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Post by Heather Glass - VerMillion on Jan 15, 2013 13:06:23 GMT -5
The bruises on her legs vary from the barely discernable pale yellow of the oldest ones to the dark purple of the newest, though generally speaking the worst ones are on the older side and there's a lot fewer on her legs than there are on her upper body. Some of the guards were big enough jerks to have not spared the area around her gunshot wounds from their attention though, and that certainly didn't help the healing process. There's not much by way of open wounds, however, as the gunshot wounds have healed over and the guards were most fond of blunt force trauma - while the Penguin was extremely frustrated by his attempts to interrogate her, especially when her inability to fear didn't wear off, they certainly didn't want to do damage that had much of a possibility of killing her to avoid potentially angering their boss.
Though they apparently weren't at all concerned about how her leg was healing. VerMillion herself in unconcerned with it, giving it no more thought than to wish it would heal faster, but the area immeadiately around the worst of the damage is slightly warmer to the touch than the rest of her leg - a strong sign of possible infection. She offers no complaints as he cleans her leg aside from the occasional twitch of her facial features when he happens to touch a particularily sensitive spot.
In the meantime, she talks a little more to Heather, saying, "You okay? You don't sound very good." Her tone contains no hint of concern, however, only slight curiosity at best. Though she's made that observation, she's asking more to kill time since laying around is boring and she knows that Jon's not the best conversation partner when he's working on something. Though after she asks that question there's a long pause as Heather gives a somewhat extended answer, though the only response it prompts in return is a somewhat skeptical sounding, "...Okay..."
It's then that Jon injects her with whatever it was in the needle. She grimaces at the pain a little, but offers no other complaint even though she doesn't know the purpose of it. Whatever it is, Jon thinks that she needs it so she probably does. Heather always believed that he cared for her needs as best she could, and VerMillion sees no reason to think any differently. So when he says she can sit up, she promptly does so, shifting herself on the table so that she's sitting directly in front of him.
And she'll definitely not complain about letting him see her eyes - that gives her the opportunity to do the same to him, after all. The only difference in her gaze is that the slight hint of distraction that was there before is gone now. At least until the moment before she says, "Unless we're both hallucinating, yes." Perhaps the only way to tell when she speaks that she's talking to Heather is the fact that her statements make no sense otherwise.
Though when he asks her about Heather, her attention quickly shifts from her to him. "Oh yeah, talking to her is easy - she normally knows what's going on just as much as I do. So she's very... here, she just can't do anything because... well, I'm the one doing things right now," she explains, or at least tries to. It's just plain hard to find the right words to describe what it's like, especially since she doesn't really understand what's going on. In the meantime she lets him touch and move her face all he wants, very relaxed beneath his fingers. She hasn't the slightest idea what he's trying to see, but she'll let him look all he likes.
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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 Jan 17, 2013 10:35:48 GMT -5
There was really nothing that he could see in her eyes rather than a slightly elevated dilation that could have been brought on for a number of reasons. Her eyes could still be adjusting to the dim light down here. As of the moment he had nothing medical to support that she wasn’t entirely sane rather than she was talking to herself. Which isn’t too farfetched for any normal human being, as most tend to talk to their selves, but to give it a name and another personality is something entirely different. She had jumped into a different category, but that didn’t mean she had lost her sense of reality.
Dr. Crane let go of the space around her left and right eye as she answered and brought his hand to his chin. He moved it there for a moment as if he was deep in thoughts about the situation. They could talk freely to one another. Her next statement even furthered his current hypothesis on the matter. ‘Right now’ was the key word that he caught in her sentence. Meaning that at one point they were able to switch from one dominant force to the other. Whether or not it was at will was yet to be seen.
Dr. Crane moved away from her, collecting a few of his things as he was silenced deep in thought. It took him a few moments to roll it over in his mind before he began thinking allowed. “The Penguin didn’t know what he was doing when he used my toxin. The toxin could have caused this effect, I’d have to duplicate it to confirm. It would be impossible without a control subject, but I can’t rule out the possibility that trauma caused this effect as well.” He paused and lifted his left hand out to the side, his palm face upward as if he was holding something only he could touch. “Fear makes the mind do incredible things to protect itself.” The Doctor lowered his hand and clasped it behind his back before he turned back to her.
He caught her gaze once more and held it as he approached her again. This time he moved her knee just a bit so he could reach under the table for another medical bag. He grabbed some gaze from it and then stepped back to look at her. He couldn’t bandage her like this. She was filthy from head to toe. Even with the help of the antibiotic she was just going to get it infected again unless she could take a shower. “Come with me.” The doctor told her and extended his hand to assist her off the table. There was no point in letting her simply drop off of it due to an injury.
He walked beside her, just a step ahead so he could lead. They turned down a corridor in the sewers and the temperature began to drop. Dr. Crane was never fond of the cold, but he had gotten quite used to it when he needed to. The doctor endured the cold, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed it anymore because of the numbness of his skin. A puff of air left his mouth as they got closer to the spot and he looked down at the half dressed woman beside him. His mind rolled over an unpleasant thought, but it had to be done. He slipped off his jacket and draped it over his shoulders to keep her warmer. They walked for a short distance further and Dr. Crane refused to say anything back to the acknowledgement of what he had done.
They came to a large circular room with a grate that was a good distance above them, roughly 19 feet. It had a steady stream of droplets coming from it that was just below what turning on a sink would give. Dr. Crane stood beside it and opened his hand toward the make shift shower. “I’m not sure where the water is coming from, melted snow perhaps or what’s left of whatever rolls down the street. I cannot promise that it is clean, but the street should filter it enough to use, not drink. It’s freezing, so I wouldn’t stay under it long.” He paused and extended his hand to take the jacket from her. “You can dry off on my jacket when you’re done.” He added to the end of his explanation. He had no towels to lend her so his jacket was the next best option. It wasn’t the cleanest cloth for her to dry off on, but anything was better than the state she was currently in.
