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 Apr 20, 2013 14:55:00 GMT -5
Dr. Crane kept himself hovered over her as she eventually did it. His hands came over her for a moment but when she finally got it done he backed off and let her take the effects. He knew that she would have a bit of unpleasantness with her first try but it would fade soon. After feeling this good she would probably never have a problem with it again, if she could remember it of course. For her height and weight he had given her quite an impressive dosage, but it would be enough to make her forget about the cares of the day for now.
There would be no surprise in her reaction to it. He knew she would complain but her question to the character of the type of people that did such things made him raise his hand slightly. “People living in fear.” He spoke softly. Of course that would pertain to the entire world. But there wasn’t a person on earth that didn’t take some form of something to dull their pain. Only he, did he leave out of the equation entirely.
He saw her fit clam and her body begin to relax muscle by muscle. Within moments she was beginning to slide out of her chair. Dr. Crane rushed forward and caught her under the legs and wrapped his arm around to curl under her neck. He let he fall limply into his arms as he stared down at her and came back to his full height. She was still conscious and would probably remain so until she was prompted to lay down. That was his next objective, to find her somewhere to rest after a long day.
The options were not fantastic. He couldn’t bring her into the other room around the corner, due to Starfire being chained up there. That was where he currently slept and wouldn’t mind putting her in the cot if it wasn’t for Starfire. It wouldn’t be a good thing to have to explain to her right now, even if she was in a calm state of mind and probably wouldn’t react negatively to it. Instead he walked her back over to the metal table and laid her down on it. Once her body was relaxed he stared into her eyes and pulled a few rouge strands of fiery hair from her face. “Stay here..” He whispered to her as if she could actually get up and move if she wanted to. With the amount of medicine in her she doubt she could do that very well without hurting herself, so he simply warned her not to try.
Slowly his fingers came out of her hair and he moved away from the table. The doctor broke into a medical kit and pulled out an emergency blanket. It was fleece, probably the nicest thing he had down here and it would keep anything warm. He shook it out once it was out of the bag and brought it to her to cover her tightly in. That should keep the cold out and allow her to sleep for now. Dr. Crane pulled a chair over that he was using before and sat by her side just waiting for her to drift to sleep. "Sleep..." He whispered softly.
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Post by Heather Glass - VerMillion on Apr 21, 2013 4:42:03 GMT -5
The world seems to have turned into a comfortable haze to VerMillion. It's not that she's unaware of what's going on around her, it's that she simply doesn't care about the vast majority of it and has a hard time paying any attention to such meaningless things. Where she is, what she's doing, the time, how she feels physically - none of it really matters, does it?
There is, however, one very large exception to everything being meaningless in haze world: Who she's with. Not everything about him - most of what he's doing and saying she couldn't care less about. Mostly what matters is simply the fact that he's present. She spent weeks in the Penguin's place simply wishing he was there, after all, and it would take more than a potent drug for her to ignore him. Actually, if anything, the drug only enhances her concentration on him.
Well, with some lapses, anyway. It isn't until she's securely in his arms that she notices, "You're holding me!" Her voice indicates mild surprise, as if she's just noticing this now and is quite delighted by the fact. "I like it when you hold me..." she adds, lifting her head just slightly so that she can rest it against his shoulder. Hmm, yes, she likes this a lot! If it were up to her, she'd want Jon to hold her like this and never, ever put her down again! It wouldn't be such a big request to make, would it? She weighs practically nothing, after all, and Jon is so strong... But the desire to actually say any of those thoughts isn't strong enough to actually form the words.
And it would be pointless now anyway, as he's already set her down on the table and she's just being very slow to consciously be aware of that fact. It isn't until the lingering sense of warmth from his body is nearly faded that she realizes that he's gone. Her forehead wrinkles as she turns her head to look for him, but she thinks that he told her to wait? Yes, he did... Does that mean he'll be back soon? She hardly started in pondering that question before he's back, and her forehead immediately smooths.
In fact, her whole body becomes even more relaxed as she starts to feel warm - she hadn't cared enough to notice that she was a bit cold before, but this pleasant warmth is much better! Hearing some noise to one side, she turns her head just to check and see if it's anything that matters, and her face plays at a smile when she sees him. Well, at least until the one word he whispers manages to make it's way all the way into that part of her head that actually understands it. The forehead wrinkle returns as she says, "Don't want to sleep... you're here..." True, she could probably let herself drift off if she simply closed her eyes and let it come, but she can sleep any time - Jon is here now. And sleep is a bit of a crapshoot when it comes to Jon: sometimes she dreams about him, other times she doesn't. And actually being here with him is better than dreaming about him. Even if it's haze world Jon.
