Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow
"and at the end of fear...Oblivion"
Player: Jon ~
Registered On: Feb 15, 2012 20:39:14 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 941
~ Relationship Status: Won't Say I'm In Love
~ Partner: Fear
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Post by Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow on Mar 25, 2014 17:05:52 GMT -5
Dr. Crane was all too aware that the person that could end all of this was now very upset with him. Wrongly so, as she had no idea what was going on. How could he ever expect her to understand something so beautifully complex? But it was too early; right now he was trying to keep the raging bull tame. The only red in the room was coming from his jaw, he had put it in a little deeper than he’d originally intended, but it wasn’t lethal.
He was acutely aware of each movement Edward made on his step up to him and the abrupt stop at his form made him roll his bottom lip under. Edward’s stare might have been looking passed him but there was something in it that Dr. Crane could see without a doubt. He saw the intent in his eyes, whatever he planned to do right now was not the end of Dr. Crane hearing of it. He felt his pocket become heavy and he took a deep breath to steady his body from shifting as he got his phone. Edward was working and Dr. Crane had been placed on the backburner.
But he did enjoy watching Edward work. Even if it was pointless and meaningless with the things he often went after. It was the way he worked, the fear that drove him that caused Dr. Crane to look and keep looking. If there was something else….Whatever this was, it couldn’t be described properly.
The oxygen came back into his lungs properly when he stepped away but he already saw that Edward was nearly finished with what he was doing. Dr. Stenet was trying to get away but as that perfect shrill echoed off the box around them he knew she wasn’t going anywhere. The short woman that always followed Dr. Stenet everywhere had been caught by Edward’s hand. His plans were quickly changing in front of him, but with all of them being occupied he saw an opportunity. He had no idea what was on the cellphone but it was enough to get her attention.
The rush was still there from the cry that had echoed against his bones. He came away from the clear wall he leaned against and slipped his hands into his pockets. His eyes were focused on Edward like a wolf to prey outside of its den. With all of them being trapped together, there was no more room for mistakes. He did a circle around the back of Edward and then dropped to the floor. His hands came out of his pockets and he used the momentum of the drop to hoist himself back up and around to attempt to kick the gun from the girls hands. The slide caused him to come up slightly away from her and then walk backward away from the scene. ”This…This is what you’re here for..” An unstable tone in his voice began to fill the box. The doctor opened his arms to what seemed to be nothing but to him it was the truth that blinded him so. ”Thirteen……Twelve….Eleven…” He began to count with the mental clock he’d had in his mind since Miss Glass had pushed the lever. It was all about to become painfully clear.
Slowly, Dr. Crane had stopped counting but the clock was still there in his mind. Panels above the black had come down, they were large, black, and thick cut slabs of what looked to be magnets. It resembled closely to something he’s show Dr. Stenet a long time ago. The investment of Penguins money had went into the scarebeast, but this….This was special for her….For them. He turned his head just in time to look at Edward and beckon him forward. ”You don’t want to be over there….”
An ear shattering scream along with an immense sense of vertigo hit the entire box.
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Post by Heather Glass - VerMillion on Mar 25, 2014 18:58:01 GMT -5
Having pushed the lever, Heather simply stands there and broods for a moment, but then she almost reluctantly decides that perhaps she ought to keep an eye on what's going on even if she doesn't really want to. As confident as she generally is in Jon's ability to handle himself, it occasionally gets very messy even when he does get out of it in one piece and she knows what the lever she just threw does. She should probably wait by it so that Jon can tell her to push it the other way if and when he wants her to.
But that doesn't mean that she's happy to do so - no, if anything she can't stop replaying what she just saw in her head over and over again, and each time adds a little bit more fuel to the fire. In fact, she's finding herself impatiently waiting for whatever's happening to be over so that she can... what? Talk to Jon? She doesn't even know what to say. But something.
Her attention finally shifting away from herself, she locates Jon in the room and notes that the two women have traded places, which actually makes her calmer, all things considered - the short blonde seems to be the more violent one, after all. And either way, it appears that she's being ignored by everyone now.
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Deleted Member
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Registered On: May 4, 2024 2:50:53 GMT -5 ~
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Last Edit: Mar 29, 2014 22:52:32 GMT -5 by Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Mar 29, 2014 22:51:59 GMT -5
Edward had paid no head to the short woman who he had in his grips, his eyes solely focused on the woman in front of him, keeping note of the fury that seemed to be burning behind them. It almost pleased him to see that anger, to know he was the cause of it. She deserved to feel much worse than anger, he wanted to see rage, disappointment, and most importantly a sense of hopelessness, but that would all be in time. For now, he would take her anger, and it fueled him forward, even if her words were numb and robotic like most of her actions.
He wasn’t surprise by her words. The phrase “No negotiating with terrorist” was an understatement for her. She truly cared for no one, but herself and having control over her own power. It was somewhat pathetic that she didn’t even care for her mother’s own life because in 24 hours she would likely be dead, unless the JLA somehow got involved, but why would they care about a random civilian.
Obviously, he couldn’t state his intentions, and if she didn’t understand his exact plan, that could only be blamed on her. He held the phone up for a moment longer, his stare focused, as his lips moved slowly to form two words, not speaking them, merely mouthing them, “You’re choice.” God, it was exhausting to do. His mind seemed to battle with the movements, even when he wasn’t speaking. He suspected writing would be impossible. His grip tightened out of anger in of the situation. Edward loved his voice, he loved talking, he loved to gloat his victories, he loved to share his brilliant strategies to the world, but now, he was forced to be treated like a mute.
