of course Dr. Crane could be very deceptive in his ways and he always had an external motive in mind. This would be a good way to buy himself some time, even if it was at a high risk. “I’ll tell you where it is…” He repeated in his exhaustion, just trying to get him to take the needle away. But he knew that he couldn’t just leave it at that. The Penguin was going to want more than that.
“It’s in my stomach…”
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Post by Oswald Cobblepot - The Penguin on Nov 26, 2012 20:19:50 GMT -5
Linsey paused and looked back to Cobblepot as Crane stalled for time for it almost certainly was simply an attempt to set back their scheduled. Oswald could see the tactic as clear as day and yet he cannot stop the thought that he has to check because what if it were true?
Sighing heavily in irritation Oswald checks his watch, he'd lost his patience with Jonathan's resistance long ago and to prolong the time until his ultimate revenge was just inconsiderate. The doctor was of course insane, perhaps it was something he would do to hide something for emergencies "I can and will check that if you make me Jonathan" he has the means to check, he doesn't want to but provided it will not take too long he will permit Mort to enjoy the evening with a little unexpected surgery, not that the man generally worked with subjects he had to keep alive.
Oswald reached for his radio rather than shouting around the building "Mortimer, your assistance is required with Doctor Crane, I do hope you've bought your knife" The response was quick as Mort left his supervising to Mike "Always sir" Some of the thugs felt rather unnerved by the sounds of the conversation and weren't unhappy to see Mort leaving their room. Mort had always taken his former profession as a hired killer very seriously and been a 'stab you in the back to investigate the most efficient place to stab someone in the back' sort of person, big angry thugs like Mike were much more relaxing to be around.
Tall, thin, about Oswald's age and balding as well Mort isn't an instantly creepy person despite his hobbies. Not someone to strike up conversation with from the disinterested look on his face but mostly normal, if you discount the engraved surgeon's knife in it's leather case that he's removing from his pocket as he enters the room and looks to Oswald for an explanation, ignoring Jon's situation entirely as first "He claims it is within his stomach" "Hm" A pity it would be so simple, Mort had hoped for an excuse to further investigate the nerves in the foot. The subject was already injured however, perhaps it would at least be mildly challenging.
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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 27, 2012 22:35:50 GMT -5
Jonathan settled at that moment after he spoke and his features became eerily still. The blood on his lips was beginning to dry, ready to crack later and slip his features. He could have put something in his stomach, it would have been a convenient way to hide something from him. He had indeed put something in him, but not in the way he had just mentioned. His words were stretched to avoid a situation he would rather not have Mr. Cobblepot look into. Not because of fear of what he may find out, but just because it would be to his greater advantage not to.
He almost smiled, ready to crack the drying blood and get it read to spill again. Oswald was actually considering what he wanted. Of course he was, men like him couldn’t resist the opportunity to get what they wanted because of greed. Dr. Crane had his own goals, but his goals actually mattered. Everything this man did was for the waste of paper, it was a waste of his life. But Mr. Cobblepot had been extremely usefull – or at least his funding had been. To complete the object in which he sought so feverishly.
But when another doctor was called in his look turned dark once more. He was going to cut him open? That wasn’t exactly what he had planned….But plans do change. “There is more than one way to get it out of me than to cut me open by some amateur with a scalpel. “ He spat and squirmed his body, trying to get anything loose. If Mr. Cobblepot would have given him the opportunity to throw up Dr. Crane might have had a chance to escape or at least give this man was he rightfully deserved. “This man has no idea what he’s dealing with, You would risk losing everything?” He almost laughed in his exhaustion. The doctor would have cut him open in vain if he did intend to do so. The most he would have been able to accomplish as a rather unpleasant hole, and one more injury to recover from in the end, and he would…recover. Mr. Cobblepot didn’t seem to understand that there was no hope for him, he couldn’t die, he couldn’t be broken and he wouldn’t give up on his goals. VerMillion was far too important to all of this to just let her be taken and used against him.
The Scarebeast he sought was indeed in him but not in the manner that Mr. Cobblepot naively thought. This was because he was unable to understand, to see the bigger picture that was in front of him. Men like this would never understand. His ignorance would be his own undoing at the end of fear. “The Scarebeast…Is within me. I can feel it in my blood with each moment passing, every moment that you’ve given to me every dime that you've wasted on me is within me…Wasted not because that it wasn't worth every glorious moment, but because you will never wrap your fingers around that in which you sought” He taunted him through his cryptic dramatics more before the pompous Penguin decided to leave, he obviously didn’t have the stomach for this sort of thing. Was it too much for him? "You're incapable of ever being able to handle such an incredible truth..."