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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 Jun 3, 2013 17:21:56 GMT -5
The weeks and months that had preceded this were filled with many trials for him. One after another they seemed to build, but that was the way it had always been. There was always some kind of task stalking over his shoulder, some with their hands around his neck. Dr. Crane’s talents were highly desired and although there were those that could imitate his work, none could truly do it like him. Not even Miss Ivy, whom claimed she was the superior chemist in every way. That was the difference that set the two apart. She believed that she was superior in a field that he had little desire to be superior in. He simply was superior in his field and everything that surrounded it, including chemically.
Dr. Crane was aware that others attempted to use him for his talents not so much his mannerisms. There were some that would be quick to try and rid of him fast if it weren’t for what he was able to do. But that was the beautiful point inside itself. There was no one like him, because he was everything that ever was and ever would be. They could determine whatever reason they needed to try and suppress their fears of what he knew to be the truth. It was impossible to rid of him; because he was a part of them…..He possessed them.
But indeed, over the last few months something strange did happen, he had stepped over the line of what was his normal. The streets of Gotham’s scum began to see the recluse of the man that he was with this woman that lay on the table before him, lamenting about how he had held her and how she now missed it. He had picked her up with purpose, nothing more to be intended for her, or at least that is what he continually told himself as he leaned over her. This, fragile art work that laid in front of him, Someone he had possessed more than anyone, even the man she never knew about. This was in such a different way, something that was so much deeper under the skin. It was passed the muscle and beyond the tissue. Somehow it had buried itself there and began to lay dormant until it festered and grew. He couldn’t seem to dig it out.
Slowly, the doctor raised his hand to her cheek and pet her hair back away from her ghost pale cheek. He leaned down and without a moment of hesitation his lips came to hers. It was like lightning struck him at that moment, like he was looking for a breath of life that had long since left him in a sewer of a broken world. It only last for a moment, but it seemed like an eternity in those few precious seconds. Dr. Crane pulled back away from here but never let his eyes leave hers. He wasn’t afraid, he was fear itself. Something about that moment where he had let his mind wrap around it had given him the pause to be able to let it slip. That, something that had gotten deep under his skin.
Ever the abuser to himself, he let his hand slip off of her cheek and turned away to work on something else, in the purest silence he had ever managed to concoct.
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Post by Heather Glass - VerMillion on Jun 4, 2013 2:39:44 GMT -5
The last few weeks have been strange for VerMillion. Technically, she didn't even exist before that - she may be able to remember things that happened before that, but before that day in the Penguin's prison she had and hadn't existed. In some ways she has always been a part of Heather, but only as a piece. Before then she didn't have her own thoughts, her own experiences, and her own desires. Even now she shares much of them with Heather, but only because she's a piece of Heather that is very similar to the whole of her.
And the whole of Heather has experienced such a dramatic shift in the past few months that she'd hardly believe that her life is what it is now if you'd told her before it happened. Some parts of it are the same - at the core, she's the same person she was before. And on the surface not much has changed - a scar or two, a little thinness in her cheeks thanks to her latest ordeal - but at times it seems that everything from just beneath the surface yet stop just before reaching the core of what makes Heather herself has changed.
Yet the biggest change hasn't been the presence of VerMillion - no, VerMillion is simply a piece of her mind that has grown to be distinct from the rest of it. The change has been Jon: that Gotham rogue who has changed from being a monstrous criminal in her eyes to a man - a man she now feels a bond with that is far deeper and stronger than he'd ever dream. How it happened, she has no idea. But she literally can't think of anything she would not do for him if he asked, all in the hopes that it would make him happy. All in the hopes that he will return her feelings. All in the hopes that he'll never turn her away.
But for the part of her that's VerMillion, life isn't quite so simple. The rest of her may be surrounded by fears - always worrying, always questioning whether or not she'll get what she wants, always kept contained by boundaries that she fears to cross - but for VerMillion none of those boundaries seem to exist. At least, not until she runs right into them. And while that blindness allows her to discover that there are far fewer of them than Heather would ever believe, it also makes the world a dizzying array of apparent options. Rather than questioning whether or not something is possible, instead she questions which of the possibilities is the best one.
