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Post by Deleted on Feb 26, 2012 15:13:20 GMT -5
Croc sat back against the cold iron wall of his small, cramped cell, trying to formulate an escape plan, though each time he managed something that seemed like it would work, his mind clouded and he felt dizzy. He couldn't think properly at all, and any attempts at speech were slurred and guttural. He figured that saying things aloud would help his mind focus, but the only thing Croc could really focus on was his sore body, throbbing shoulder, and distinct smell of rotting flesh.
It seemed his shoulder, having not received any sort of medical treatment, had gotten terribly infected. He couldn't move his arm at all, his shattered shoulder had made sure of that. Blood still oozed from beneath the skin along with pus. It looked as rancid as it smelled, so Croc tried to ignore it. To go along with the throbbing, there was an unreachable itch that seemed determined to irritate Croc.
He bad awoken here a couple of hours ago, chained heavily and squished in a small cell made completely of thick iron. He had already tried to beat down the walls, but with one arm and weak from whatever drugs.had been administered, he simply gave up and slouched against the back wall, fading in and out of counciousness. It took him a while to even realize he had three shock collars, one aground his neck and the others around his wrists. He remembered these from Arkham, but they looked slightly differant.
He was well aware of his angry stomach, snarling with hunger, but no food had been brought. Luckily, the foul stench of his infected shoulder help him to shrug off his hunger. He simply imagined meat oozing with infection and found himself nearly ready to puke. But he couldn't deny it, he was hungry. Maybe a guard would come in later, or Tiff himself, and Croc could make a snack of them.
Unfortunetly, in his horrible state, he doubted he could manage to kill anyone. The pain in his shoulder was steadily spreading down his arm, and if one could see through his thick skin, they would find the thin lines of red that tan down his arm. Croc had more then just an infection.
The man trembled constantly, sweat running down his hard, rough skin and dripping onto the hard floor. The heat that rolled off Croc was immense and would likely assault anyone who got to close. The symptoms made it quite obvious. Any doctor could quickly tell that Croc had blood poisoning.
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Post by tiff on Feb 26, 2012 17:50:52 GMT -5
Tiffany met outside the building with General McFarsi. It was actually the first time Agent Tiffany had met the man during his stay in Gotham. The General had been handling other issues within the nation, so he had been able to come in other instances of transport. When it was known that Tiffany had managed to capture Killer Croc, the General decided to be part of the transport personally. If everything went as plan, they would transport Croc to an airport outside of Gotham where the United States Army plane waited to transport him to a secure base in Romania, where Constitutional rights were seen as recommendations not requirements. The two men shook hands.
General Farsi was a short, but built African American man. He had a bad mouth on him on most occasion and quite a temper, but he was intelligent when handling immigration and drug trade into the United States. "I want your Feds out of the way on this. It's bad enough that your wasting all of our supplies on your little operation, and the only thing you have to show for it is Killer Croc," the General growled as Tiffany led him into the building and into the secret prison underneath.
Tiffany cringed at the statement. He did not appreciate being reminded of failure, especially from a person who held higher rank. "Of course, sir," he said forcefully, "If I could be open to speak." Tiffany understood that many of the rogues he had captured had escaped, but part of the reason was because the National Guard took far too long to transport them out of Gotham. He had noticed in the beginning that the rogues worked together, partly because they had become friendly with one another in that terrible Asylum. They needed to be taken out of Gotham and away from anyone who might try to help them.
"You're not under my watch," the General grumbled as they took the elevator down.
Tiffany frowned at the brash behavior. If the man wasn't such a help to this nation, he would have asked for his immediate removal. Tiffany nodded, then pressed the emergency stop button in the elevator.
"Hey! Wha!" the General said as he startled and glared at Tiffany.
Tiffany turned to him coldly. "General McFarsi, I might appreciate your work in this nation, but if you continue to question my standing in this operation, I will ask for another from the National Guard to be brought on. I have told the Director that the National Guard has not be forthcoming with their arrival. It is the time wasted by you that has allowed many to escape," he informed coldly before pressing the button and allowing the elevator to continue.