He would have kept his gaze on the evil woman before him, but the Scarecrow’s dark voice started counting down. His head turned back to him, his face reading an expression that said, are you seriously doing this now? There were too many pieces in the air, and Edward was scrambling to get them into place. He couldn’t trap the woman into a corner if he had an obnoxious crow making noise in the background. And yes, that exactly how Edward saw the Scarecrow at the moment. An annoyance. An annoyance that he had brought onto himself by foolishly believing that the man could possibly be trusted. Trust was a lie that he would never again fall trap to. He knew if there was a countdown then the Scarecrow had something planned, and he suspected it had something to do with the lever the red head had pulled. He glanced to the lever, trying to see what it was connected to. This had been planned a long time ago. Edward could see that now. Scarecrow had wanted him, the red head, and the woman here. This was the plan that the Scarecrow had been hinted at since that first incident in the hotel room. He had always known he had been planning something. He knew, and for that reason he had tried to get rid of the woman. Ironic, the action to prevent this from happening had brought him full circle to it.
He sighed taking one last glance at the woman outside of the room before the large slab enclosed them, cutting her from his sight. It didn’t matter, the message had been received, either she would fix him, or her mother would die. Simple, as that. Now, it was time to turn his attention back to the man who feared his own emotions.
He pushed the short woman away. He would have liked to be somewhat clothed instead of shamble he was currently in. His chest still exposed, and his pants barely on. As he moved a bit quickly towards the Scarecrow, he fixed that first, adjusting his pants, before running his hand through his hair to make it more presentable. He might not be able to speak, but that didn’t mean he wanted to look like some pathetic average citizen who was hostage to two maniacs. He could feel the blood dripping from his throat on down his chest. His finger went up to touch the wound, when he arrived at the lanky man’s side. The Scarecrow didn’t need to beckon him. He would have gone towards him without the statement. Edward wasn’t a fool. If the Scarecrow was inside the room, then whatever was going to happen would not be affecting the Scarecrow, so logically, it was better to be in that bubble of protection.
When the scream echoed through the room, Edward’s eyes widened, his hands went to his ears, covering them. People called Edward dramatic, but compared to the other criminals, he thought he was tame. He didn’t feel the need to add suspense with music or listen to people scream. It just made his headache worse. He really needed a tootsie pop…or a drink…a hard drink.
But once again, he was playing the waiting game. His eyes glanced around the room to see what the effect of the box was having on the blond in the box. What is the goal of this nonsense? It had something to do with fear. It always had to do with fear. He was predictable like that, but part of him saw this as something much more personal because little plan wasn’t set into motion until they had their little moment in the dingy motel room. He turned and looked at the Scarecrow. He appeared to be in his element. He had to admit the man was an emotionless rock, but when he worked, he was so engaged….almost happy. He smirked. He knew how to tilt him off balance. He would put up with the rumors to get out of this nonsense.
He risked his eardrums, and reached out, grabbing the Scarecrow’s tie. Without warning he yanked his lips against his, kissing him roughly.
Elsewhere in the United States, Floyd sat in an old dumpy apartment with well-worn furniture and a broken heater. His television played a rerun of Seinfeld, but it kept cutting in and out. He slurped in one of the noodles of his ramen, watching the TV with some focus. After finally getting out of the Suicide Squad and not having Waller breathing down his neck like some hiked up pit-bull, he was enjoying just having some type of freedom, even if it renting a dumpy apartment in the Bronx. Nonetheless, he didn’t like the idea of slumming it on the streets when he couldn’t pay rent next month. He needed something. A woman who cheated. A man who stepped on too many toes. A senator. The President. He didn’t care, he needed a little cash. Even Raman Noodles get old after the hundredth one.
His laptop beeped from his desk. He slurped in the last of the noodle, placed the cup down and walked to the computer. He opened up his email account and saw one from his hacker buddy of his from an assignment way back. It read:
Hey Floyd,
Heard things are a bit rough for ya at the moment, this just popped up on the dark web, thought you’d be interested. The Riddler paying 2 million for this woman below. Did some research, she’s out in Northern California. Seems fairly normal, but if the Riddler wants her dead, somethings up. Good luck, buddy. At least take a shower before we run into each other again.
Floyd looked over the email. He had been a mess, but with 2 million that could change a guy’s life around. He didn’t particularly like working with anyone in Gotham. Harley had been…okay, but the rest of them were just freaks. He couldn’t argue with the amount. He did some research of his own before buying the next flight out to San Francisco.
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Nina Stenet
"Great acts are made up of small deeds." - Lao Tzu
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Player: Avalikia ~
Registered On: Nov 4, 2010 0:01:40 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 696
~ Relationship Status: Single
~ Character Profile
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Post by Nina Stenet on Apr 1, 2014 16:56:59 GMT -5
Edward is such an idiot. Does he not realize what he's doing? He's only asking her for to do worse! She charged him her price for the harm that he caused her before, and now he wants to do more to her? Does he foolishly assume that he has no more to lose? It's fortunate for him that she can't be sure what the threat to her mother is and when it would be carried out - perhaps she has some time. It's only that uncertainty which holds her back, for now.