Between the two sides of herself, it's impossible for the man who is the genesis of all those feelings to kiss her without making yet another change to the whole of her as both realize that what they hope for most may happen. Or at least, it would be impossible if it weren't for the drug causing the world to be a delightful haze and her thoughts to run together like thick pudding. As his lips press against hers, does she truly realize that the man who has become the center of her world is kissing her for the first time? No. Instead the soft touch of his lips seems only natural, given the way she feels about him. Her response to it is slowed by the drug that dulls her reflexes, but her lips slowly shift to meet his until they're no longer there. And when she notices that the kiss is over, she lets out a small laugh of both content amusement and tired happiness as she says, "I like that..."
Though they're dulled somewhat by the drug and slow to follow his movements, her eyes haven't left him since the moment she noticed that he was sitting next to her. And they follow him as he turns away to give his attention to something else. Her head shifts slightly so that she can continue to watch him without lifting it. But in spite of her desire to remain awake so that she can simply be with him, the fact that he's no longer even paying attention to her deprives her of any stimulation for her mind - or at least anything she'd care about. It actually takes quite some time, but eventually if he were to give her a glance he'd see that her eyes have closed and she's fallen into a deep sleep.
It impossible for her to guess how much time has passed when she wakes up - minutes or hours? But she wakes up to a feeling of something warm and soft against her lips. What the...? Only barely awake, she reaches a hand to her lips to discover that a piece of her blanket has shifted to rest against her lips. Huh, she thought it was... Nah, that's ridiculous - Jon would never to that! Must have been a dream... A very, very good dream.
She smiles to herself, content at first to simply continue to lay there, but after a moment someone else stirs in her mind and asks a question. Sighing at the need to do so, she opens her eyes and looks around. Her thoughts are still as sluggish as molasses - quite the improvement on the pudding of before, though - so it takes her a moment before she quietly murmurs, "We're in Jon's lab." She yawns heavily as her mind tries to awaken further in spite of the lingering trace of chemicals in it. "Yeah, Jon's new lab - he came and got us, remember?" she adds, wondering if she might possibly be able to delay waking up just a bit longer.
But no, she quickly realizes that in spite of the molasses thoughts, the mind trying to push back the haze is now fully and completely wide awake - there's no help for it, she's done sleeping. The sigh that she lets escape as she pushes herself into a seated position turns into a groan as a twinge in her back informs her that she'd slept on a surface that didn't fully agree with it. Great - just what she needed, a kink in her back! Rubbing the sore spot with one of her hands, the other pulls the blanket off her upper body and lets it rest on her lap as she looks around herself for Jon.
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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 Jun 27, 2013 11:59:08 GMT -5
While she had been asleep Dr. Crane had work to do. He had fixed up the other side of the sewer, making sure his captive had everything she needed. There wasn’t much to be had over there and not much he was going to be able to give her in the first place. Being an alien however it seemed that she didn’t need much of the material on this earth. She was calm and complacent most of the time, although every now and then he would catch a glimmer in her that spoke to how much she truly wanted to be free. Until he had what he wanted, she would never be free. But he didn’t intend to hold her longer than that. There was simply little use for her afterward.
Dr. Crane came back into the other side eventually and went to a desk on the opposite side of where VerMillion laid to rest. There were many more things he could do with Starfire while she was under this state. It wasn’t as if the thought that had crossed so many others minds over the reason didn’t crawl through his. Slowly the pencil turned in his hand as he mulled the thought over in his mind. Who was the Batman? Who was the Bat Family? Such tempting questions and all he had to do was ask to obtain a list. What a price that list would go for. He would be able to get out of this sewer and build himself a perfect lab. Yes, the thought was indeed tempting. Luckily for the Batman, the cost of the information wasn’t worth what he would gain. Dr. Crane saw ahead on those kind of things…..And he really didn’t care who the Batman claimed to be. He knew who he was. Even though he would not obtain the information it didn’t mean that other Professionals wouldn’t come looking for it or believe that he had it still. But he would be prepared for that.
Just as his eyes were beginning to fade into another world through the sewer wall he stared at, the sound of a can kicking down one of the tunnels made him turn his head. The doctor stood and straightened himself, beginning to walk into the tunnel to investigate. He was able to walk for some ways before he heard any rummage of further noise. The metal clattering against the walls could have traveled far but he turned another corner to see a bum wading through his own garbage can he probably carried on his back. How fortunate for him that he would come this way….Dr. Crane couldn’t let him leave. Deprived of his senses the man didn’t even look up until it was too late. The doctor had him from behind and around the throat.
