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Last Edit: Nov 21, 2012 18:26:43 GMT -5 by mustairia
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Post by mustairia on Nov 21, 2012 14:25:51 GMT -5
Night. Who delivers something in the middle of the night? Talia was laying on her California-king sized bed. She was watching television watching the latest crimes happening on Gotham. She just returned home from a small coffee talk with an secretary in her League. Though, it was a small meeting it ended quicker than usual. She rolled off of her bed slipping on her furry slippers. Her gown reached to her knees a emitted the color of purple in which matched her slippers. The sounds of police sirens outside catching a crook. Just another game of cops and robbers... Gotham's police were like bees to honey, always picking at the traps. The driver of her limousine left a few moments after he dropped her off, leaving the front door unlocked. She stepped outside of the windows on the small white, granite perch. The wind blew against her brown hair as she looked down at Gotham. Her yard had barely any light, only the light of the moon and the lights on the front door. She had no pets and no guards patrolling her yard tonight. Only her limousine parked on the curved, brick driveway with a fence around her house. She seemed as if just another rich citizen making a life in the Northern parts of Gotham City. She brushed her hair behind her ear, stopping the wind from blowing it. Overlooking on the high perch, she had such a chance to be killed. Anyone could be killed in Gotham at the snap of a hand. With Henchmen running on roof tops, heroes interrogating everyone, and criminals roaming a ruckus. Surprisingly, the city still stood. Only the strongest of figures could survive in such a place, Talia was one of them. Just as she was looking over, a black figure began to block out the moonlight. The figure was a male figure. She heard her front door creaking as it slowly opened, boots stomping on the ground heading up the stairs, and the yelling for "Miranda." Though, the voice was unrecognizable, Talia scurried inside and closed the porch doors. The brown, white painted dresser held a small gun on the inside. A silver pistol. She pulled the dresser drawers out, all you see is classy, silk clothing of different colors. On the bottom would hold the silver pistol. Her hands quickly grasped it as she pushed the drawers back inside and gripped the pistol, prepared to fire. The pistol wouldn't do much against a strong figure, such as Superman. Though... this seemed just a feeble robber looking for a quick buck. Northern Gotham was filled with rich people, why not try and rob? The mans footsteps were slow and echoed through her home. It was best not to expose herself so easily. Her hands glided across the bed as she walked behind it. The door was on the otherside. The golden door knob began to slowly turn, the door creaking open. "You know... I'm not a free ride." Talia said, hiding the gun from site. A man in a Tuxedo entered the room holding a silver case. This was probably another delivery for her father. Why must she be the messenger for it all? His home was a easy find in Gotham. How complicated. "Take this and give it to your father.. It's from Scarecrow." Scarecrow? She had met him a few times. She thought his masks were a joke. Much like a child's play toy you find at a cheap gas station or toy store. How funny. Though, she didn't want to be rude to him as he was a born criminal. Ha. Born? Talia was the born criminal. The man thought to receive the payment and leave, though Talia didn't possess the payment for the silver case. Not only that, she had no idea what was in the case. Probably some drugs or a cheap spice used for some more poisoning ingredients. "Where's the payment I was promised?" Talia laughed coldly, "What payment? I was never told of this exchange. Your payment is living. Your lucky my guards weren't here... you would've been dead in the driveway. Atleast you're not making a mess on my floor." He grinned, "Alright... enough with the games. I want my payment." He began to etch towards her, though he stopped once she raised the pistol at his heart. "Sorry, it costs to stand that close to me." Talia smiled. He thought she was bluffing. Talia doesn't bluff... he's lucky she hasn't shot him already. One pull of the trigger and he's out of it. He continued to walk slowly towards her, "You know... I've killed many anonymous henchmen in my days. I would hate to have you next on my list." Talia stated, as she pointed the gun at his heart. Though, he didn't stop. It was as if he didn't want to stop. Many men think they are so strong just because they're fighting a woman. As if. Plenty of women have killed men in Gotham... strong ones at that. Laws were non-existent with criminals. Especially messengers who think they know everything. He then moved his footing as he darted towards her. The only thing her in the air was the click of the trigger and a bullet pushing out of the barrel. With the speed of the man being pushed against him, he was shot in the heart. His body was pushed back drastically as he slid outside of her door. The death was very quick. It was his fault of course, Talia had no idea what was happening. Only some man trying to get after her. "You've ruined my floor.." She said as his blood would begin to form a puddle around the granite tile. Her maid was a very close friend, a bodyguard. She was downstairs washing the dishes at the time. She knew was Talia's deeds were... surprisingly. Talia called her as she rushed up the stairs. "Seems as though you got a top priority cleaning job... I'll pay you overtime. Hide the body and clean the blood before his sender comes." The maid rushed for a mop, cleaning up the blood spills around the man with the basic substance of bleach. They dragged the mans body into a dumpster outside of her home, though the dumpster was for residents around the home. Talia returned to her room upstairs. She then placed the silver pistol back under her clothes in her dresser drawer. She had no idea who sent the messenger. He mustn't not trained him correctly... especially in the face of danger. The case remained on a small end table. Talia walked outside to her perch once more and sat on a small chair, a table attached to the home held a radio on it. She flipped to a station of pop tunes as the music began to only be heard on her perch. The maid returned downstairs to finished the dishes. Talia looked down towards Gotham smiling, "What a cliche' night."