Hopefully something can be done - but if not, she's already proved that she can find Edward without any help. Well, she technically had Crane's help, but she knew to try asking him and knows that Edward wasn't expecting that. And Crane was only one of the options for finding Edward, so even if he stops trusting the man that doesn't mean that Edward will be safe from whatever else she may do to him later. And if something happens to her mother, there will be a 'later'. The words on his lips - she avoids noting to herself how impressive it is that he's able to form them - prompt a look of contempt from her as she says, "My choice? You're the one who keeps poking the dragon, Edward."
Her eyes don't leave Edward until his shift, bringing her attention to the fact that Crane counting down to something. It causes her to glance around herself, suspecting a trap, though there doesn't appear to be anything happening in the hallway where she is - and would there be if the girl Crane kidnapped is here? Or is the room that Crane is in the safe place? Since she already is where she is, she decides to back completely away from the doorway, though she's keenly aware that Shawty is still in there.
And Shawty is quite unhappy to be in there with these guys. And it keeps getting even better, because while her focus is on getting out of Mr. Nigma's grip, Crane is nice enough kick her gun out of her hands. She watches it slide across the floor. Great, now she's unarmed in a room with these guys. Renewing her effort to get away from Mr. Nigma, he finally lets her go - she doesn't know why he grabbed her in the first place, since she's worthless here. Free to move, her first instinct is to get as far away from the two men as possible, and fortunately her gun is in that direction too. Jerk. She picks it up but immediately tucks it into her waistband - she likes her gun and doesn't want to leave it, but she also knows that it wouldn't be a good idea to have it out at the moment.
Unfortunately for the young woman, between her struggle with Mr. Nigma and her focus on retrieving her weapon, she doesn't have much of a change to more than worriedly look at the black slabs before... Reflexes take over and she's covering her ears before she really realizes what's happening, and when she does realize what's happening she gets the distinct feeling that the room is spinning and she's spinning herself but in the wrong direction. "Leave!" she shouts, as if trying to command the very sensations now assaulting her body, crouching down even as her inability to keep herself balanced forces her to fall over - she's going to fall over either way, but the closer to the ground she is when it happens, the better. There she lets herself lay curled, keeping her arms over her ears and trying desperately to hang onto her lunch.
Meanwhile, Nina watches in concern at what's happening to Shawty, but recognizes that the word was intended for her. She can't help but glance at the girl by the lever - wouldn't that be the control? But she only entertains the thought for an instant before she decides to do what Shawty said - she turns and goes with all due haste toward the exit. Yes, she's willing to leave Shawty behind - it's not like they're attached at the hip, after all, and she trusts that the girl wouldn't have told her to leave if she didn't figure the odds were better that way.
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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 Apr 2, 2014 14:46:53 GMT -5
The outside of the box wasn’t affected by the power of the scream being filtered into the box. As it pulsed through the speakers it began to wave and resonates, causing multiple distortions. One would feel a strong presence of vertigo pairs with light headedness and a terrible nausea to follow. But it wasn’t all this device could do. It was just warming up as he had shown Dr. Stenet all that time ago in front of the blonde that previous didn’t care. She was now about to understand just how much she should have paid attention to his every word.
His eyes had turned from Edward, whom he had beckoned forth and up to his brilliance that he had created. There was nothing there, nothing but the sound piercing the ears of everyone in the room but Dr. Crane seemed enthralled, he seemed in a trace with it, unable to be pulled away by anything. It was just him and his creation. But as he savored he felt Edward come up behind him, he turned in time to see him approaching. The distraction to phase two gave him just long enough to assist him with what he need. But he found himself in vertigo of his own.
Dr. Crane had not moved but his body had. He found himself a spark in a tank of oxygen when his lips collided with Edward’s in such a form that demanded the moment’s attention. It didn’t matter that his plan had gone awry and the wrong people were in the wrong places. It didn’t matter that his efforts to have Dr. Stenet fix Edward were neigh in vain or that Miss Glass had seen far more than she should have. None of that was relevant anymore, at least for this one moment. This one…glorious…moment. Edward had him locked in this abrasive kiss but to what end? To what motive was he holding him here? Was his kiss to prove what he had just established between them? Or was it a promise? A promise to destroy him.
When he realized that He had not moved on what he needed to the doctor slipped his hand to Edward’s chest and pushed him enough to break the kiss. His free hand went to his pants pocket to draw out a bright orange solution in a short metal needle. His eyes were locked on Edward, searching his eyes for the truth in his newly found questions. In proving what he did earlier….Was it possible? Did he prove that he was….wrong? The thought caused him to visibly shake as before but he cast it aside and pushed the needle to Edward’s bare skin near the top of his spine. He injected him fully with the solution, leaving none for the now, real subject in the room.
She would be his catalyst, his rope into the next part of his glorious discovery. By now her heart would have reached its capacity for its rate, speeding like she would break at any moment into an attack. In turn Edward’s would be slowing and his world would be coming to a distorted halt. The drug did have a bit of interesting side effects, the world moved slower and drug as if it would smeared across a piece of paper…like the blood on his skin. His eardrums were no longer feeling the ache from the scream but now humming in rhythm with his body’s new found cycle the drug was creating in him. It was a harmony in ring to the sound that was emitting.