"Kid," the General started because to the General, Tiffany was just a kid, "the FBI has no control over the National Guard. You're job is to capture and hold them. Now, show me where Croc is so I can determine how best to transport him," the General growled as the elevator stopped and opened. "Besides one of us is being questioned for removal, and I do not believe it is me."
Tiffany felt numb until the final words left the General's mouth. It stunned him in away, and showed on his expression for barely a moment. The General walked out of the elevator, and it wasn't until the General yelled at him again to move did Tiffany actually start.
Were they really questioning his job?
He swallowed back the underlying feeling of failure to say, "This way."
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Post by Deleted on Feb 26, 2012 18:23:38 GMT -5
Croc had once more drifted into a feverish sleep, head hanging low as he had no place to prop it. He didn't dream of anything, rarely did, and in such a light sleep and with his mind to clouded to even think properly, there was no way he could dream of anything. However, in his light sleep, Croc did manage to pick up two seperate scents.
One was familiar, but no matter how much he tried, Croc couldn't seem to be able to recognize it as quickly as he should have. Heck, he didn't even know where he was. Was he even still in Gotham? The second scent was one Croc had never smelled before, but it was distinct and seemed to be male.
Curious, Croc raised his head as slowly as he could, but a moan still escaped his jaws as pain flared in his shoulder and arched down his arm, making Croc grimace. He hadnt experianced pain so bad in years. There were times when it had gotten close, but was never quite up to the agony he was suffering with now.
Feral eyes narrowed into sharp slits, he could hear the sound of footsteps just outside his cell and strained to see them, but the heavy iron door didn't offer so much as a moving shadow. It seemed that whoever it was, they had come for him. Why? Were they here to gloat in his face, knowing he could do nothing about it? He was already in the most agony possible, it seemed, but were they here to make it worse?
The few questions flared briefly in his mind before fading, the drugs were wearing off. His uninjured limbs.didn't seem sk heavy and weak anymore, and Croc felt certain he could kill Tiff he wanted to. Tiffany! Now that his mind was clearing, he recognized the scent. It taunted him just outside the door and he gave a loud roar or recognition. The drugs that kept him from resisting were starting to seem nonexistant. The only think keeping Croc from hurling himself at the door and crashing right through the iron was his shoulder, but that would only hold him back for so long. If he got angry enough, he was confident in his skills to tear open the door and make a run for it.
But then what? He had no clue where he was, no clue where to go in order to escape. For now, resisting was futile, he had to find out where he was and what was going on. But for now, let them administer their drugs and gawk at him because if all went well, they would all be dead sometime tomorrow or the next day. The only problem was if he would even still be here by tomorrow. Surely they would not bother to move him? Especially not when he was so badly wounded?
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Post by tiff on Feb 27, 2012 18:52:15 GMT -5
It was difficult for Tiffany to focus on the present, as his mind reeled with all his past decisions and what led him to make them. After the many escaped villains, it was very difficult for Tiffany to sleep at night. If Elle wasn't there comfort, he probably would be suffering from insomnia. Tiffany became an FBI agent because he wanted to protect and serve the innocent who cannot protect themselves. He wanted to destroy evil from every hiding place, but it seemed like no matter how hard he pushed to contain it, the wall of evil only pushed back harder.
Was the General speaking the truth about him possibly being dismissed? Had he really failed?
His hand turned into a fist at his side as his eyes focused on the ground as he walked in front of the General leading him to the cell. The General smugness bothered him. How can he not feel the same sense of failure, or was he not bothered by such a thought? Tiffany kept his features cold, but stayed quiet as he finally stopped at Croc's cell.
"This is it," he stated, and his words were only returned by a fierce growl. Tiffany ignored it. After the event near the warehouses, this creature did little scare him. He was just an untrained dog who needed to be put down.
General McFarsi, on the other hand, took a step back. "You haven't been drugging him!" the General snapped, almost worried the creature would escape through.
Tiffany's lip tilted in a frown. No wonder that man did not understand his failure, he had no aspect of what war they were fighting. He kept his comments to himself though. "Yes, we have, but it is almost time for his next dose, meaning the current drug is waring thin. He will be sedated though, for you're transport," Tiffany avoided stating the exact time of the transport. They both knew it would take place in the next half an hour, but there was no reason to give the monster warning.