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Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow
"and at the end of fear...Oblivion"
Player: Jon ~
Registered On: Feb 15, 2012 20:39:14 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 941
~ Relationship Status: Won't Say I'm In Love
~ Partner: Fear
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Post by Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow on Nov 21, 2012 17:08:39 GMT -5
Dr. Crane had been sitting at his lab table late that night, perfecting his latest serum. It was such a delicate thing and after his important delivery it had become even more important. His eyes shifted from his work to his phone lying idly on the table. He couldn’t stay focused on his work, which was odd for him considering how much VerMillion enjoyed interrupting him by randomly touching to him on sliding a chair up next to him and staring at him as much as he stared at her. In a way she was fascinating to watch though he would never outright admit that to her. It wasn’t uncommon for Dr. Crane to stare at anyone and anyone that knew his nature knew that he may do so, but with VerMillion it was different. She had a higher purpose than most of the Gotham rabble he ran into and had to deal with much more than he ever desired to.
The phone was really beginning to bother him and his hand stopped placing the dirty yellow droplets onto the plastic round plate. He relaxed in his lab chair and began taking off his gloves one by one, completely focused on the phone. He was never a social man, and never expected calls from anyone. There was no one in his contact list and no one in his miss calls section. It was a good thing and he wanted to always keep it that way. Every number that he ever needed was memorized in his mind and he never wrote any of their names down anywhere. There was no point in doing that when he could just remember the number and then there was little reason for anyone to try and obtain his contacts. It would be difficult to track down something he didn’t have.
After a few more minutes of mentally debating in his head he finally picked up the phone and scrolled through it. He hadn’t missed any texts, he hadn’t missed any calls. This was unusual for the way he had set things up to happen earlier. He was supposed to receive confirmation that the case had been delivered to Ra’s. This was why Dr. Crane didn’t use henchmen or middle men. They could never get anything done. But in this case he avoided talking to Ra’s when he could. Only when he was called on a first name basis would he go to see Ra’s at his will, it was a hold around his neck that he just couldn’t escape and at the expensive of his research he didn’t want to. But that didn’t mean that he had to like the man at all and he didn’t. If he could only find some way to make them grow…But he had tirelessly been trying that, to no avail.
After he discovered that nothing was on the phone he placed it back on the desk with his boney fingers lingering over it still. A few taps of it came to the desk and he pushed up from his lab chair, leaving his work where it was. VerMillion knew better than to go into his lab and start touching things that she wasn’t supposed to and if she did it would probably mean the end of the problem in the first place, she certainly wouldn’t be doing it a second time. Wrapped inside the depth of his own mind he took off his lab coat and grabbed his jacket. Under the same spell he reached for his mask and stuffed it into the back of his slacks, not forgetting to grab his glove attachment before he walked out the door. If he was going to where he suspected he was going, he was going to need everything.
Ra’s didn’t operate this way, and this obviously meant that the package was never delivered to him. It wasn’t too difficult to figure out from there. The man that had taken the case for him had gone through another source to get the case where it needed to go. The only other reliable source to Ra’s that existed in Gotham was Talia Al Ghul. A woman that he would have rather avoided for several reasons. One, he simply wanted nothing to do with the worthless woman. She had nothing to do with his research and never needed to be involved in the first place. When he got outside, he took the car that they had previously lifted from someone and began to drive toward the North Side of Gotham.