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Post by Heather Glass - VerMillion on Jan 17, 2013 13:07:40 GMT -5
Everything goes quiet for a few moments as Heather doesn't say anything that VerMillion feels the need to respond to and Jon gets lost in thought. She finds her eyes drifting around herself, though they quickly go back to Jon the moment he starts to speak. She shrugs when he's finished, commenting, "Yeah, we were thinking that the toxins mixing did it, but we're no expert." She transitions from speaking about herselves from the singular to the plural and back again with the ease of someone who is totally comfortable with it. Perhaps it's because, aside from some memories that aren't really her own, she's never experienced differently. Or perhaps the lack of fear helps her be okay with the situation.
Either way, she watches what he does now with a slight amount of curiosity. It doesn't occur to her to ask him about it, as she's going to find out anyway and is completely unconcerned about whatever is going to happen next might be. When asked, she easily takes his offered hand to get off the table, and then holds his shoulder while he leads her wherever they're going in order to take some of the weight off her leg. Whatever that shot did, she sincerely hopes that it'll make her leg stop hurting so much soon! It is, quite literally, a real pain to deal with.
Wherever they're going, it's rather cold - she'd removed her socks and shoes in addition to her pants, so she's quite bare at the moment. The fact that she's small and skinny doesn't help matters either. She starts to shiver quickly, but it's only a moment later when Jon's offering his coat. "Thanks," she says with a large, immediate smile, and she's very quick to put it on. It's not just the extra layer that warms her, but the fact that it still has Jon's warmth in it. She's still cold, but it takes the edge off.
When they reach their apparent destination, she looks around as he talks about the water. She's not very concerned about the purity of the water, as she can see for herself that it's clean to the naked eye at least, but when he mentions the temperature of it she frowns somewhat. Great, she's already cold. Then again, it isn't exactly pleasant being as dirty as she is either, so she guesses that she'll just have to grin and bear it if this is what Jon can offer her and she doesn't doubt that he'd offer better if he was able. "Okay," she says simply, simply to acknowledge that she's willing to do it in spite of the obvious unpleasantness of the task.
She removes the jacket and hands it to Jon, as the floor here is no less dirty than the rest of the place. Then she pulls off her shirt, immediately starting to shiver again even though she's not even in the water yet. Ugh, this is going to be unpleasant. She's not at all worried about frostbite or anything like that, but she starts to move very quickly regardless simply because it's really cold and she wants to get this over with.
But, unlike what many girls would do in this situation, she pauses to remove her bra and underwear as well. She's hardly shy, and is therefore following the same logic as bathing anywhere - if she keeps them on, they'll get wet, and that will be unpleasant. The temperature only magnifies that problem. Handing it all to Jon, she braces herself and steps under the dripping water. "Agh!" she exclaims when it hits her, quickly rubbing the dirtiest parts of herself so that the freezing cold water can have the greatest effect. She's only able to stand it for a minute or so, not so much cleaning herself as giving herself a good rinse before she stumbles away from it, shivering uncontrollably and quickly wringing out her hair before reaching for the jacket.
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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 Jan 23, 2013 16:55:21 GMT -5
Dr. Crane let the jacket fall into his hands. He wrapped it over his arm and started to think about what needed to be done next. This was just a preliminary measure, after she was washed the wound needed to be bandaged, then they could talk about this split in her mind. He used that term loosely in his own mind, everything could have been just a side effect of the toxin and perhaps it will wear off and she will become stable again. Of course even stability was in question with how little he knew. Everything was up in the air until she was clean and bandaged. It was the same way at the Asylum.
Lost in his thoughts he didn’t pay much attention to her as she removed her shirt. It was a normal thing to do as she didn’t want to walk back wet and have nothing to wear afterward. But then something he didn’t expect happened. He didn’t know why he didn’t expect it but in that very moment he froze where he was, unable to look away from her as she stripped bare. He was like a deer caught in the head lights ready to be struck by something oncoming.
She came toward him but he didn’t move a muscle. The doctor still seemed relaxed aside from the extended arm he hand holding his draped over coat. Her shirt soon joined the now massing pile and then her undergarments. His mind was absolutely paralyzed from thought in this instant. He couldn’t remember what he was thinking about, he couldn’t remember to think! The doctor just simply stared as she walked into the water, but the stillness that he often wore broke the moment she made a sound. His body came back to life and he looked down at the objects he now held, only to look back up and study her form under the unpleasant water. It could be seen very clearly that it was cold.
His eyes came to a stare at her form again but this time in a different view. That protion that crawled from the back of his mind to the front without his control. It was an incredible impulse that he just couldn’t ignore. She had no problem undressing in front of him, as most would. She also had no problem immediately walking into the water, however unpleasant it was. The doctor stirred again, trying to wipe these things from his mind. First things, needed to come first. The more he thought about it the more it was driving him mad. He wasn’t acting like himself and something was causing him to do it. Dr. Crane would bury himself in it later.
The doctor shuffled as the dirt fell from her hair and onto the ground below. It covered and pooled around her feet only to drain off to the sides appropriate. Her hair finally had some luster back into it, but it was still so faded compared to what it should be. “Wash your leg…Come to me.” He said in broken mindless pieces. It was the worst sentence he’d ever thrown together. He needed her leg to be bandaged and she would have to put her clothes back on for a moment, but where he was planning on taking her it wouldn’t be for long.
An uncomfortable twitch came to his features at that moment when his mind ran over the thought. That wasn’t what he meant exactly, but his thoughts held the truth.