His eyes remained cold and focused as he got the man into the shadows grip with ease. It was a bit of a struggle as the man was quite a bit burlier than him and made Dr. Crane had to step back with him several feet to keep him off of his own. VerMillion should have still been asleep, but he was coming closer to the entrance. Ominous shadows of the crime he was committing scattered the sewer walls. He looked like a predator trying to devour his prey. But the doctor was no murderer. Slowly, the man fell limp in his arms, asleep for now, his newest patient.
Dr. Crane turned with him, dragging the body just in time to see VerMillion standing there before him. His eyes were cold and calculated. There was no remorse in his eyes, now shock or regret for what he had done. There would be no later shame behind them in what she had seen. Instead he pressed on to carry the body further inside. “You’re looking better…” The doctor gave his half greeting as he drug the heavy man. “There was an unexpected guest.” He continued, saying nothing about what he had done before she drifted to sleep. There was nothing to be said about it.
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Post by Heather Glass - VerMillion on Jun 28, 2013 1:13:07 GMT -5
A quick look around tells VerMillion that Jon is not in the room. She frowns at that, as normally the most obvious place to look for him would be in his lab and she's already there. On top of that, she quickly reflects that she doesn't know her way around the place yet. There's the lab, and a twisted maze of tunnels she can't remember exactly leading to various other places... Yeah, that's helpful. How is she supposed to find Jon in this place? And what if he's off in that area he told her not to go? Well, she's not going to just sit here waiting for him, that's for sure!
Pushing the blanket the rest of the way off of herself, she gets off the table. Funny... she doesn't remember getting on the table. She remembers... floating... What did Jon give her anyway? It doesn't seem to have helped her leg much - it's still better than it was, thanks to the bandage, but it doesn't really feel like it got any better while she was resting. Maybe it's not been long enough? Either way, not only does she have to go look for Jon, she has to experience pain to do it. Ugh...
Looking at the directions she could go, she remembers that Jon told her not to go over to the other side... There's some temptation to go looking over there simply because it's forbidden, but she decides that she should at least hold off on trying that until she's at least searched the other nearby areas. Fortunately for Jon's desire for secrecy, she's only partway through her explorations before she can hear an odd sliding sound and dancing shadows near the entrance. Hardly frightened of either, instead she's curious as she walks over to see what's coming.
And when she sees Jon dragging a large, unconscious man, she smirks in amusement. She should have figured that he'd be off doing something like that. In a way it makes this place seem more like home - the old hideout had come to be home to her, and seeing Jon drag in an unconscious person was not unusual there, so seeing it here just links this place to that memory. And she hardly expects to see Jon feeling bad about what he's doing - as far as she's concerned, it's just a thing that he does. She doesn't get why he does it, but she also doesn't feel any need to try and stop him either.
"If you say so..." she comments about her appearance, as she didn't find a mirror during her search and therefore hasn't the slightest idea if she looks better than she did. And the only comment she gives about the man he's dragging in is, "I see that." She ponders for a moment if she should offer to help, but he seems to be managing just fine without her, she reasons, and if he thinks she should be helping he can always say so.
Besides, she has other things on her mind. "You drugged me," she comments, sounding rather annoyed, as she steps to one side to make sure that she's not in his way regardless of where he's taking the guy. She knew where he'd be taking the guy if this was the old hideout, but she's unsure of the setup here.
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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 Jul 1, 2013 19:17:07 GMT -5
Dr. Crane hadn’t expected VerMillion to react that much when she saw the now limp man in his arms. He went straight through the path she had created as he drug him. It was nothing that she hadn’t seen before and even if she hadn’t..She wasn’t going to do anything about it. No amount of complaining that she could do was going to stop him from doing anything.
The man was difficult to carry but he managed to get him to the table that VerMillion previously laid on. This time however he leaned under the table and began to tie the big brown straps that were secured underneath it around him. Dr. Crane didn’t need him fussing about whenever he finally decided to wake. For now VerMillion was just going to have to put the thought of a nap aside, or she could simply sleep on the floor.
Once he was secure he went to his lab table, finally finding time to answer her now. “No…I didn’t” He answered plainly and began sifting through his tools. He picked up a scalpel and held it up into whatever light there may be coming from above. “You drugged yourself, I simply provided.” The doctor reminded her and put the scalpel back down from the small amount of light to be had. For a moment he seemed frustrated. His fingers came to the bridge of his nose and rubbed as if he was very fatigued. Slowly he let them massage the innards and outer parts of his eyes until he was satisfied. There just wasn’t enough light in here to do what he needed. He didn’t have nearly the amount of tools he had before or the equipment.