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Post by Oswald Cobblepot - The Penguin on Dec 17, 2012 18:31:40 GMT -5
Oswald had managed to catch Jon, he wasn't about to let him go again just because he claimed to have something hidden within him. Nicer, less painful methods of investigating the claim didn't hold much appeal anyway, not when part of Oswald's reason for being there was to hurt Jonathan anyway. A few cuts would only add to the unpleasantness of the situation, it wasn't even nearly what Jonathan deserved for such inconvenience.
"I'm quite certain the level of amateur has been surpassed by this stage but I fail to see why you appear so concerned Dr. Crane when you have so often informed us all that you cannot die" With a cold smile from behind the gasmask Oswald moves out the way to take up spectator role on the whole matter next to Linsey while Mort approached his subject.
"I have gained very little in this unfortunate matter but while I would not consider your death to be a complete recoup of my time and money if it is all you're prepared to offer it would not be unwelcome" Oswald replies calmly as he gestures for Mort to proceed "I am however quite certain my employee would not risk the consequences of failing in this particular task so alas I imagine you may yet live until my patience decides otherwise" A subtle threat to Mort not to screw up. Oswald was however quite certain Jonathan would live, much like most he chose to work more closely with he knew more about Mort's activities and skill than his employee would like.
Jonathan's next words do catch some attention and a moment of pause as Oswald gestures for Mort to wait. Another trick to stall? Almost certainly but it wasn't like he had to release Jonathan to do anything about that one either. Oswald glanced over to Linsey "Procure a blood sample before we begin my dear" Jon's rambling was ignored and Oswald waited for Linsey to finish before motioning to Mortimer again and watching the man step back to Jon and dispassionately feel along his stomach "Do attempt not to squirm too much"
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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 Dec 27, 2012 13:55:06 GMT -5
Through his theatrical dramatics the last thing he expected the Penguin to do was let him go. But to unstrap him would give him a chance to get out on his own, and escape that would be on his terms. Doing anything on Penguin’s terms was what he had been against since the very beginning. Why did Mr. Cobblepot not see it sooner? That from the moment he walked in to speak with him, Dr. Crane had no intention of doing anything that he said. To him it was a brilliant idea, at whatever the cost, even if it was his own blood. The result that he got from his investment was far too important and far too great of an achievement to think anything otherwise.
But even through the satisfaction that had come over his features, laying there as a bloodied mess in front of the doctor that had every intention still of cutting him open, the Penguin managed to change his mood. So, this is what he thought fear to be? “You stare at fear itself…” He whispered with all confidence that he could never die. No, Dr. Crane didn’t fear for his life, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be cut open, it would be a terrible inconvenience to have to take care of while he was escaping. Yes, he had every intention of making it out of here alive yet.
Once again the man had always brought up his fortune. Such a useless waste of a mind, so wrapped up in paper. Something that could be destroyed and made valueless so quickly and yet he put all of his power into it. Like it couldn’t be stripped away from him? What a fool he was, and even strapped on the table looking up at his captor he only could see him as the fool in all of this. He would be the one that would succumb to his fears in the end; he would succumb to him in the end. And on that cliff into the edge of oblivion the Penguin would fall at his hands into the welcoming, cold embrace of the darkness itself.
But after his short whisper had rolled off his tongue all the doctor could do at that point was laugh. It was a sinister laugh, almost maniacal in tone at the very mention of a blood sample. Who did this man think he was? Did he really think that it would be possible for him to obtain or identify something through his blood when he could barely get a sprout from a seed? “All you will have is dust..” He laughed through his words, again making a cryptic verse only he could truly understand.
The doctor coughed a sputtered among his laughter, a deep rattle coming from within his chest cavity, his eyes glazed over several times, his left eye’s iris even became a bright yellow for just a moment before it suppressed back within him. He took large gasping breaths, not quite sure himself what was going on. After just a few seconds the rattle and the color subsided and he squirmed on the table as if feeling something uncomfortable leave him. His focus turned to the doctor that pressed at his stomach. “Are you sure?...You might not like what you see otherwise…”
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