Being as close as he was to the league of shadows, he knew where most of them resided. This was part of the agreement between Ra’s and himself, it kept things legitimate between them so things like this wouldn’t happen, as Ra’s had often promised that as long as he did as he was told things would go complication free….But that was too good to be true. Thankfully Dr. Crane always planned loosely, so that anything could go wrong from point A to point B and he would still arrive at point B. When he arrived he made sure to stop and abandon the car several blocks away from his destination as he always did, to walk to the rest of the way. Once he arrived he stopped near the entrance to take in the scenery of the small manor and how he was going to get inside. Suddenly his eyes shot to a woman that was exiting the building and coming around the gate to the corner that he stood at near a dumpster that was accessible by the city.
Dr. Crane body went up against the gate and he pulled out his mask from the back of his slacks, clicking the switch to start the fans before he slipped it over his head. The darkness surrounded him and seemed to cradle its arms around him as a large heavy object was thrown into the dumpster. He had seen that form before and he had heard the echo of a body hitting the insides of the filthy walls of public disposal one too many times. Something told him that that was the man that he had sent. Dr. Crane didn’t give the man another thought; he cared nothing for him and only for the case that was to be sent to the insufferable girl’s father. Did she really wish to invite the nightmare so? Was this her idea of how things were supposed to work? The situation could have easily became complicated, but once they were well on their way back inside. The limber and lanky Scarecrow tossed himself on top of the dumpster and then on top of the stone gate that ran along the lining of the house. He stayed low to it and made his way around the side to some foliage that was conveniently making its way to the roof.
He took a single leap from the gate to the vine and shimmed his way up the rest of it, stopping momentarily beside a window while a maid was making her way down a hall on the third floor. He stared at her through the darkness of the window and the woman stopped dead in her tracks. She came closer to the window progressively, he steps her slow and her face went pale. The Scarecrow hid a sinister smile behind the confines of his mask, literally absorbing the anxiety that was pouring off of her. He didn’t move a muscle, simply waited for her to come closer to the window. She stopped….inches before it and turned, running quickly into another room. What a beautiful display….
Once she was out of the way he lifted from his pocket a simple vile of corrosive acid that he often used to break into homes silently. He poured the acid onto the latch that was clearly locked from the inside and waited as it made its way through the seam. Once it was in there good enough he gave a good tug to the window and it was opened. Ra’s probably wouldn’t have approved of the way he was going about this, but he didn’t care what Ra’s thought about it. This was nearly a breach of their verbal contract, but he never expected anyone to play by the rules, he certainly wouldn’t. The Scarecrow made his way through the halls, opening doors slowly to check in them for the object he was looking for. He wouldn’t have cared if he talked to the woman at all, but something told him she would keep it near her if she was just dying to speak with him.
Then, finally, with open push of a door he saw her across the room standing out on a balcony. There was no mistaking her through the glass. She seemed content with herself; the tall and slender woman was resting idly on the rail overlooking Gotham. As he stood in the doorway he couldn’t help but wonder in the moment, the one question that oh so often got him into trouble with the more professional criminals of Gotham….That one perfect question. She could never understand, and from the looks of what happened she would never. Did Talia kill the man?...What a waste. A waste of a good research subject. It was unlike her if she believed in her father’s cause. A vain attempt to try and make the world something it wasn’t. He cared nothing for Ra’s quest to cleanse the world, the world was already cleansed…it was perfect as it was. People just couldn’t see…what it really was. The reason why she had killed the man…The reason why she was standing on the balcony….and the reason why she had chosen to keep the case for herself in the first place.
The vile still in hand he tossed the rest of the acid at the light switch just barely side the room and made it short out. Then moment it did and darkness covered the room, except for the moonlit fall night, he grabbed his gloved attachment and placed it onto his arm. He was careful not to click it on completely however, wanting to keep himself in total darkness for the moment. Under the cover of the dark he made his way toward the glass, but kept inside the room. “Why…Do you invite the nightmare?” The distortion cracked out from the mask.