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Post by Heather Glass - VerMillion on Jan 23, 2013 19:07:18 GMT -5
There's now more than one person here who isn't thinking at full capacity. Before the water touched VerMillion, little was on her mind beyond the fact that she knew it wasn't going to be a picnic and afterward the only real thought on her mind is that she's very, very, very cold. Fear has nothing to do with that reaction - the body is quite good at making the neglect of any need feel unpleasant, whether or not a person fears death. Just as she'd be driven to eat by hunger pains or drink because of thirst, now she's being driven to find warmth by the combined unpleasant effects of having a mild case of hypothermia. The only effect of her lack of fear is that she didn't have to fight it in order to put herself in that situation and she doesn't have it making her that much more desperate to fix it. She just really, really wants to be warmer.
But with all that running on in her head, she doesn't really notice Jon's sudden stillness, or the way that he looks at her. Instead her focus is on getting it all over with so that she get to the part where she's a comfortable temperature again as quickly as possible. Though when reminded, she takes an extra moment to ensure that her injured leg is clean, simply because Jon apparently wants her to.
Though the moment that's finished she's grabbing the jacket from the bottom of the pile. Not designed for this purpose, it isn't nearly as absorbent as a towel would be, but it works well enough to get the bulk of the moisture off of her body and out of her hair. Once it reaches a state of being much more wet than she is she trades it for her clothing, which she puts back on as quickly as her shivering allows. None of it is exactly clean, though she's still much better off in that regard than she was when she started and now cares much more about warmth than having clean underwear.
Though once her shirt is back in place, she's wraps her arms around herself and calmly asks, "D-do y-you h-have a-a b-bl-blank-ket or-or s-someth-thing s-somewh-where?" That minimal amount of clothing is hardly enough to do more than make a dent in making her feel warmer. Though a moment later, as if answering a question she adds, "We-we're f-fine, j-just c-cold." Actually, aside from that detail, she feels a lot better than she did. After getting that dirty she'd forgotten how nice it feels to be clean. Or at least, much cleaner than she was.
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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 Jan 28, 2013 17:06:52 GMT -5
Thought, Anxiety in the situation, all of these things was running through his mind. Not his anxiety of course, that wasn’t possible. The clothes quickly left his hands as quickly as they came. It was like everything before had almost happened in a session, where he would observe behavior and comment it on it later to himself. During the images he could only remember himself staring at her but doing absolutely nothing. There was no thought in his mind….Had he been thinking at all? As each piece left his hands and finally emptied he kept his hands out for a moment until his concentration was broken by her stuttered words.
He stared into her eyes, no longer looking at her form as he once did but the image was still clear in his mind. Now that it was there his mind did begin to comment to itself about her features. There were certain nicks in her skin that his eyes had picked up, she must have been fairly active. Her body was very frail and looked as if it could have bent or broken easily at the slightest touch. Each curve in her body was noted and placed in the right part of his mind, all for research purposes…All for research purposes.
She had asked him a question hadn’t she? Dr. Crane snapped out of whatever trance he had fallen into. It was very different from his previous lifeless trances where it seemed he wasn’t there anymore. This one was more of a daze, like he didn’t belong or was just simply dumbstruck to what was going on. It was simply the moment before the deer got hit with the car, but he was never going to say that aloud. Right now he had a question to answer, as unfortunate as the question was. “No..” He answered her simply and honestly. There was no blanket for her, there was no comfort for her here and he doubted she would find any if she looked since the concept was purely in her mind.
Though as the body he had once seen bare shivered and shook underneath he knew there was something more he could do. Many options flooded into mind but first he would justify it with a reason. She could easily develop Pneumonia or Hypothermia in this state, after all that hard work he couldn’t let it go to waste on her falling ill and he wouldn’t….Not because she didn’t deserve to be this way….He would put that thought aside in his mind. “But I know where to get one.” He followed his previous statement and beckoned her to follow him.
Dr. Crane’s pace was slow due to the way she was shaking, he knew she would fall behind and in that state he didn’t want her to considering this was for her. He took her a ways down in the sewer until they came to another ladder. Carefully he climbed up it first and pulled off the manhole. It was into a slum ally with side housing, very small and compact living. The ally way would block most of the wind so she wouldn’t be in too much danger of catching something worse. He hopped up onto the surface and waited for her to follow up with him. Dr. Crane neglected to cover the hole back up as they would be returning soon. Once she was up Dr. Crane wasted no time before he went up to the door and knocked on the very first one he saw.
A younger woman answered the door, slender, blonde and quite tall for frame. It only took a moment for her to register who was standing at her door. She had recently seen him on T.V as another escaped lunatic from the Asylum. He had been over the news for years, it was that crazy doctor! The woman nearly screamed but she was interrupted and silenced in her shock.
Dr. Crane to the immediate initiative to walk up and place his hand over her mouth gently calming her with a hush from his lips. Her fear had fed him so much already, she would be easy to handle. “I need to use your shower…” He explained to her and walked her backward inside. It was possible that there were more people in the house with them, but he dealt with one problem at a time. “VerMillion…Take your time.” He spoke to her as if she could use the house as she please.
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Post by Heather Glass - VerMillion on Jan 29, 2013 15:31:57 GMT -5
It actually doesn't matter much to VerMillion whether there's any real comfort to be had around here or not - it's nice but she certainly doesn't need it. She'd had no comfort at all in the Penguin's prison, but though she came out of it in worse shape than she went in, none of that was actually caused by the living conditions. When you can't fear it doesn't really matter to you whether you feel safe and secure or not. And while you're likely to need to be calmed down from a fit of anger, you certainly don't ever need any reassurances that everything is going to be okay - whether it is or it isn't, you're not afraid of the outcome. Her mind is very hardy in that respect.