It wouldn’t be forever. There was a plan behind those frustrated eyes that was going to bring him back everything he lost and more. But right now he was just going to have to push through working with less. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t worked with less before, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed it. On top of everything now there was two woman he had to deal with, one far more obedient than the other. Whatever laps he had just before she slept….No…
It wasn’t a lapse. It was just a part of what he needed to do. The doctor straightened his thoughts out again and let his hand fall from his face. He needed to remain focused
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Post by Heather Glass - VerMillion on Jul 3, 2013 4:03:29 GMT -5
Once Jon drags the man past her, VerMillion follows at a short distance. Her nose wrinkles slightly when she gets a closer glimpse of the guy - ew, he's filthy! And is that smell the guy or the sewer? It's definitely not Jon - he always smells at least vaguely of chemicals but maintains at least a minimum level of hygiene, possibly to keep from contaminating his lab work. She, on the other hand, smells like vanilla and peaches - the former being the scent of the soap that lady had, and the latter being the shampoo and conditioner.
His silence after her comments is not unexpected. If Jon has nothing to say then he won't say anything, and if he does have something to say then he'll say it whenever he feels like it. So she takes his lack of response to mean the former and simply observes while Jon ties the guy to the table, until it proves to have been the latter. Though his response causes her to frown. "Yeah, you provided it. And you made it. And you showed me how to take it. And you said it was pain killer," she replies, still sounding annoyed, "That didn't count as 'pain killer'." Or at least, nothing that she would describe as anything so benign as pain killer. "That was like... drugs," she adds, having no idea how to better phrase that. That was the first time she's ever experienced any such thing so she has no idea what the right vocabulary would be.
Though, having said that, she's not blind to how Jon's acting. "Is something going on?" she queries, head tilting curiously to the side as she moves to stand next to him. He looks tired, though she figures that if he really was that tired he'd go rest even though he never seems to do that much. But he's always been kind of hard for her to read.
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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 7, 2013 21:57:11 GMT -5
The smell of the sewers didn't both Dr. Crane anymore. He had spent a long time in the sewers, though not as long as some of the lower rouges had. He had no particular excuse to be used to the smell rather than it simply didn't bother him. It was spread around that Dr. Crane was a filthy man, going from filthy place to place but he could only conclude it was because society associates filth with things they fear most. If the truth was told they would see that he is actually a very clean man that keeps the conditions around him as clean as he can. Sometimes the places he is at doesn't allow him to sterilize everything but that isn't his fault, if they would have never removed him from his work he could work in an extremely clean environment. Dr. Crane was a doctor after all and sterilization and hygiene were important. Though personal appearance never made it high up his list on things to cover, thus adding to the stigma that he was filthy.
Dr. Crane's focus straightened again when VerMillion started speaking. It wasn't that he wasn't listening to her, she just wasn't very bright about the subject she was talking about. It was something he would rather not waste his time explaining to a child that barely knew anything about drugs outside of the ones that she probably did with her friends in high school. "It wasn't like drugs..." He corrected her in a flat almost bored tone. He wasn't bored with her, he was just frustrated about his current working conditions. "It was drugs." He muttered under his breath. All forms of medicine were drugs but he was aware of the way she was meaning to say it, he just felt the need to correct her on it.
Her next question was more difficult to explain. His fingers touched lightly over his scalpel and made the blades smooth surface run up against the scratch of the long table. Yes, I am trying to work." He cut her off for a brief moment before he tried to remedy that harsh tone. The last thing he needed was her storming off down here and him having to waste time to go and reel her back. It's just been a very long few days... He explained in a more gentle tone this time, determined to focus back on what he was doing.
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Post by Heather Glass - VerMillion on Aug 11, 2013 2:19:20 GMT -5
The correction causes VerMillion to roll her eyes. He knows what she meant, and she knows that he does, so why bother? "And your fault," she feels compelled to tack on. If she'd known what it would do to her, she wouldn't have taken it. She wouldn't have agreed that she'd needed to sleep right then. Though that's all water under the bridge now, she supposes... except that she'd somewhat determined to make sure that they both agree who was to blame for it.
She doesn't really react to his initial, harsh response to her question - if he's upset at her for such a little thing, that's his deal really. And she can't fear the consequences of upsetting him like Heather can, though her other half does note that it's best not to upset him. "It's been a long few weeks..." she comments, remembering their time apart, then suddenly realizes that she hasn't the slightest idea what either the time or date is. Weird... But neither matters so she pauses for a moment before asking, "So... is there anything I can do to help? Or something else I can do while you're working?" She fidgets a little, glancing around the room.