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Post by mustairia on Nov 21, 2012 17:51:53 GMT -5
Her nails hung over the site of the railing. Unaware of Scarecrow appearing, she heard the voice through her glass door. She could see nothing except the moons glare over her home. Her heart began to pound with anxiety, though she acted calm. Calm was key, do not express your fear to fear itself. Why did I invite the nightmare? Talia didn’t. He let himself in… The nightmare entered without any questions… without any responses. Talia never invited Scarecrow, he let himself in. The front door was unlocked… why go through the complications of roof-jumping and busting in windows when the door could simply be open? It wasn’t a trap… there was nothing she was trying to do. It wasn’t even her idea to have the door unlocked. The driver did it… Scarecrow’s henchmen were a joke. If you want something done, always do it yourself. The case was hidden from sight… it’s not like she wanted the case. She was eventually going to give it to her father. Only if she gets her shipping fees.
Talia can come off as an untrustworthy person, sure but she will deliver the package. Not on time… but it will get there as soon as she gets around to it. The case was under the end table which had closed cabinets connected to the legs. Scarecrow didn’t intimidate her… no one barely did. She was taught to not emit any fear. Though her mind wanted to grab a gun and attempt to end it, it would never happen. He was behind her glass doors… glass cuts can be healed as easy as that. Why shoot her doors? They cost a lot of money. She continued to overlook on the railing for a few moments to think of what to do about the intruder or the “invited” guest as he called himself. Jump over the railing? She would land on her face most likely… or she could slide down the pillars holding it up. It was an easy escape situation but why not toy with Scarecrow? She wasn’t scared of death; death should be scared of her. It was a joke she thought in her mind for a few minutes until she let out a couple of breaths. It was still pitch black except for the bright moon in the sky shining bright over her home.
She thought it as a waste of time for Scarecrow to come. Doesn’t he have some insane lab experiments to tend to? Why wear his mask… she knew him without it. Everyone in Gotham did… the professor was known throughout the city. He’s been on TV, faced Batman… what else could a man do for fame in Gotham? His mask was just a brown sack. A burlap sack, who wants that for a costume, that’s worse than a Bat… A man trying to be a Batman. How silly. Talia thought costumes were overrated more or less. She thought the tendency to wear a beautiful gown and have pretty hair is enough. Just look rich and classy and you’re everyone’s best friend. Most people who’re rich are doing something sneaky, but Scarecrow? Just a mad man wearing a burlap sack. She thought to herself to stop thinking about it and face him. Her back would slowly turn around as her hair flipped over her shoulder. Her back was leaning on the railing as her purple night gown would fall down on her knees, more than before. Her slippers would cross. All she saw was nothing in the glass room, just blackness.
She thought of him just as some cartoon character kids are scared off in scary movies much as the joker as well. The moonlight would beam onto her tan skin; half of her face would be seen while the other half was engulfed with darkness. Scarecrow was an unpredictable man. He could change his mind in a dime, much like anyone in Gotham can. Though he was different. Her hair would be curled at the end and long. She placed a slipper on the rail as her leg formed a right angle. She stared at the darkness for a moment, thinking of what to say to the supposed nightmare. Nightmare? She’s experienced nightmares all the time. It’s something she’s used to. As a child that’s all she saw every night… How childish of him to say that. Scarecrow had no hold over her, no fear in her.
Talia doesn’t fear over people, people fear over her. The shadow figure couldn’t be seen. She never really cared for it… she only cared for her precious room fixture. Scarecrow was most likely not mad at her, he has killed many men before. Most criminals have. The man darted at her from across the room, if you were a citizen on the street and someone ran from you… what would you do? Stand and do nothing or defend yourself? That’s exactly what Talia did. She had the gun aimed at him and warned him to stand down… he chose not to. What was she suppose to do? The gun shot was quick and was finished very hastily. The man didn’t feel much except a sharp pain! Scarecrow was only there for the case she thought. It was like they were intimate at all. She was intimate with no one… most were untrustworthy bastards. Her friends list was very minor. People think they were her friends; it was nothing but a lie in their minds. Just because she has talked to you a few times doesn’t mean you’re best friends. Talia had the mans phone in her pocket… before they dumped him… maybe he was looking for that? It was a cheap flip phone, who wants it? What bad taste.