No, what she needs now is simply a way to get warmer, and while she of course has preferences of some ways over others, she's quite happy to accept whatever option she has. And as she's quite eager to alleviate these annoying symptoms and pains, she's quick to follow behind Jon. Actually, she's helped by the fact that the physical effort helps warm her a little, though not by enough to counterbalance the fact that she's still damp and in a cold place. And at least the cold is giving her something to think about besides her leg.
Though she frowns somewhat when she sees the ladder. She has to climb that while she's freezing cold like this? But the frown quickly flickers into a more determined look as she reminds herself that Jon said that there'd be a blanket. That's enough to motivate her to climb it without any actual complaints. Especially since, numb fingers aside, it's actually quite a bit easier for her to go up the ladder than it was to go down it.
Once she's at the top, she's shivering again as she glances around at the unpleasant alleyway with an uncaring expression before following being Jon as he approaches a door. She's still a few paces behind as he handles the woman who answers it, catching up with him as he keeps her silent. None of that particularly bothers her - it's nothing that Heather hasn't seen before, after all. In fact she knows that it's probably going to get a whole lot worse for the woman than having someone insist on using her shower, but that doesn't bother her either.
Instead what bothers her is that Jon has found a way for her to have a very pleasant shower immediately after she'd had to have a quite miserable one. "W-why d-didn't we j-just do th-this bef-fore?" she asks as she steps inside and shuts the door behind her, sounding rather annoyed. Though there's a note to her voice that hints at happiness as she heads further in and says to herself, "Well, w-why c-couldn't it h-have been the f-first i-idea? W-would have s-saved t-time." She is, actually, quite pleased to be here - it's only the order of events that she has a problem with. And being really cold certainly has a negative impact on her mood.
The home may be rather humble, but for her that's just as well since it means that she doesn't have to look very hard to find the bathroom. And while said bathroom is neither big nor fancy, it still seems luxurious to her since she hasn't so much as been in a proper bathroom for weeks. It takes her no time at all to hop into the shower, and the hot water quickly eases away all of the coldness. For a moment she simply lets the heat soak in, and then she locates some shampoo for her hair. Which she uses multiple times, scrubbing away at her hair until it no longer feels so gunky. Repeating the process with soap on the rest of her, it isn't until the shower head starts threatening to run out of hot water that she finally considers herself done.
After toweling herself dry, she starts digging through the drawers and finds a few hair essentials - blow dryer, brushes... "What do you mean?" she suddenly responds to Heather, "You haven't figured out that he doesn't have our stuff yet? We had a blanket... Well, we can ask him about that later." She takes her time brushing through her hair - Jon said that she could, after all, and getting all the kinks out of it after so much neglect takes some doing. Sadly, the color is somewhat faded, especially around the roots. Normally she'd have recolored it by now, but obviously she's been unable to. Oh well...
Then she starts perusing the makeup, though that leads Heather to make another comment. "So I'll take it with me, then," she replies, "It's not like some of her makeup disappearing is going to be the worst thing that happens to her today..." The woman who lives here obviously has different tastes than she does when it comes to cosmetics, but she manages to find some that is somewhat like the stuff she likes. When she's finished, she looks at herself in the mirror, deciding that she doesn't look terrible, even if she could have done better with her own stuff. "Hmm, I wonder what kind of clothes she has? Ours is ruined..."
Fortunately for Jon, she deems wrapping herself in a towel as a necessary step before leaving the bathroom and going hunting for clothes, if only for temperature reasons - she's already had more than her share of being cold today. Heading into the woman's bedroom without giving whatever Jon's doing more than a glance, she rifles through the drawers for something suitable to way. Unfortunately, while the woman is thin she's also tall, so none of it fits her properly. Though in her hunt she happens upon a pair of scissors, and she shrugs to herself as she comments to Heather, "Well, it's not like we're going to return them anyway." By cutting off some of the excess length in some pant legs so that she won't be tripping over them, she gets something that will work for her. She finds a comfortable T-shirt and a sweatshirt to put over it - she actually doesn't mind the too-long sleeves on something to keep her warm.
The shoes are a bust though - all much too big. Then again, the shoes she left in Jon's lab were perhaps the one piece of clothing she'd had that made it through her stay at the Penguin's more or less undamaged, so she might as well keep them. For now she pockets a pair of socks and grabs a pair of flip-flops for the walk back.
After she's through getting dressed, she's in a pleasant enough mood to be humming to herself as she leaves the bedroom and heads into the kitchen area - completely clean, dry, and warm all at once after not having had that in a long time, that's more than enough to raise her spirits very high. Even so, she'd like to add 'full' to the mix - the food they'd given her at the Penguin's place was hardly worth eating. "Do you want anything?" she calls out to Jon as she starts rummaging through the fridge, though a moment later she's responding to Heather with, "I know, but it's nice to ask." Spotting what appears to be some leftover pasta type stuff, she throws that into the microwave and snacks on some crackers from one of the cupboards while it cooks. When it's done, it proves to be delicious - or is it that she just hasn't had anything even remotely tasty in a long time and so everything tastes wonderful?
Before she's done, she adds the rest of the crackers and a few other things she might want to snack on later to the loot in her pockets. And, satisfied that she's made full use of what this home has to offer, she checks up on what Jon's doing.
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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 Feb 5, 2013 14:43:20 GMT -5
The thought to get her a warm shower hadn’t come until she had stepped out of the one he used. Much like the scrap of newsprint he kept in his jacket lining, it simply didn’t do her justice. Dr. Crane may have been able to get away with doing such, but his appearance didn’t matter. There were more important things to do than work on getting himself completely clean or completely washing his hair with specially made shampoo’s you can get at a local store. As long as he was clean to the point to where he could work without contamination to his serums or his patients it didn’t matter. The thought had popped into his mind simply because he wanted it to be so, but he would never breathe that to life.