Tiffany reached into his pocket and pulled out a remote. He pressed the button that caused the collars to shoot electricity into Croc's body. He then handed the remote to the General. "This will keep him in control," he stated.
The General looked at the remote then up at the man in front of him. He seemed to thin and young to actually be effective in this, but after hearing the thing behind the wall, he had to admit, he was somewhat impress. To bad the kid wouldn't be here for long. Congress would serve him to the public on a platter. It was only a matter of time.
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Post by Deleted on Feb 27, 2012 20:03:04 GMT -5
Croc sat still, trying to discern words as the two chatted outside his cell, but their voices were distorted, thanks to the heavy iron door that seperated him from the fools that held him, suffering in a closet. He growled lowly in anger, would they come in, or stay outside like cowards? Were they scared to face him, despite being utterly helpless? Perhaps they feared his stench rather then him physically. Heck, even Croc feared his stench of infection. It was the definition of gross, and few things grossed Croc out.
He didn't fear the infection itself, nor the blood poisoning that foretold death if it was not treated, which it probably wouldn't be. He wasnt likely to survive for more then a week, and would likely die while sedated, being transported out of the countrey. He didn't yet know he was being transported so soon, but he did know he was close to death and weakening quickly. Oh well.
Croc didn't fear death, why should he? Nothing could be worse then the life he was living now. Maybe it was just time to retire. To him, death just seemed like a permenant vacation. He wanted to cause as much chaos as possible before he died, however, just to show Tiff that he had changed nothing, that his spirit was still as bloodcrazed as it was before he was captured. If Tiff thought he could break Croc, then he was terribly wrong.
The only problem was that he was to weak to resist anything at the moment. He had barely recovered from last night and the throbbing in his shoulder was getting so bad, he actually wouldn't mind another dose of whatever had clouded his thoughts so much. Be would be glad for the peace and the feeling of numbness that would dull the burning agony in his shoulder.
Bored and tired, Croc relaxed as best he could and gazed at the door through calm, slitted eyes, waiting for someone to enter and administer whatever drugs that had offered a little peace. He wondered if Tiff was still there, but he wasn't focused on listening for muffled voices right now, and the scent would linger whether he was there or not. But just to be sure no one had forgotten about him, he parted his large jaws and gave a low growl, though it wasn't like the aggressive snarls he usually made, just that of an animal wanting attention.
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Post by tiff on Feb 29, 2012 18:26:44 GMT -5
The General judged the remote. His men were ready to move now. "Where is your man with the sedatives?" the General growled in annoyance. The FBI truly was incompetent. To him it was just an overgrown police force.
Tiffany caught the annoyance in his voice then sighed, before waving one of the guards towards him who stood at the end of the hallway. The guard had a rifle loaded with heavy duty tranquilizers just in case the monster did attempt escape. "Hold down on that remote, sir," Tiffany stated as he nodded to the General. He then pulled out his gun from his holder, before nodding at the other man. Tiffany unlock the door while the other agent would aim right at the beast location. The general nodded with a grimace on his face. He pressed the button and held it. They waited to hear some type of objection in pain from Croc before Tiffany pressed in the code.
Tiffany had no desire to be here. He despised this creature and just wanted it gone. He had killed too many of his men to care for it. He had hoped the National Guard would handle it all, but when government department worked together it always turned into some type of mess.
The door slowly slide open, and they were all welcomed with a disgusting smell. Tiffany felt his nose twitch and his mouth grimace, and while the other agent hesitated for only a moment because of it, he still fired the shot, followed by another into Croc's thick skin.
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Post by Deleted on Feb 29, 2012 18:38:38 GMT -5
It wasn't long before something happened, though it wasn't exactly what he had expected. A sudden pain shot through his body and Croc grunted a little before locking his jaws shut stubbornly. What was the point of that? Irritated, he aloud one more sound to escape his mouth, a snarl.