She continues to think about what to do in such a situation as of this. She thought he was only there to get the case from her. The case was hidden, she didn’t want it. She thought it was just another drug deal between insane masterminds… Drugs? Disgusting. Tasteless. Drugs weren’t her style at all. She may have smoked and drinked a little in her past but that doesn’t make her a pot-headed dealer. She was a young woman. Her looks was what got her into many places without special reserves or phony phone calls under her alias of Miranda Tate. She knew Scarecrow most likely knew who she was, Talia not some Miranda Tate. They were just different names… nothing much. She never disguised her personality or looks… just a name. Anyone could come up with Miranda Tate. Though, why think of what is in the case?
Hmph. Her father was very creative at his craft. He could make a simple weapon from a pencil sharpener to a nuclear warhead. Though, she wouldn’t expect drugs. It must’ve been important for Scarecrow to drive all the way to her house. What made him think she had it? She should just play the part. Her fingers would begin to curl her hair to make it curlier than before. The moonlight gleamed over her slim body as she smiled at the shadows, darkness. The lights were out. How silly, Talia may have to buy more light bulbs. She continued to smile then say something towards the darkness, knowing someone was hiding inside of it. Someone was there… the sender of the lackey. “Well, look who has come out of the closet. You know… you should’ve just come in person instead of sending that wannabe. I wish people could be direct with me instead of beating around the bush, that’s what you’re best at though… right? Scarecrow is it… that lackey just talked my head off, charging at me as if he was some brave warrior of the shadows. You should train them better. But… you’re a real wildcard yourself, stud. Isn’t that the word now-a-days?”
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Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow
"and at the end of fear...Oblivion"
Player: Jon ~
Registered On: Feb 15, 2012 20:39:14 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 941
~ Relationship Status: Won't Say I'm In Love
~ Partner: Fear
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Post by Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow on Nov 27, 2012 0:25:39 GMT -5
Through the darkness The Scarecrow studied her every moment, waiting for any movement at all, waiting for one beautiful expression of anxiety. Any movement at all would do just fine. The distortion from the mask had cracked louder than he wanted and caused a high pitched whine to ring into his ear. His head dropped to the side and his body twitched as if the noise had bothered him, but these things only added to his patient’s fear of him. He never had any intention of fixing the distorter in his mask, if anything it helped more than it hurt. The mask wasn’t just worn to identify him or try to strike fear into his patients. It wasn’t worn to present himself in front of the Batman was a worth foe, No. The Scarecrow came before the Batman. If only for a short time before he was discovered, he was the first to face the Batman. If anything…He would never compare himself to the man in the bat mask, they were simply on two different levels entirely. The batman being a hopeless, ignorant, dream chasing, vigilante, and The Scarecrow being the God of Fear himself.
How could one compare a god to a mere man?
He rarely used the front door to anything, for several reasons. The front door became a blocked pathway for him in life. Society no longer accepted him through the front door and it became a very useful stigma. He would use whatever entrance he wanted, whenever he wanted. But as antisocial as he was, the front door never seemed like a place he wanted to enter from. It wasn’t often that he came to socialize anyway; in fact he never came to socialize. No, he was here for one purpose and that purpose was to get the case back and be on his way. The fact that his hired help was dead was just more proof that there was no reason to be here. He didn’t have time to waste with this woman, there was so much more work to be done. Henchmen were never ‘object’s that the doctor took to. He always worked alone, with the occasional expendable usage of one or two bodies, always expecting them to either not come back alive or not expect payment.
She was cleverer than he expected not to come out of the moonlight. But the fact that she hadn’t already taken the case and ran spoke wonders about her ignorance. Ra’s often kept his work between them to himself, but he thought Talia might have at least known a bit of his work. Perhaps this new project was far too important to Ra’s to let even his daughter know. A sinister smile pulled from the darkness of the mask. She would be ignorant indeed to think it not to be incredibly important. “Expendable…” He commented about the man, not caring one way or the other for him. But when she called him a stud a small twitch came into his eye. A pathetic show of a teasing affection. A lie…A mask for what she was really trying to do as The scarecrow knew all too well that emotions like that didn’t exsist. They couldn’t, because of the one simple truth that consumed every part of this world.
Now that she was aware of his presence he slowly clicked on his wrist brace and the bright yellow liquid began to glow against the darkness. It was faded but you could say it almost radiated with a hint of neon. The toxin filled into the needles of his glove and with a quick hit his hand went to the glass. Slowly he drug it down, letting the needles scrape against it, while keeping his body shrouded in the dark. “Where is it?” He asked simply through the distortion of the mask, in no mood to edge on her false affections.