As the sweet symphony washed over him his head rolled back and came forward again. He had it...right here. It was all out in front of him and Edward was here to bear witness to his perfect triumph. He wouldn't accept defeat....It was triumph. And the angels sang so sweetly in his ears. The world fell away from them at that moment. It was only the brilliant hymn and Edward there with him, the rest of the world had gone away. His hand trickled to Edward's collar, dropping the syringe from his hand. He pulled him close and drew his lips to his own. Edward's breath felt cool against his cheeks....What was? He brought his left hand up and wiped it across his cheek to see the stain of tears left on his fingers. His creation was too beautiful for words.
It was affecting him in a way that would forever be beyond mortal words. There would be nothing that is more precious in this moment. Alas, he wanted it to last forever but he knew that it couldn’t. He pushed Edward away from him to break the kiss, not hard, but just enough to force him to break it. His eyes caught Edward’s again in that moment, no longer trying to wipe the stains from his eyes. There was no need to. He moved away from him and stepped further into the brilliance of his creation. Each step he took brought him closer to the line between the barrier of oblivion and the world as he knew it.
The doctor could see Miss Glass standing there on the outside. It was unfortunate she couldn’t be a part of this. He had always intended to have her be the one that was on the ground to receive his “mercy”. What a perfect gift he had in mind for her since the first time he had talked to her in her newly placed bedroom. It was a loss that had no room to be mourned here….He turned from her sight and lifted his gaze back to the ceiling. It was almost as if he could see something that no one else could. His arms raised out to his sides and upward toward whatever he was gazed upon. No one knew but him and it was something that he would selfishly bare….but not in vain…
His arms came down and he turned to the blonde woman trying to get ahold of herself on the floor. By now her heart attack like symptoms would have subsided into a pace of what she was experiencing in her own mind. The screaming now buffered in her ears had given her a bout of her own sanity. It brought to her what was real and true in her mind, her greatest fears brought to life through the audio in her mind. Sounds that no one could hear but her, voices that would tell her what to do and what not to do. It was a split of herself and her fear, constantly fighting for dominance over which plane of reality she would continue to exist on. Her mind was in a preverbal chaos of terror.
But there was only one way through it….to embrace it. The doctor crouched down beside her and offered her his hand. ”Succumb to me” He said to her, but she never heard it. She would only see his lips move but the understanding would be there. A path in the midst of discord. He savored each moment he had here with her, knowing that Edward was still in the room and saved from what was going on. He had spared him it, only to bear witness to his gift to him.
He had wrote him a poem.
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Post by Heather Glass - VerMillion on Apr 2, 2014 17:03:29 GMT -5
Though the exchange between the Riddler and Dr. Stenet is observed, Heather is paying far more attention to Jon. Because she can't not pay attention to Jon. Jon, who has been the cause of so much crap, whether it was directly from him or whether it was from someone else but because of what he did. But she hadn't minded it - not really. Not the loss of her job, her friends and family, the comforts she's once enjoyed, her mind and body, her sense of security and well-being - she's given up all of them for Jon. Has it all been for nothing?
The question haunts her as she watches Jon, pain and anger in her expression. She's almost oblivious to the rest of what's happening in the box. The blonde girl doesn't matter to her as long as Jon's not telling her to fight her for a gun. There's a nervous moment when Dr. Stenet looks in her direction, but then the woman leaves and it appears that her worries are probably over now. Well, except for Jon - always Jon.
When the Riddler grabs Jon into another kiss, Heather feels a fresh stab of hurt in her heart, though it's dulled somewhat when she sees Jon react by pushing the man away. Not enough, though, not enough... She tries to distract herself by watching what's going on with Shawty. While Jon hasn't exactly 'converted' her over to his way of thinking, though on occasion she's been known to give it lip service, she does find what he does interesting to watch - especially since this is something new. If he's used this thing on a person before, it wasn't when she was around.
But trying to distract herself proves futile because of what Jon does next. No, she doesn't mind at all if Jon wants to inject the Riddler with things, now it's Jon kissing the Riddler again. Her expression contorts and she moves restlessly, though she doesn't bother trying to object this time. She doesn't want to see this. She doesn't want to be here. But she should probably stay... But why should she stay? Wrestling with her thoughts for a moment, she finally turns to go back to her room. She doesn't want to be here, and it doesn't look like Jon even cares that she's here, so she might as well leave.
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Registered On: May 4, 2024 2:50:53 GMT -5 ~
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Post by Deleted on Apr 2, 2014 21:52:43 GMT -5
His hands cupped Dr. Crane’s face, holding him in a powerful kiss, his mouth taking control over his in attempts to throw him off whatever little plan his was trying to execute at the moment. Edward was tired of not being in control of his surroundings. Edward didn’t play the pawn. He moved the pieces, and he wouldn’t allow people like Dr. Stenet and Dr. Crane to control or manipulate his moves. When he felt the push on his chest, he merely pulled him closer, ignoring it, until the man forced their lips apart.
His eyes met his icy blue ones with a serious and focus look. Whatever had pulled Edward towards this man physically had died the moment that woman had open the door. He had no interest in any type of relationship with him. He had no interest in exploring the bag of worms. The man had never been his friend, but he had respected him, and in some ways trusted him. The trust had been brutally broken, and the one thing Edward never forgave was someone who broke his trust that he rarely ever offered. Jonathan was dead to him, and all he saw in front of him was the Scarecrow.
It was interesting though because what he saw in Dr. Crane’s eyes was something that he would call hope, hope that the tension between them could be something unique that only belonged to them. Edward planned to break that hope the same way Dr. Crane had broken his trust. His eyes caught sight of the needle. It wasn’t unusual for the man to have a needle of some type of liquid. He kept his eyes cautiously on it, knowing that the Scarecrow planned to use it on one of the people in the room.