The agents entered, guns trained on him and obviously noting the smell of infection that filled the cell. After they had gotten over the rancid scent, one agent took the liberty at firing at him. At first Croc thought they were bullets and figured they must be here to try and end his life, then he felt a stinging pain that a bullet would no cause, but a needle certainly would.
It took a few moments for him to realize what it was and by then his mind was already clouding. Were they trying to sedate him? Croc felt the familiar drugs rush through his veins as they did last night and wondered why they would try and put him to sleep. Perhaps they were moving him to another cell? It didn't matter, Croc was tired anyway, though still curious. Hoping for an explanation before he dropped into the darkness of sleep, he stared at them questioningly.
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Post by tiff on Mar 2, 2012 12:43:10 GMT -5
The General was surprised when he saw this monster first hand. He had seen it on television, but the tube certainly didn't do it justice. It was huge! He was somewhat baffled that the small man next to him had actually managed to capture it. Impressive, he smirked, but it meant nothing. The man's methods were out of line with the law, and the public hated him. He wondered what it felt like to be hated by everyone. He wondered if Tiffany even knew that world hated him.
Everyone waited for the beast to make a move, and Tiffany kept his eyes on the creature. No one said a word. The drug would take effect eventually. When the creature finally did fall to the ground in exhaustion, he finally turned to the General. "It last for three hours, that is all the time you have to move him from here to the van. It should be plenty," Tiffany then turned away with his agent and left the General.
The General frowned before pressing his com link and ordering his men down.
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It took two hours to lug the big brute up to the truck. They had placed him inside and chained him to the walls and ground. The truck was thick and would be difficult to break through, but they wanted to be careful. Tiffany stood watching from a corner. His arms crossed and his eyes careful, waiting for anything to happen. The military men weren't kind to the beast, but neither had been Tiffany so he hadn't cared. He watched the men lock the door and give their salutes to the General. The General nodded before moving to Tiffany.
"I will take it from here," the General remarked.
Tiffany didn't respond. He had doubts in the man in front of him. It was obvious in his face. "I hope you do," he said softly before pushing himself off the wall and heading back inside to the headquarters.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 2, 2012 16:49:29 GMT -5
No explanation came, only darkness. The men were waiting for him, as it seemed, not the other way around, which was what he preferred. And explanation would certainly have been nice but it seemed Tiff wasn't in a good mood. Was he ever? Croc took the time to shift his weight more comfortably and study the general curiously, though he wasn't aware of his exalted rank himself.
It took a few minutes but he eventually felt his mind fade to nothing and slipped from reality to dreamland. Most of the images conjured up in his mind were random and strange, but it didn't matter, he could care less. Sleep was better then wakefulness anyway, with the infection and soreness. It was actually a relief. He wasn't even aware of being loaded or of the trip as the van pulled away and began its journey.
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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 Mar 2, 2012 21:06:01 GMT -5
Dr. Crane had been watching Croc's movements for some time now. His new toxin had called for special properties. Croc was one of the best subjects he could think of to study what he needed to, to perfect the Toxin's weaknesses and improve it's strengths. The project had already been a little over a year in the works, he still had yet to test it upon himself.
When Croc was captured by the FBI Dr. Crane had made it his personal business to know what was going to happen to him. They had reached Croc before he could, that had to be taken care of. His eyes had been on the FBI for some time now and especially it's lower employees. After some close surveillance had managed to catch one of the agents working under the PROTECT operation. Timing was everything with what he was planning on doing. He knew that they were going to move Croc eventually, he just had to get it out of the man when and where. After a meeting with The Scarecrow there was nothing he didn't tell him. A large dose a fear toxin sent the man out of his mind, he wouldn't have to worry about him further.
Dr. Crane padded himself down in the back of the vehicle as he often did to make sure he had everything. They were going to arrive early enough for this endeavor for good reason. The TNT should have already been placed inside the restaurant at the corner of the intersection they were approaching. Normally Dr. Crane wouldn't use explosives or the force that he had planned for today. Sometimes certain situations didn't go as planned and your forced to use tactics that you normally wouldn't.