Before all of this, she remembers how bored she was in their old hideout. Never mind that she had her own room, full of her own stuff to distract her if she'd wanted... She'd kill to have even that bit of it back. What's there for her here?
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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 28, 2013 9:29:09 GMT -5
Dr. Crane was listening although it never did appear to be so. He was busy, had dove straight into his work and now she was beginning to bug him. Of course, she wanted human contact, her delusion, but it wouldn't assist her in this situation and nothing he could do would take away the desire for what she really wanted. Dr. Crane understood it all too well, despite what she may have thought.
The doctor calmly put his pen down. There was a slight hint of annoyance in his features but he simply stared forward in thought. It had been a long few weeks and she still had no idea what happened to the lounge. VerMillion wouldn't have any idea the length that he went to retrieve her and that was fine. She didn't need to know and he had little desire to tell her. As fast as fire spread through the depths of the world he was indulged in,, he was sure she would eventually find out. It was even possible at some time she would catch it on the news or walk by it.
Her next idea actually gave him a thought moments before he was going to tell her to stop bothering him. She wanted something to do, as if he was to provide her entertainment. Dr. Crane looked around the grimy sewer, scanning over the moss on the walls and the moisture spots where water seeped through the cracks. The severity of the dankness in this place was the reason he decided to give it another try. "Yes" The doctor answered softly and pointed to three pots that sat on the ground near the wall. "You may talk to them." He gave direction to her and then went right back to his work. Perhaps a small bit of conversation, vibration to the roots would assist with something. At this point he was ready to try all sorts of myth method and it would give her something to do.
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Post by Heather Glass - VerMillion on Aug 28, 2013 17:38:41 GMT -5
When he indicates the pots, VerMillion immediately gives them a glance, though the dull expression on her face when when she turns back to Jon indicates that she's extremely unimpressed by the task she's been assigned. But it's only a moment later that she's walking over to the pots. Scanning the floor near them, she finds the least dirty-looking spot and carefully sits there - her injured leg, though feeling much better, doesn't really appreciate the maneuvering so she has to do it a bit gingerly to avoid causing herself an unnecessary amount of pain. Shifting herself into a cross-legged position, she glances over the pots.
"You know, if we were pretty much almost anyone else, this would be hard," she starts, speaking quickly, "But we used to host a radio show, and though people might think that it wasn't that hard since it was a call-in show and we didn't have to be the only one talking - sometimes people didn't call in. Especially back when we used to do college radio, because hardly anyone was ever listening, let alone calling in. So we had to kill a lot of time, talking non-stop and we had to somehow still keep it interesting or else someone who was thinking that they might call in would change their minds. And if we let it get really bad, people would get bored, stop listening to our show, and then we'd lose our job. So it isn't that hard for us to just talk, though that's a skill and it took a lot of practice.
"Of course, what's different about this, is that at least we could be pretty sure that someone was actually listening even if we seemed to not be getting any response. Here it's just us, a few pots, and maybe Jon - but who can ever tell with him? So maybe talking right now is kind of crazy, since I don't really know that anyone is listening? But then again, I'm probably already crazy. I mean, as far as I can tell, I didn't exist a month ago, and most of the stuff I remember actually happened to Heather. So it's kind of... not normal for me to be here. I know that if we met someone else who was like us, we'd think they were crazy, anyway.
"But I don't think I really care that much about that anyway. Even if this means we're crazy, then so what? It's not like we're really that abnormal. I mean, there's two of us in one head, and that's weird, but there's worse kinds of crazy. Most of the time it doesn't even feel that way anyway - I mean, Heather's been really quiet lately, and when she's quiet it's like she's not even there. Well, except for today - she's said a lot today, but I think that's because today has been a really weird day.
"And it's not been what I expected - being out of there, I mean. I guess I kept imagining that we'd go back to the old hideout... but I guess not. And this place is... well, it's a lot better than where the Penguin had me but it's still... not the old hideout. I guess I shouldn't complain about it for that reason, I mean I'm sure Jon has a good reason for us to be here but... See, when he brought me to the old hideout he had a room ready for me, and a radio setup for me and... I mean, it was kind of weird to me then that he was all ready for me to be there for a really long time even though I didn't want to be there yet. But here everything is kind of the opposite, and I don't like that.