It was interesting to watch, even with the ruckus scream in the background. Jonathan almost appeared to be in a middle of an orgasm with how his eyes glazed over and features softened into acceptance. It made Edward glance at the woman crumpled on the ground in pain. He really didn’t care. He was indifferent to everything, except for items that affected him, primarily getting out of here to solve the medical issues, the crazy woman had brought on him. The woman was foolishly stubborn, and because of her stubbornness her mother would die and her assistant would be driven to madness. It baffled him how truly terrible a person Dr. Stenet was, and how he had ever saw anything interesting in her. He needed to get out of here.
A sharp prick went into his spine, and he jerked backwards, realizing he had just been pricked with some unknown drug. His eyes widened in horror, as his hand went to the back of his neck. God, damnit!! Could he not get a break! He shot Dr. Crane a glare, but the man seemed hardly focused on him.
Edward felt heavy and his breathing deepened. He stumbled slightly, the weight of his body becoming too hard to hold. He could feel his heart in his chest moving slower and everything around him seeming to move by hours, except for his breathing. His brain felt light as if there wasn’t enough blood to keep it working at the speed it was used to.
“What the…” he said breathlessly, gripping onto Dr. Crane’s arm to steady himself. His words shocked him, as if he had just come upon Santa. “I can talk,” he said, a small smirk pulling on his face, even though as he spoke, it felt as if the words took forever to travel across the room.
He didn’t have a chance to comprehend anything before Jonathan’s lips were once again on top of his. It felt all consuming because each touch of his lips seemed to last hours upon hours. His hands went up to the man’s side to push him away, to do something to get back in control, but the time they finally reached there, Jonathan had ran off somewhere, leaving him empty.
Edward stared blankly. He could catch how important all of this nonsense was to the Scarecrow, but to him….it was pointless. He ran his hand through his own hair almost lazily before falling back against a wall. It was all too slow, and he was so tired, and god, can’t that screaming just stop!! He let gravity take him, and his body slid down to the floor.
“Scarecrow,” he tasted the words on his lips, “Must…I be here for this?”
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Nina Stenet
"Great acts are made up of small deeds." - Lao Tzu
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Player: Avalikia ~
Registered On: Nov 4, 2010 0:01:40 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 696
~ Relationship Status: Single
~ Character Profile
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Post by Nina Stenet on Apr 4, 2014 21:49:03 GMT -5
With her arms pressed hard over her ears and her eyes closed to weaken the sensation of spinning as much as possible, Shawty tries to simply drown out all sensation - to remove her mind to another, calmer place while her body endures what it must. And having perhaps a bit more ability to do that than most, for a time she succeeds. The quality of the sounds and sensations that assault her changes, and she feels her heart start to race, but still she finds that deep and peaceful spot within herself to retreat to. Are they going to kill her now that Dr. Stenet is gone? Maybe. She hopes not, but maybe, and she accepts that much already - it's not enough to destroy her calm.
But then she finds that it isn't enough. It doesn't matter that her eyes are closed, she's lost all sensation of where she is in space and time - instead her mind starts to wander. And it doesn't matter that she's covering her ears - the screams seem to pierce deeply into her soul and there's no place in her mind deep enough to hide from it as it awakens everything she's kept so deeply buried. A pained whine comes from her throat as even the safety of her own mind is breached, and she's flooded with so many memories...
Her mind has erupted into an urban war zone. Not since she was a little child has she had the luxury of fearing all those little things like spiders that aren't based on reality. No, she's spent too many days fearing what the true dangers of her world have been: guns, knives, bigger and stronger people, groups of people, criminals, cops, and the absence of money. She's young, but she's seen a lot of violence in her day, and she hardly faced it without fear.
In fact, her instinct when faced with fear is to fight it - to hold it in check while she does what must be done. As determined as she is to not lose her grip on reality, it starts to slip. And that shows on the surface as she begins to twitch - to the untrained eye it could easily be mistaken for a seizure, but the movements are too random for even that as in her mind's eye she attempts to fight or dodge everything that's attacking her, though the visions in front of her eyes switch too quickly for her to really complete a movement when another one appears to be needed even as she makes the first.
But there is still one bit of defiance left in her - she doesn't scream. She whimpers, she moans, she gasps, and she shudders as each scene passes in front of her eyes and floods her ears, but her jaw is clenched tightly. Though the increasing frequency of her movements indicates that it's wearing on her, she's also quick to notice that there's brief glimpses of things she knows are real even though reality isn't exactly the most pleasant place either right now. Nevertheless, she clings to them - she doesn't want to be in the room with Crane and Mr. Nigma, but she also doesn't want to be in the constant struggles for her life that her mind is creating for her either even if the former is probably only a little less dangerous.
She sees, but doesn't see, that Crane has moved before her - his hand offered, though she can't hear his words. It takes her a moment to be sure, but yes that's real. It takes her even longer to decide what to do with that among the other chaos of her mind, but though it takes her some moments to do so because the movement is interrupted by more twitching, she eventually grabs hold of his hand in a firm but trembling grip.