Arriving at the right spot they parked the car in the correct position. Now it would only be a matter of time. The car itself was rigged as well, the explosion needed to be big. They were going to be dealing with an Armored Vehicle, a blast was needed that could knock it on it's side or upside down. Croc's safety was not a big concern he was a large enough beast, and could probably take the rolling around. Dr. Crane had expected Croc to be sedated heavily. But that was where his chemical skills came into play. He had come armed with an extremely concentrated stimulant. If he had done everything right it shouldn't take more than a few moments for the beast to wake and feel as if he had just taken 12 lines of cocaine.
He would need it to work fast, they would have all manner of authority on them almost immediate. In the business district nothing was far away. The armored vehicle had made it's turn onto the street. “It's time.” He said to the two men in the front of the car. They got out and proceeded to walk down the street blending into the crowd that past on the sidewalks. Dr. Crane grabbed his mask from the seat beside him with a remote for the TNT and kept it at his side as he exited the vehicle himself walking at a quick pace away from it. The armored vehicle had passed through the intersection and was approaching the restaurant in moments. He slipped the mask over his head and walked into the middle of the street a good distance in front of the armored vehicle.
It slammed on it's breaks and he pushed the button as it came to the side of the Restaurant, and the car bomb. The Scarecrow covered his eyes from the scene for a moment moving his arm only to see the Armored car had not only flipped to it's side but slid into the building across the street. Panic ensued among the streets. People screamed and ran in fear from his work. With a deep inhale he couldn't help but smile, the panic around him was almost too perfect. Focusing back on the plan he watched as his hired help ran across the street to the back of the armored vehicle. They were planting another explosive to force the door open. Hopefully Croc had not been harmed and would not.
Gracefully the Scarecrow put his hand into his pocket and began a swift walk towards them. They had run passed him as the vehicles doors were badly damaged. With a bit of force the doors came open still rather hot from the explosion. Croc lay inside sedated heavily. He didn't have much time, they would be all over them at any moment. Quickly he pulled out a rather Large syringe clearly not meant for a human but possibly a large animal. The needle was thick and sturdy enough to not break with his rough skin. Carefully he injected the needle into the beast. Now all he had to do was wait. But time was short.
The moment he saw his eyes come open The Scarecrow leaned inwards towards him. “I'd suggest you run” The distortion from the mask spoke out.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 2, 2012 21:35:29 GMT -5
Croc had slept through everything, obviously. The explosions, the wreck. He hadn't been injured, though his shoulder was now bleeding profusely, painting the inside of the vehicle in red. When his eyes opened, the wound throbbed painfully. The deadly blood poisoning didn't help with the pain. His head felt as if a truck had been dropped right ontop of it, despite his cloudyness, which did nothing to ease the pain.
It took him a moments to realize who he was looking out. Scarecrow. Croc frowned, he wasn't scared. He had no fear. Perhaps he had bad memories, but he had gotten over them, his past fears forgotten. Now the only thing that went through his head was revenge.
With a roar of sheer rage Croc struggled and thrashed, throwing Crane from the van without actually noticing and breaking away the chains that held him. Another roar shook the street and people screamed and doubled their pace, fleeing as fast as they could in fear. Croc enjoyed their screams as he tore away at the metal until he was free if the blood splattered vehicle.
Still growling, he cast his gaze around. He hadn't heard Crane's warning but be had plans to flee anyway. The only problem was his shoulder and blood poisoning. Crane was the only one likely to help him with that and Croc had atleast enough brains to acknowledge that. Besides, he didn't fear Crane at all. Why should he?
Croc stepped toward Scarecrow and frowned. "I shall follow you." He growled menacingly. Be gesture with his massive hand and glanced around, knowing they would soon be swarmed by federal agents. "Lead." He ordered in a firm tone, waiting for Crane to flee so he could follow. Without Crane, Croc would surely die from his infection.
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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 Mar 3, 2012 0:45:55 GMT -5
Some resistance from the beast was expected. He had just given him the equivalent of a super steroid. Crocs hard swipe and knocked him out of the vehicle. He landed on his back but continued with the force of the blow to roll back to his feet. Luckily he had been expecting the creature in front of him to be quite upset when he woke.