It was far simpler to just say that she could have contaminated his work.
Dr. Crane quickly became occupied with the woman at hand as VerMillion moved further into the house to do as she pleased. He backed her up slowly; she muffled through his fingers cries of hopes and pleads that he might let her go, but to no heed. He simply nodded in a fake sympathy for her and backed her into the kitchen. She cooperated with him in her fear, which he was soaking every single moment of as her face paled when he rummaged through kitchen drawers. He opened a few and shut them, keeping he close by his side as he did so. The doctor rummaged until he found a roll of duct tape and a pair of scissors. Those in hand he led the frightened woman back to the couch and began to bind her as she sobbed and whimpered. Dr. Crane started with her mouth, taking care of the sobbing immediately before he moved on to bind her hands and feet and lay her down on the couch.
It would have been difficult for her to maneuver as she was and even if she could she was far too paralyzed with fright. He stared down at her for a long moment, his mind turning and telling him to do more but then the water piping in the house turned on. He heard the water move through the pipes and he knew that VerMillion had found her way into the shower. His glance came down to the woman for just a moment and then to the hall where he knew VerMillion had earlier disappeared to. Something was pulling him there. Dr. Crane left her alone for the moment and stalked his way down the hall. Each step was bringing him closer to the sound of water hitting a clean tiled floor. The master bedroom came into site with the door still hanging ajar; it seemed she had neglected to close it on her way in. Slowly he pushed passed the door and made his way to the open entrance of the bathroom that already had steam rising from it.
Carefully his hand slid to the corner of the hinge into the open doorway. The door pushed open only slightly just so he could get a glimpse of her through the steamed glass. It wasn’t a clear look at her but the silhouette that was exposed was enough of what he wanted to see. Her body was grey through the steam but he could see the bright color of her hair shining through the glass. With each movement of her hands it was becoming brighter, doing far more justice to it than before. Dr. Crane leaned to the frame for a moment, just staring at her as she moved; unaware of what he was doing. His mind questioned itself as to why he was standing here. He was studying her, he was making sure no one else was in the house; he was searching for something else in this room. But his body never came away from the door to do any of that. It wasn’t until the water shut off and the steam stopped pouring that his lanky body slipped from the frame and went back to the room where he had been previous.
The woman was still lying down, as he predicted she would stay. Dr. Crane went to a chair in the living room and sat down, watching her. He stayed there, still and silent until she came back into the room. Her appearance had changed drastically but his eyes locked immediately to hers as she passed. Her eyes seemed more defined than before but she was headed into the kitchen. To her it probably seemed that he had been here the whole time and it would remain that way. “No…” He replied to her question, eating was the last thing on his mind. “Get what you want… Grab any batteries and flashlights you find. Get something to put them in and go into each bathroom and grab as much medicine as you can. Narcotics, Steroids, Crèmes, Antibiotics, Cough medicine….Everything.” He added with a bit more direction as he leaned back in the chair keeping an eye on the woman. He didn’t put it beyond her to get bold eventually if she was left unguarded. Fear drove the mind to do everything…Even in the bleakest of moments, but this woman would survive today. VerMillion could find some kind of container on her own, a pillow case perhaps or a stray bag. “When you’re done bring them in here and ‘We’ll’ Go.”
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Post by Heather Glass - VerMillion on Feb 6, 2013 3:02:23 GMT -5
More focused on herself at the moment than she is on Jon, VerMillion hardly spares a thought about what he's been up to while she was occupied. Even if she did know, she's not the personality that would care. Or at least, 'care' in the sense of having any negative feelings about it - in fact if she knew she'd be more flattered by Jon's... curiosity than anything else. In fact, he could easily have joined her and she'd not have minded one bit - quite the contrary.
But instead she's got her attention fully fixed on the bottom tier of Maslow's hierarchy of needs, though when she's satisfied enough of them to pay attention to what Jon's doing she finds herself mildly surprised that in spite of her extremely long shower on top of the other things she's done he hasn't done more than tie up the woman. Maybe he's planning on waiting to do the whole test subject thing to her later? Whatever...
Actually, if you asked her opinion on the subject she'd say that while she doesn't see any problem with taking the woman's things and tying her up so she can't raise a fuss while that's being done - she literally needs them more, and it's not like getting them legally would be easy at this point - causing the woman harm on top of that is a bit much. But then again, Jon's going to do what Jon's going to do and she's not going to bother caring too much about that. Let Heather worry about such unimportant things.
So as she waves those thoughts off as unimportant, her attention turns to the list of things he tells her to look for. Batteries? Flashlights? Medicine? Why would he need anything like that? Whatever, if that's what he wants... First looking through the rest of the kitchen cabinets and then wandering back over to the bathroom, at first she attempts to stuff what she finds in her pockets with the rest of it. But like so many people this lady has a lot of old, forgotten stuff in her medicine cabinet. It isn't long before she's looking for something to put it in, and she remembers that there'd been a large bag in the bedroom. Retrieving that, she first empties her pockets into it - they can sort out which stuff she took for herself and which stuff she took for him later. Then she's back to the cabinet, simply emptying everything that looks like medicine into the bag without pausing to identify any of it. Oh, and hey, there's an unopened toothbrush! She'll keep that for herself...