Outside of the building, Nina is fortunately blissfully ignorant of her assistant's situation. If she'd known that would happen, would she have still left? Probably, though it would have been harder and her thoughts would be more clouded now as she ponders a different problem than the fate of her assistant. She trusts that whatever happens to Shawty, if the girl lives through it then she'll be able to handle it. And if not, well, she knows how the young woman feels about dying for her even if that's a deeply disturbing thought to Nina - better to assume that she'll be okay.
What isn't okay is Edward's threat against her mother. Which was... well, not the sort of thing that is outside the realm of things that she knew Edward might do, but she's rather disappointed in him for making that choice and understandably anxious about her mother's well-being. She'd have hoped that he could have kept things between the two of them - that's what she'd wanted all along. Then again, he's the one that dragged someone who should have been outside the conflict between them into it first, so she sees no reason why what she does next isn't perfectly fair.
Not wanting to linger near the building, she heads down the sidewalk and keeps an eye out for an available taxi to hail as she pulls out her phone. The number she dials is a relatively new addition to it, and she can't say that it holds her full confidence, but that's not because she's worried that he's incapable of helping. It's more... simply the fact that she'd really rather she didn't need it. But as that feeling isn't nearly as strong as her desire to do something better than simply calling up her mother and telling her... what? What sort of warning could she give that's more likely than not to help?
When the phone picks up on the other end, Nina says, "Hello, Mr. Luthor? Sorry to call you so abruptly, but I've just finished that personal project. As expected, I'm fine, but he's threatened my mother..." And though she hasn't exactly told Lex what she was going to do, she also hasn't exactly avoided giving him more than enough hints about it for him to know exactly what she's talking about.
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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 Apr 19, 2014 10:23:30 GMT -5
The thought of Miss Glass had never completely left his mind, although he was very distracted by Edward. Edward had always provided a distraction from the things that he needed to do. Sometimes he thought that he enjoyed being that distraction a bit too much. It didn’t make any sense for him to be so obsessed with trying to pull his attention away. But he knew it couldn’t be that way as much as his lips caused him to doubt. Edward had wanted something and he had always had an agenda. The stabbing of Dr. Stenet, the visits to his home and constant provoking, Edward had wanted to ruin what he was trying to do with him. In the long run, he only harmed himself.
There would come a time when he could explain this to Miss Glass, although she had already seen most of it herself. The problem would come in the depth of her ability to understand what was between Edward and him. What was between them? If left up to Edward’s current mouth he knew he’d say that there isn’t anything between them and Dr. Crane would confirm it and say the same, but would it have been the truth? He didn’t have words for exactly what was between them and if anyone tried to put words to it, it simply wouldn’t be enough to explain it.
Edward was experiencing a euphoria that not many had experienced before, only lab rats to be specific and a few stray hamsters that had made it his way. He wasn’t sure how many Bobby’s he had gone through at this point as he lost count around six. They paved the way for what he was experiencing now. It was almost as fascinating of a result as what he knew the sound would do to Dr. Stenet’s young assistant. Unfortunately, it was never meant for her. Everything was so backwards but he couldn’t deny that he was getting exactly what he wanted and now Edward had exactly what he lost. His voice was almost music to his ears as it joined in harmony with the scream, but he still wouldn’t call him by his name anymore.
For as much as Dr. Crane had insisted that he had in the past a twinge of regret hit him and quickly passed. It would just go back to how it should have been. He knew that he was too drugged to officially appreciate the fact that he could talk, but it was never meant to do such a thing, it was a fortunate side effect for him and he knew that he would want more of it before it was all over. The doctor wasn’t beyond putting addictive properties in his substances, stimulants drove reaction.
But what had fallen upon his attention was a small fragile human begin that coward on his floor, at the mercy of his new experiment. She was at the mercy of something she should have never been subjected to and she only had Dr. Stenet to blame. “ The safety and comfort of the world has abandoned you….as if it was never there…but the sanctity of your fear has not… It has come to make you whole.”. He pulled her up and into his grasp. His fingers immediately cupped her face when she stood and stared deeply down into her eyes. It was as if his mind was able to plunge into them like pools of water and sink to the very bottom.
The wanted to be the last thing she saw before she fell apart and became drenched in a sea of fear. He wanted to be the last thing she saw before she was unable to come back from the depth of insanity her mind was being pushed to. He opened his mouth to speak again but a voice cut him off. His eyes narrowed and he looked back to Edward whom had interrupted his search into her eyes for wanting to leave. He knew he would be feeling good right about this moment. “Hush. He quieted him simply and looked back to the short woman in his hands.
Her face was upturned toward his, she seemed so reliant upon him to get to where she needed to be, to pass into the plain of understanding that only he could know. But now she could share it, and she would be his first. It was never supposed to be that way….But here she was. She would finally see what he was able to see, fear in all things….In everything….Every waking moment that her eyes could see. It was beautiful….It was artwork. But it wasn’t her poem…and it wasn’t written for her…He rolled his lips under at the thought and kept her close to his side. The doctor was able to turn with her enough to see Edward and Miss Glass standing outside of the box beyond them. The screams in his ears from the sound caused such a chorus…such an elaborate masterpiece it brought tears to his eyes
A rare sight.
“ Turn it off Miss Glass… He asked her and tried to lead the frantic woman closer to Edward with her remaining attached to his body. " Of course you have to be here "Nigma" This is my sonnet to you..." He almost laughed at his inability to comprehend all that he had done....All that he had done for him.