He moved back to the broken vehicle and this time kept a slight distance from Croc. He was certainly a fascinating monster. He would be perfect. It was only then that he noticed the beast was clearly injured. That wound wasn't from the explosion. It had turned color and was beginning to eat itself and spread. It was clearly infected, beyond infected. It was rather disappointing. Nothing could be tested with that kind of contamination. Ridding of the infection would have to be his next step after they reached safety.
The Scarecrow nodded in responsive to the creature climbing out and saying he would follow him. Hopefully a beast of his size could keep up. He turned and fled across the street, their first objective was to get out of the area before everything in the world came down on them. A sharp turn was made into an alley heading straight for a nearby sewer access. His hired help had already been heading that way running back to the docs.
They couldn't make it to the docs on the surface without being caught. They were on the West side of town and the docks was on the east. It was going to be quite a trip but they would get there. At the docs he could treat him at his old hideout. If he needed more supplies they could go to Arkham but The Scarecrow doubted the beast could fit in any manner of regular car. For the moment he would have to trust that he still had the bare minimum of what he needed at the docks
The Scarecrow ran as fast as his feet could carry him to the sewer access entrance. They would have to move quickly once inside as well. The sewers would be the first place the authorities would look. Hopefully, through the fear and chaos they could have enough time for the national guard to lose their direction. The grate was already open, his hired help had made it. Quickly he descended down the ladder into the sewers.
The tunnels were dark and moist. The smell wasn't pleasing and the environment had to be doing a number on the infection he knew Croc was suffering from. His pace slowed some for Croc. He probably knew the sewers better than him. “The wound on your arm..It's incredibly infected” He stated heavily trying to catch his breath for a moment. His didn't stop walking however. He thought now was a good time to start talking to the beast. Careful not to make any mention of exactly why he freed him unless he was asked.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 3, 2012 9:52:43 GMT -5
Crane took off, fleeing the scene as quickly as possible. That was to be expected. Shoulder throbbing, Croc took off after him, every step bringing new agony. They made a sharp turn and continued on. Croc wasn't the fastest runner but he easily kept up with Crane. He was, however, and excellent swimmer.
When they reached the sewers, Croc smiled and squeezed his way gratefully through the entrance. The smell didn't bother him and the darkness cooled his hot skin and helped rid him of his pounding headache, though the foul, damp air felt horrible against his shoulder. It would likely only make the horrible infection worse, just as Crane's comment made him even grumpier.
"Obviously." He snapped. He wasn't sure where they were going. He just hoped that wherever it was, he could get some decent treatment. "Your going to fix it." Croc huffed, pushing the doctor forward with his left hand to avoid more agony in his right. It wasn't a push that would send him face first in sewage, it was more like a harsh nudge that would probably only make him stumble a bit.
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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 Mar 4, 2012 0:18:29 GMT -5
The push made The Scarecrow stumble forward but he got his balance back rather quickly. The shove made him stop and turn around. He didn't particularly like being touched, especially by this beast. He truly seemed to want to invite the nightmare. His success with fear toxin on none human creatures had been minimal. He wasn't sure if the fear toxin would even work on the beast, but that didn't mean he couldn't strike fear into it.
That wasn't what he was after from Croc in this situation. He didn't want to study him or his fears, only if the curiosity arose. No, he wanted to use Croc for his newest toxin. The Scarecrow looked up at the monstrous creature before him, noting again that his wound didn't look good. He would be lucky if he didn't loose the limb. “I will try...but I am not a veterinarian...” The Scarecrow responded to his comment letting a small laugh escape. He knew it would bother the creature, but he deserved ti for thinking he was in control. “We have to keep moving..” He stated afterward, turning from the beast and continuing his quick pace through the sewers.
They didn't have time to argue over who was in control at the moment. All that mattered now was escaping the national guard and making it to his hideout in time before Croc's limb was not saveable. In all honesty he didn't really care whether he had to cut it off or not. As long as the infection was gone from his blood. That was all he needed.
After a rather lengthy walk they arrived at the docks.
[continued at docks!]
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