"Maybe I just kind of got spoiled last time? I don't know. I don't even really know for sure what I'm griping about. I should be happy to be here... but I guess that I'm just not right now. Maybe the drugs haven't worn off or something? I mean, I've been awake for less than an hour. That could be it. Or I'm just not used to this place? I don't know. Or maybe it's that it was Heather back at the old place that I'm remembering, not myself and not here? Something definitely doesn't feel right, though.
"And it's like, if I don't really know what the problem is, what am I supposed to do about it then? And what am I supposed to do when I run out of things that I can say to a few pots? I mean, like I said I have the skill to sit here talking to myself for a very long time, but my radio show only ever lasted for an hour, tops, so there's a definite limit to that. I don't think that Jon really thought that through," she says, glancing behind her for any signs that he's listening.
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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 25, 2013 9:44:35 GMT -5
Finally, the girl was able to leave him alone. It was a simple order, one that he was sure she could carry out without messing it up. He tended back to his work until she started to speak. He wasn’t sure what pulled him away from it at first though he quickly convinced himself that it must have been the thought that she was going to touch one and he needed to supervise. He said she’s could talk to them, not touch them. The flower was already extremely picky with its handlers and habitat as it was, for her to put her hands on the soil or the seed was just an insult to his work. Then again, he had given her a flower before and she had taken care of it. But, it was gone now. An incredible loss….
Once she had started in it didn’t seem like she had any plans to stop. VerMillion prattled on about her old life and the things she believed were important to her in it. As he stared over her thin frame, that had seen far too little food in the past weeks and her bright flame colored hair, that had now been washed and fell in brushed strands, He came to the conclusion that talking was probably one of the only things that she did have a talent for. It was a vessel to hide her anxiety, for whatever reason she had made up in her mind to keep her sanity. All the same she had a talent for speaking. Dr. Crane didn’t believe he didn’t have a talent for speaking; he just simply lacked the will to those who didn’t deserve it. Those who were fortunate to catch his words were far from understanding them. Dr. Crane was never without something to say but he always kept the mindset that men that say everything have nothing important to say, when a quiet man speaks it’s best to heed every word, because every word is important and with meaning.
Her words had turned to speak about him. He didn’t have a problem being talked about while he was in the room and not a part of the conversation. Among his many rendezvous and meetings with the other Professionals of Gotham he was quite used to it. Instead of talking to him that had made a habit of talking about him although he was standing or sitting right there. Most of them were aware they wouldn’t get a rise or a response out of him, so they just acted like he wasn’t there. When somehow he happened to be in the right place at the right time for a game of poker, he wasn’t interested in participating in their small talk, thought he noted every word.
Maybe he had spoiled her at the old hideout, but her reaction was only because she feared what would happen now with the immense loss of what she had known to become her security. Of course the thought of security was an illusion in the first place, but under her current condition she wouldn’t process any of that information. When she glanced to look at him he didn’t move from his turned position. Instead he stayed staring at her as if he was waiting for her to finish. When she stopped speaking he sighed and rolled his lips together. “That was acceptable I suppose” He gave his own version of what some might call praise. “But I think its Miss Glass’s turn to speak to them.” He passed the suggestion along to her, not expecting to have to ask but for her to just simply comply with it. He had a question for her and before anything continued after that speech he wanted her to consider it.
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Post by Heather Glass - VerMillion on Sept 25, 2013 19:34:52 GMT -5
If VerMillion knew that Jon was taking any of the various feelings that she was expressing as a sign of fear, she'd find that hilarious. She's never felt any such thing! She doesn't know that she can define what she's feeling instead very well, but it has nothing to do with feeling insecure about this place. It's more of a... restlessness? Something like that - she's just not... satisfied with something.
When she sees that Jon is not only listening, but apparently listening attentively, a look of mild surprise flashes across her face. Though it's quickly replaced by her looking at the ceiling and giving a slight sigh at his calling it 'acceptable'. Given the exact circumstances of the situation she thinks that merits a better word, especially since she could have kept going for longer if she had to, but she'll offer no verbal complaint since she knows that any praise at all coming from Jon is rare. Still, she wishes that he'd given her anything less boring to do.
What he says next causes her expression to fall just slightly. "Okay, but if she freaks I'm not letting her pass out," she says, grumbling a bit. Letting Heather out... causes problems. Then again, she suspects that if anyone can somehow fix that whole thing, it would be Jon. Clearly it has something to do with fear, which is why she personally doesn't even 'get' what the problem is, let alone begin to figure out what to do about it. The only strategy for it that she's been able to come up with is simply keeping Heather in most of the time. But, turning her head back forward, she lets her mind trade places with Heather's.