It's only a couple more minutes before she's rejoining him in the main room, hauling the bag full of stuff. Fortunately, it's not a very heavy bag as the only items in it with any real weight are the small stash of batteries she found. Unfortunately, she's getting tired of all this walking around - she may be fairly accustomed to the pain in her leg, and even consider it to be not that bad compared to how it used to be, but she's not used to aggravating it repeatedly by walking around on it much. She'd spent most of her time in her cell on her cot just to avoid making it hurt worse and now it's starting to wear on her.
"I got stuff," she announces, frowning slightly as she shifts her weight off of her leg. Now what she wants more than anything is to just have a long sit somewhere. Where doesn't matter. So if Jon wants to leave, she figures that the sooner they go the sooner she can rest.
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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 Feb 12, 2013 19:01:38 GMT -5
Dr. Crane kept a close watch on the woman as VerMillion gathered what they needed. She may not be able to find a good use for them but he could make use out of everything he mentioned. Most medicines were just a mixture of bases of generic medicines. For example, Coridene which is a cough and cold medicine is generically Tylenol. It’s the same drug but branded under a different name. The only difference is the amount and small traces of other drugs mixed in. This was very similar to what he did with his toxins, but he would never mention what exactly those ingredients were.
While VerMillion was getting what he asked for he had already made several observations about the woman. He could tell by the way she acted that she was new into a relationship, already forming feelings of regret toward being alone at this moment. It was all due to her fear of being alone outweighing her fears of being together. After spotting a ring on her left hand he was now sure she was new into the relationship. The diamonds inside it sparkled and shined with a new vigor, they she had just come from the shop where it had been purchased.
Finally she had come back into the room. Dr. Crane was sitting across from the woman, staring at her until she had come back in with a bag of some sort. He nodded to acknowledge that she had done what he asked and stood up. “Alright, let’s go” The doctor walked to the door, having every intention of leaving the woman there like that, tied up and laying on the couch. “She’s married, he’ll be home soon and untie her.” Dr. Crane speculated before he opened the door and waited for her to come through it with him. They needed to get back into the sewers and away from the surface. Now that he had probably had all the material’s he needed he could fashion a pain killer for her and possibly a stronger antibiotic.
Dr. Crane let her leave first. Slowly he showed her out the door and led her back to the manhole cover where he went first this time. He didn’t say anything when he reached the bottom but he stuck his hands up so she could throw him the bag. Dr. Crane waited for her to come down. All of the pressure on her leg so far couldn’t have been good for her, but the short break she had gotten to take would have helped. He didn’t grab anything from the house when they left. Dr. Crane was used to living on very little and most of his hygienic affairs he took care of from fashioned things he’d made himself. The doctor despised the cold water he had to work with, but now wasn’t the time for luxury, there was work to do.
Once she was down the doctor began to lead her back to the place where they now lived. The crossed a few of the sewage over passes and eventually came to the same opening as before. Dr. Crane set the bag down on an adjacent table to the one that she had been on previously. “Sit.. And I’ll dress your wound properly now.”
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Post by Heather Glass - VerMillion on Feb 13, 2013 3:56:40 GMT -5
When Jon gets up to leave and apparently has decided to do nothing further to the woman, a flicker of surprise crosses VerMillion's face, though it's very fleeting and she shrugs off the fact that he didn't do what she expected without much thought. "Okay," is all that she says. Though perhaps a part of her is somewhat glad - after this incident the woman can simply return to her life just as she can return to hers.
Heading out of the apartment, she hesitates and frowns for an instant at the manhole - how's she supposed to manage carrying the bag and getting down the ladder again with only good leg? Though when Jon starts down first she sees that he's already anticipated that question and the answer. Dropping the bag straight down the hole when he appears ready to catch it, she sighs as she starts down the ladder herself. Though just as she's got most of her body down the hole, she sighs again and with some difficulty replaces the cover on the hole above her. Heather and the silly things that she worries about!
Then she makes her way back down to Jon, and the moment her feet are back on a flat surface again she says, "No more ladders today, okay?" She's had enough of them! And while she's learned to be far more tolerant of pain than she used to be, they're hard for her to climb without it hurting quite a bit - perhaps it would help if she had more upper body strength, but she doesn't. It would also help if her good leg wasn't getting rather tired as well since she's using it instead as much as possible - she certainly wasn't in the best shape when the Penguin locked her up, and she's even weaker after the experience than she was before. Give her a few days with more room to roam, however, and even if she tries to rest her leg a lot she's bound to fix that problem just by having to navigate a bigger space to take care of herself. But that won't help her today at all.
Which is why a look of vague relief crosses her face once they're back to the slowly-becoming-familiar lab. Maybe now she can give both her legs some proper rest. Though at Jon's instructions, she removes her new pants before she sits down - it would be tricky to roll the pant leg up far enough for Jon to reach her wounds again, and she doesn't want to try it. "I can't wait for this stupid thing to heal," she comments, and this time her sigh is a happy one as she sits. Never mind that it's on a cold metal table in the sewers somewhere - it's still loads better than being filthy, bored, and wondering when Jon was going to come like she was several hours ago. Then again, she'd take this over a plush seat in some ritzy mansion somewhere if only because Jon's here and not there.
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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 Feb 26, 2013 17:07:33 GMT -5
Dr. Crane had been busy pulling out the objects he needed from the bag but he turned in time to see her removing her jeans again. He had asked for it, this time being slightly more prepared. She hadn’t known about what he did previously, but she didn’t seem to mind the first…or the second time. Still Dr. Crane turned his body to get back to what he was doing and waited for her to get adjusted on the table. “It will be some time before it heals fully….But I will make it faster.” He assured her. Not to be confused with trying to comfort her of course….He just didn’t want to hear her complain about it.