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Post by Heather Glass - VerMillion on Apr 22, 2014 21:22:50 GMT -5
Already halfway on her way to her room, Heather suddenly finds herself halted by Jon abruptly saying something to her. And it really, really ticks her off. She's angry at herself for letting that stop her, and she's angry that all Jon has to say to her is an order for her to move the damn lever again. And she's even more angry at herself for going back to the damn lever and turning the thing off. Though the moment she's done, she immediately retraces her steps and starts heading for her room again. This time she makes it the whole way there and slams her door behind herself.
Not that she expects Jon to notice or care that she's upset right now, and she certainly doesn't care about whatever he's doing. Maybe if she hadn't seen what she just saw she would care about it - if only because he does - but no. She has far more important things on her mind than some sort of performance poem thing. How could she possibly see any sort of beauty in it right now?
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Deleted Member
Deleted
Registered On: May 4, 2024 2:50:53 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 0
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Post by Deleted on Jun 1, 2014 23:56:39 GMT -5
Edward’s half naked form sat on the floor, his head falling back onto the wall. He had a goofy smile on his face as he watched the room spin around him. The Scarecrow and his hallucinogens. Edward had gotten high once in his life on acid back in college. He never thought the next time would be because of a crazed mad man obsessed with fear drugging him after allowing his pycho ex-girlfriend to take away his ability to speak and fuck, to put it simply, since right now, he felt like putting things simply.
For example, he pointed at the red head who was pouting and running away. “Stupid,” he stated. His hand moved slowly as he pointed at the small child woman, screaming on the ground. “Stupid,” he started to laugh, bringing his finger to point at the thin man. “Stupid. Everyone’s stupid!” he giggled like a little school boy. He pressed his hands to his face, rubbing them up and down his features trying to snap some sense and logic back. He eventually gave up. His hands dropped back to his side and he stared at his feet. No socks. No Shoes. No shirt. Damn, he wouldn’t be able get service today. He chuckled again to himself. He had his pants though. He loved these pants. He ran his hand up and down the expensive green fabric.
“I love green. Riddle me this, what has a thumb and four fingers but is not alive?” he whispered in awe as his eyes fell to his hands again.
He heard his name and shot his focus up to the Scarecrow. He was so mad at him. Why was he mad at him? The drug induced formula seemed to be getting more intense with every moment. The man was speaking so slowly. He could hear every click of his tongue and pop of his lips. Sonnet? Edward laughed harder. He wasn’t mad. No, he felt fucking great right now! The blue in the man’s eyes was leaking down his face and streaming into his shirt onto the ground. It was quite pretty.
He could feel an annoying pinch in the back of his mind, like something was shouting for his attention. It was probably that logic coming back to play. He pointed at the Scarecrow again, “I don’t want your sonnet,” he tried to state seriously, but ended up slurring the words. “What belongs to you, but is use more by others?”
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Nina Stenet
"Great acts are made up of small deeds." - Lao Tzu
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Player: Avalikia ~
Registered On: Nov 4, 2010 0:01:40 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 696
~ Relationship Status: Single
~ Character Profile
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Post by Nina Stenet on Jun 2, 2014 0:51:10 GMT -5
At the pull on her arm, Shawty reacts as if she's trying to pull against the motion, but as her grip on his hand remains firm that has no effect but to yank the man's arm a little, but probably not enough to bother him in the least. Again she finds herself swallowed up in unreality, searching the distorted landscape for what's truly there and attempting to ignore what's not. When a hand suddenly cups her face, she can't help but scream in frightened surprise, and her free hand grabs hold of his wrist before tightly clinging to it and this seems to stabilize her for a moment as she once again clamps her jaw tightly.
Though her eyes are largely unfocused, darting this way and that to follow what is seen only by her. And yet there's a flicker of a moment where they focus directly on him and there's a flash of anger behind them, but just as quickly they dart away to look at something else only she can see. She's fighting hard, but her grasp on reality is slipping rapidly through her fingertips - she may be strong-willed and very stubborn, but this feat is simply beyond her. And when she loses her hold completely, what then? Dark, winding paths with no end lie stretched before her, inviting her into a maze with no exit.
A particular trait of the body and mind is that it seeks out a point of stability. Not mental stability, as evidenced by those who have mental problems that last a lifetime, but at the same time it's unnatural for anything to remain in a constant state of flux. But with the landscape of her mind so suddenly and completely altered, it's only to be expected that it will take some time before it resettles into whatever normal means to her now.
But for now she's rapidly becoming disconnected with her surroundings, hardly aware that Crane is moving her, let alone which direction. Lost and becoming even more lost in her mind, the sounds of her inner fight continue and get worse - the irregular sound of her breath and the whimpers from her lips become more pressing and desperate, though the grip of her hands on the man responsible for this remain firm.
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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 21, 2014 13:26:54 GMT -5
He couldn’t be bothered with what Heather couldn’t understand right now. He couldn’t be bothered with her angry stares that she used to mask the fear that was festering inside. It wasn’t that it couldn’t hold his attention, there was just something far bigger going on at the moment. It was a plan gone awry but came out so beautifully in the end. It didn’t seem to matter what happened to his work, in the end it always came out flawless.