Heather immediately shudders at the sudden string of sensations that assault her senses. She may be able to see and hear whatever VerMillion sees and hears, but the other senses are absent and even those two seem dulled in comparison to the 'real thing' that she's feeling now. She's gotten used to not having to deal with... all of this. Even when she starts to get used to the initial sensations, she's still shaking like a leaf, eyes pressed closed in an effort to keep the world out. Her breath comes out in shallow gasps, but it's that she's trying to focus on - just breathe normal... why can't she breathe normal?
A moment passes and she's able to stable herself somewhat, letting her eyes open to reassure herself that what VerMillion saw was not a dream or illusion - she really is not in that prison anymore. She can only see a line of pots next to a wall, nothing threatening. Her breath still comes in shallow gasps, but a bit deeper than before, and she can feel herself calming to the point to where the shaking eases. She's okay, everything is okay... VerMillion reminds her that she supposed to be speaking to the pots. "Um..." she says quietly, her voice sounding strange in her own ears. How long has it been since she was out and said something? She can't really remember - the weeks she was away from Jon all blend together in a muddle in her head.
So lost in her own emotions, it takes several moments for her to remember where she is, exactly. Of course she'd seen it all along with VerMillion, but it all somehow feels different from this perspective. And it isn't until it all gets sorted out in her mind that she remembers that Jon is behind her, watching her. She suddenly goes stiff, her head slowly turning as if she wants to look but is terrified about what she might see.
In fact, the instant that she catches a glimpse of Jon in her periphery, she's scrambling to her feet and then backing away from him, wincing a little as she forgets to be careful about her leg and puts too much strain on it. But she has far too much adrenaline now to worry too much about a little thing like pain. In fact she doesn't notice that the trembling has returned in force or that her breathing is once again erratic. Instead the only thing she's able it pay attention to is Jon, who she probably couldn't look away from if she tried. But it's not to meet his gaze, but for the more primal reason of not letting something scary out of her sight - she hasn't looked at Jon like that since her first dose of brave toxin.
But there's a hint of something beyond pure fear in her expression - an uncertainty. "Jon?" she asks, hesitantly, sounding as if she's actually unsure as to whether or not he's actually who he appears to be. Which is perfectly understandable, if you know all that she's been through. Not that even VerMillion understands all of that, even though her other half was there the entire time.
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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, 2013 15:12:25 GMT -5
Dr. Crane dismissed her protests with a simple wave of his hand as she seemed to let go of one personality and fluidly change to the other. He observed every reaction in the change with delicate care. He noticed every pinch of her nerves, a rising fear coming up within her as she reverts back to herself, or her other self. It could be heavily debated upon which self was actually the real self anymore. It would take far more testing to determine whether even his own theories about it were true, but of course he was closer than anyone else, he had made her.
He paid closer attention to her this time than any of the others he had seen her switch. It was interesting that she could simply will this to be so. Dr. Crane had been working on that same effect for some time, and although he wouldn’t admit it, he had failed horribly at it. Something was very wrong with his formula and now it was too late to reverse it. He simply couldn’t “will” it out anymore, it came whenever it desired. Dr. Crane had lost control of his own experiment and this time he was the catalyst.
Dr. Crane stood abruptly as she nearly fell but made no movement to attempt to help her. As soon as he stood to his full height, he brushed off any reservations he might have had and walked to her. Yes, she had a task where she was supposed to be speaking to the pots but he knew it was a folly task before it began. It was more to give her something to do to get her out of the way. But he did notice something while she was talking to them that was for the better. She had been doing this a long time and now it was time for her to show even more of what she could do.
The stiffened and ridged doctor finally lifted a hand to her chin to get a better look into her eyes. Such a beautiful shade of fear was in them today, almost as if he could soak it or collect it from her tear ducts. But this was his way of controlling her, As long as he had her by the shin she couldn’t make a move to do anything else. “Miss Glass.” He acknowledged her, even if she did happen to use the shortened version of his name. “You do enjoy speaking don’t you?” He asked almost rhetorically, not giving her a chance to respond before he rolled his fingers on her chin and moved on. “You’ve seen enough of the business I’m involved in to know what simply is and isn’t by now with what I do. I am a man of few words….as my fellow professionals are those of many unfortunately. Mine is a language they simply cannot understand….You however…..They may be more inclined.” He posted the suggestion to her without actually asking her, but he believed her to be smart enough to figure it out. He needed someone to be his face value out there and she seemed to be the perfect choice.
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