Nodding to himself about that reasoning he grabbed some long white bandages from the bag and turned to work on her leg again. The wound had been stretched and some blood had been pursing to the top. It was probably because all of the walking that they had to do and the heat from the water would have caused the skin to expand. Before it could get any worse he brought the bandaging to her leg and began to slowly wrap it around. He had a clasp ready when it got to the end and he clamped it down. “It should be enough to get your leg stable and relive some of the pressure on the wound from the weight of your body. It should feel better when you stand on it.” He spoke in a cold monotone, clearly deep in his medical mode.
There were still far too many questions to ask her about what had happened in the cell. She had been there a long time and she had probably developed intrinsic fears that were covered by this “VerMillion” personality that she had developed for herself. It was just another defense mechanism that Dr. Crane knew all too well. To study it this close was a rare and beautiful thing and it made her than much more valuable to him. This persona that she had created for herself seems to be completely devoid of the fight or flight response, something in his brave toxin must have went wrong due to a psychological trigger. But right now she was too injured for him to study on a more….Personal level. But that wouldn’t stop him from focusing on the psychological aspect. His hand pressed on her leg to make sure that the bandage as holding up and then raised his hand to her chin to look into her eyes. The eyes were the perfect window into someone’s true self, that fear that held them trapped into their mind, refusing to let it expand. But there was nothing wrong with the dilatation in her eyes; she wasn’t suffering from any known psychological issue. How truly fascinating…He would have to get her in the dark room eventually. But he didn’t have to tell her this. His face remained cold and calculated as he looked. “When is Heather going to speak?” He asked in an effort to try and find the trigger behind the switch.
While he waited for her to answer Dr. Crane went back to the bag and dug through it. He pulled out several pill bottles, most consisting of generic pain killers with familiar names. Once he got them out he spilled the pills onto the table and held up his finger to make her hold whatever thought she was about to have. The doctor strode to the other side of the room and picked up a razor from the other side with a stool that he rolled across to the table he was previously at near her. The stool bumped and cracked, echoing in the arched halls because it wasn’t on a flat surface but once it was underneath him he sat and began to cut the pills. He pulled a few different types together and began to mix them into a powder. “I’m going to make you a pain killer.” He mentioned casually as he thought of what he was really making. Dr. Crane didn’t lie to her, but it was a super pain killer. These drugs mixed together was going to make something far better than you could ever get from any pharmacy. Of course he knew what he was doing and he knew how much to let her take, it wouldn’t kill her but there was always an amount of risk.
Once the solution was mixed into a fine powder he slid back from the table and beckoned her to come off of the table and to his side. “You have two choices. You can get all of this porition on your finger and put it under your tongue…which is going to taste horrible. Or you can use this…” He handed her a rolled up piece of paper expecting her to know what to do with it and what he was implying. “Now… while you decide…as you were saying?” He wanted to distract her as she was doing this, as the world was about to become far less clear.
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Post by Heather Glass - VerMillion on Feb 27, 2013 19:25:38 GMT -5
Jon's comment causes VerMillion to frown and mutter, "Not fast enough..." Nothing on this earth will stop her from complaining about her leg. Nothing. It hurts, and until it stops hurting she will continue to not be happy about that. Not that offering her any comfort would be useful to her either - the emotional scars from this whole experience have already healed. At least for VerMillion.
She lays back as he bandages her leg, frowning as it goes around the worst part of it, but otherwise quite relaxed. And the frown itself disappears at the words that he says. "Okay, thank you!" she replies with a smile, liking the sound of that. Yes, less pain is definitely better! Even though the limb used to hurt more than it does now, it's been hurting for long enough that she's just plain tired of having to feel it all the time. Though when he shifts from tending to her leg to looking into her eyes, she looks quite relaxed and content actually. Having been deprived of several basic needs as well as Jon for far too long, she's rather easy to please at the moment since that's all that needed to be solved to make her happy. Once she's actually used to having it again, then she'll take having the basics for granted and start wanting more things on top of that. For now, though, this is enough.
The question he asks causes her to frown a little and say, "I don't know." Figuring that he's done with her leg now, she sits up, retrieves her pants, and puts them back on as she continues to explain, for no reason other than the fact that it's cold enough down here that she'd be more comfortable fully clothed. "I mean, I can make her be out whenever I want to, but whenever I do that she freaks - stops breathing. So then I have to come out so that we don't pass out. That's not very fun. But we've tried having her out a few times and it's happened every time," she rambles, about to say more when Jon's finger causes her to go quiet.
Shifting impatiently, she frowns a little at being so abruptly silenced until she hears Jon saying what he's doing. "Oh, okay!" she says, liking the sound of that as well. It doesn't occur to her to question why Jon needs to make her one rather than to just give her one of whatever she got from that woman's house - she trusts Jon is doing what he thinks is best and has no reason to question his intentions. And now that she knows what she's waiting for and that it's something she's sure she wants, she's able to wait with somewhat more patience. Which is much less than the average person usually brings to bear, but at least she's fidgeting less than she was.
When he sits back and waves her over she's quick to come, noting with some satisfaction that the bandage really is helping it hurt less to walk. Still, she won't say no to a painkiller in addition to that. Especially one being offered by Jon. She makes a face though as he explains her first option - yeah, that sounds unpleasant. Though the second option causes her to forehead to wrinkle in confusion. "This?" she asks, looking at the paper and wondering what on earth it's for. Though when he asks her to continue, she's quick to remember where she'd left off. "Oh, and no idea why she does it - it makes no sense to me. And every time I ask her about it, she just says, 'You'd never understand.' It sucks, though - I don't want to have to be the one to deal with everything all the time," she says, turning the rolled paper in her hands as if that might help her figure out what to do with it. The way Jon said it, it sounds like using it is the better option of the two but he's clearly wrong to think that she knows what he's suggesting.