The agitated woman he was holding continued to struggle, though less than before. Gently and easily he was able to move his hands around her and then into her hair to grip tightly. He wasn’t trying to copy Edward and what he did to hold the woman, instead his grip was firm, but he wasn’t attempting to harm her. He had no reason to harm her or hold her to the same purpose that Edward had. This experiment was about more than that and it needed to now be contained. So while he handled her he kept the same glossed expression, stone faced with no emotion or sympathy for her plight what so ever. There wasn’t any sympathy to be had, and there never would be. While holding her firm he slid one hand under her jaw and drug her to the table Edward was once on. With his hand firmly placed on her hip he attempted to shove her onto it, and secure straps.
Dr. Crane was well prepared and ready to use a sedative on her if he had to. That was the last thing he wanted to do while she was experiencing the after effect of the experiment. She would be coming down off of it but her world would still be drenched in the experience. Her come off of it would be slow and agonizing for her, but it was so beautiful from here. He would contain and control her for now so every last moment could be recorded. By the time she would come down, perhaps she would be too tired to stay awake anyway and he wouldn’t have to administer any drugs at all.
Edward was speaking the entire time and he was listening to him babble along. Dr. Crane turned his head to see him, half naked and leaned against the glass on the floor. The man looked to be drenched in sweat from his experience, a fever pitching from the drug that he had given him. It was a normal response and nothing that would damage him permanently. Again he had a riddle for him, and it wasn’t difficult to decipher from the way it was worded and how he glanced at his hands. “Your gloves are back at the Hotel.”He reminded him casually while he was attempting to put the straps on the fighting woman.
But what Edward said had caught his attention. He didn’t want it? The man had begged for this sonnet, he had went to the edges of oblivion with him to try and bring his attention for a pause long enough to actually hear him for the first time and Edward had been heard. Now when the favor was returned, out of his eliment Edward wanted to pretend as if it never was? Perhaps it never was. But he would let it go to waste? His work? His research? He thought Edward to be a smarter man than that.
His last words caught his attention again and he was able to pause with her wrists in his hands. “Is that what you want?” He understood the riddle immediately. “Say it…” He demanded the answer to the riddle that he already knew. He wanted him to call out his name.
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Deleted Member
Deleted
Registered On: May 4, 2024 2:50:53 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 0
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Post by Deleted on Jul 6, 2014 20:27:29 GMT -5
Oh yes, the hotel!! He forgot they were in the hotel, and that’s why he was half naked. What had he been planning on doing? Oh yes, convincing Jonathan to take out Robin, oh and how was he returned, with the she devil. “Fuck you, Jonathan,” he mumbled to himself, pouting out his lip in frustration.
He started to feel an overwhelming amount of sadness hit him like he was going through a bipolar episode. It came without warning, and he started cry, not just a single tear, but full out weeping. Edward would be embarrassed to do this in front of other people when he finally came to his senses, but right now he didn’t care. “I can’t have sex anymore!” he cried, tears streaming down his face and down his chest. “I like sex!” he whined and wiped his face with the back of his arms, “I like sex a lot. I have a lot of sex. A lot of women like me. Now, no more sex, all because of you, asshole!”
He glared at Jonathan flash of anger coming over him. “You didn’t like being fucked? Is that it, Jonathan? You sure were moaning my name loud enough for the neighbors to hear like some dog in heat. Were you embarrassed? Is that why you took it away!!” he shouted at him.
“And my voice!” he sucked in a sharp breath and fell down onto the floor, “My beautiful beautiful voice! It’s been ripped by that harpy. How can I even commit crimes, how can I fucking survive when I can’t even talk or write?!” He started to laugh, as a funny image came to mind. “I could play Pictionary all the time! I’m a fairly good actor, shake my body and act it out! I’m sure Dee would get a kick out it,” he laughed loudly, until Jonathan snapped at him.
“Don’t snap at me!” he snapped back, “What make you think I would ever want this? You’ve ruined me! YOU’VE FUCKING RUINED ME! Damn you to hell, Scarecrow!”
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Nina Stenet
"Great acts are made up of small deeds." - Lao Tzu
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Player: Avalikia ~
Registered On: Nov 4, 2010 0:01:40 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 696
~ Relationship Status: Single
~ Character Profile
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Post by Nina Stenet on Jul 6, 2014 22:12:16 GMT -5
As his hands move, Shawty herself hasn't the slightest idea what's happening, but her body reacts to his touch by shuddering beneath his fingers as if they imparted some sort of a chill. But when his grip becomes firm, her own grip becomes firmer still, as if she suddenly found herself dangling off the edge of a precipice and he was the only thing to hang onto. Her mouth opens but no sound comes out but a quiet, "Oh!" Remaining in that state as she's moved, if she senses anything of her surroundings now there's no sign of it.
At least until the table comes into the picture. The moment she feels her body being shifted away from the vertical, all hell breaks loose. Or at least as much hell as someone her size can manage when they're not even sure what's going on. Her movements are erratic as she suddenly releases her grip on his arms in order to strike out at him with both them and her feet - purposefully, but it's hard to fight someone off when you're not completely sure where they are and where they aren't, let alone what they are. Still, in spite of that handicap, she may be small but she's trained her body into exactly the sort of shape she needs to be in order to grapple well, and she's well-versed in the art of street-fighting. Which isn't enough to fend off someone who knows what they're doing while she's in such a state, but she can certainly put up a large fight for someone her small size.
One that she doesn't seem very keen to give up on soon - in fact she fights with that certain frenzy of someone who is cornered and animalistically believes that the fight is the only way to save themselves. You just don't give up that kind of a fight, even if it doesn't seem to be going your way. No, you scream at whatever it is and fight until you can't anymore.
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