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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 19, 2013 12:31:56 GMT -5
The spring would be warmer for them in his hideout, if they could avoid the rain. The rain would make it particularly difficult to do everything with the flooding of the halls and the moisture interfering with his toxins. At least it would be warmer in the spring and the likelihood of hypothermia would go down. But he was used to these conditions, despite the fact that he hated the cold. Dr. Crane didn’t mind dank conditions and small living spaces, mostly because he always had to deal with what he was given at the time. But Heather would always have a much more difficult time dealing with it than him. The spring would be much better.
Dr. Crane was listening, always listening despite how he looked and how busy he was. Her split disorder (alleged) was becoming more fascinating by the moment. It was going to be important for the future as having one on one psychiatric time with a split disorder was rare. It wasn’t the first case that he had seen, but it was by far one of the most interesting because it seemed that he had caused it inadvertently, though if she did have the condition it would be easy enough to figure out why. The body splits its mind to protect itself from the outside or internal fear. It is a defense mechanism for neurotisms.
He acknowledged what she was saying with simple nods, but what he was really paying attention to was her body language. She had taken the rolled piece of paper within her fingers but had done nothing with it. In fact she stared at it as if she had never seen anyone hold it like that before for any reason. “You were a sheltered child.” He observed and carefully took the roll back from her into his own fingers again. She wasn’t from his world; it wasn’t surprising that she had no idea how to begin, but the fact that she looked at it like she had never seen it done, that was a bit different. She must have not been exposed to many of the harsher things in the world, the poor and decrepit in the city or the broken and cast out. Dr. Crane often lived among them when he had nowhere else to go. He had seen the underbelly of Gotham and distribution of drugs was not uncommon, though he didn’t partake unless it was needed.
Dr. Crane carefully stood from where he was and moved out of the way for her.“Sit.” He commanded her simply and waited for her to take it. When she was sat he came around to her shoulder and put the roll near his left nostril then handed it back to her. “Hold it there, then get over the line I’ve made for you.” The doctor paused and came over her shoulder from behind. “Then just hold one nostril and inhale sharply through the other, take the entire line. “ He finished explaining and moved to guide her hand. He wasn’t going to tell her immediately what it was going to do, it would burn, it would taste bad for a moment but the results would be worth it. She would feel incredible very soon, possibly enough to make her want to sleep and after so long in that place, she probably needed it.
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Post by Heather Glass - VerMillion on Mar 20, 2013 0:23:32 GMT -5
Jon's comment on her childhood causes VerMillion to immediately burst out laughing at the sheer understatement of it. "Oh, you have no idea..." she says, shaking her head as he takes back the rolled paper, though she chooses not to elaborate on that. Based on her hair alone, not to mention the other facets of how she chooses to dress and present herself, she probably appears to be well exposed to the world. But the truth is that she's spent the past five years very gingerly dipping her toe into all the things she'd spent her entire childhood being protected from, uncertain of how much she wants even as she's sure that her parents were more than a little overprotective. Clearly she likes the hair, as well as some of the other things that she's tried, but there's still a long list of things she hasn't tried yet - mainly because she's uncertain that she wants to. And drug stuff is one of those.
Then again, since meeting Jon she's scratched a lot of things off of that list. And she's not the personality that would have any reservations about that. No, she sits easily the moment Jon tells her to and listens carefully to his explanation without a single worry in her head. Unless you count Heather, of course, but her alter ego is remaining silent at the moment. "Okay," she says, positioning the roll as instructed and plugging the other half of her nose with her other hand. And, unlike pretty much anyone else would who approach this unfamiliar task with some degree of nervousness, instead she's confident enough to simply follow instructions. As a result, she's able to take in the powder without too much apparent trouble.
Yet in spite of that success, the same instant she's finished the fact that she's never done anything like this before rules her reaction to it. She coughs and chokes a little at the unfamiliar sensations in her nose. "Ugh!" she exclaims as she puts down the roll and rubs her nose with her fingers - as if that will help anything. "Why does anyone do this?!?" she asks swallowing to try and rid herself of the taste in her mouth, though the question proves to be rhetorical as the effect of the drug actually starts to kick in.
About the same time she's through complaining about it, she starts to feel a sense of numbness washing over her head. Strange, strange feeling... And not a bad one, she thinks. "Hmm..." is all she can think to say, glancing back at Jon with a somewhat dazed expression. She finds herself starting to feel very, very relaxed... Being relaxed comes to her naturally, actually - with her lack of fear crippling her ability to feel a whole host of negative emotions, about the only one left she expresses a lot is anger. And as she has no particular reason to feel angry at the moment, so this drug taking away her ability to feel physically and even mentally uncomfortable compounds her natural relaxation even more. To the point that she begins to slump in her seat to such a degree that she's probably in imminent danger of falling out of it - not that she'd care even if she did.
But though a part of that relaxation comes with quite a bit of drowsiness, she doesn't feel much need to actually sleep. Sure she may have just been rescued from the Penguin's prison, but perhaps surprisingly she didn't miss out on that much sleep while she was there. It was a rather boring place and, once she got used to all the noises of the guards and the other prisoners, it wasn't that hard of a place to sleep in. She's a rather deep sleeper, after all, and the louder noises she couldn't actually sleep through were infrequent. Perhaps the biggest disturbance was that guy who enjoyed yelling at the guards much more than she ever did, but he paused to sleep himself sometimes and at other times the guards would drug him to get him to shut up. Add the fact that Jon had rescued her only about an hour before she would have normally woken up, so the drug is the only reason she has to me tired now - at least mentally. Walking around and especially climbing ladders with her injured leg hampering her took a physical toll too, but right now she finds herself completely uncaring about any of that. And pretty much anything else, for that matter.
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