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Post by mustairia on Dec 1, 2012 11:38:16 GMT -5
Hmph, he must be some braniac to be hidden in the darkness. The darkness... hiding their image. He might've changed his style or appearance to be hiding in the darkness. The moonlight was the best place to be, it seemed to be the only area around her to have light. Light seems to be his weakness... he might have been able to cut out her lights but Talia was sure he can't blow up the moon. It wasn't as if she was going to hand the case over just like that. A silver case, no telling what could be inside. Maybe she could squeeze out the answer from her father or the villain standing inside her home? Hopefully he doesn't break something. No telling where he was in her room, only the golden corners of the door could be seen and the white painting on the grain. Night didn't help the fact she needed light, though the moon did.
It wasn't as if she cared what her father planned to do. His quest was just to make the world a perfect place. She had to shoot the man with a gun instead of stab him, there were no knives around her. She prefers to use knives... the ones who take the time cut the deepest. Talia's father usually told her the things he was up to unlike keeping it to himself, surprisingly she was unknowing about the case. If it was delivered to her house, it could either mean a mistake or her father was going to come and get it while she was sleeping.Talia rarely slept at night. Her ways were getting very stale though, it was time to tighten up her act before it gets out she's a wimp. Though no man would cross that line without seeing her face. She brushed off her black, revealing dress.
Expendable... seems as though the man she killed wasn't a vital part of Scarecrows work. Disappointing. It would be worth to put him back a couple of days, though if he's in league with my father it would rather not be the cleverest thing to do in that situation. It will be a back shock towards her. He's right, men are expendable. A waste needing to be erased...
Then, she notices a yellow light fading in and out. Chemicals no doubt, that's most likely what's in the case she has. Her dad most need more chemicals for some more devious plots against Gotham. No doubt some that she will be getting involved in. It wasn't as if she was going to move, she continued to lean against the granite perch with her elbows up against the rail. It seems the toying affection seems to not be phasing him as much as she thought it would. Most convicts are erotic-crazed. Her body wanted to shiver as his needles scraped against the door, the screeching sounds penetrating her ears. Though she attempted at standing still as long as she could still staring at the darkness. Where is it he asks... easy spot that a simpleton could find out. "I would love to tell you if you tell me what's in it." Maybe he could expose the truth of whats in it, or it was just another package being sent off to her father. Expecting the excuse of I don't remember, or I didn't pack it up. She deserved the right to know considering she was in league with her father.
Perhaps he could tell, or perhaps he wont.
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Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow
"and at the end of fear...Oblivion"
Player: Jon ~
Registered On: Feb 15, 2012 20:39:14 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 941
~ Relationship Status: Won't Say I'm In Love
~ Partner: Fear
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Post by Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow on Dec 2, 2012 16:14:57 GMT -5
The Scarecrow had always preferred the darkness. He must have cost the asylum a fortune by now with how many lights they needed to have replaced in his cell. After a while they started to learn their lesson and put new preventions in his cell to protect the lights. But normally the ones to install it were far too afraid to even step into his cell. He had created hysteria at that asylum where everyone was far too afraid to deal with him. It was a running stigma he would rather keep there. Even Dr. Arkham had begun slowly removing more and more from his cell until it was almost entirely bear. It was for good reason, he would have used anything they gave him, and it was a miracle that they hadn’t removed the cot in his room yet. They knew that eventually he would find a way to use it. He never used the cot anyway, and in the darkness of his cell he claimed that he never slept. Even the night vision cameras monitoring his cell were a difficult way to determine whether he was actually sleeping in his cell, he kept far too still.
The dark was used to his advantage in several situations, but to him it was like home. It created a sense of the unknown in general society, and society always feared what they didn’t know. But they feared him even in the light. The absence of light just made things that much more intense between him and his next patient. With Ra’s daughter however, he couldn’t simply make her a patient of his own. It wouldn’t be beyond him to use toxin on her if her truly wanted to, and Ra’s would probably overlook the matter if he was given an adequate enough payment. What was in the case was indeed enough. But The Scarecrow didn’t pay with paper, paper meant nothing to him, instead this deal between the two was strictly chemical, and this newest strain was his best by far.
To be honest with himself when he began packaging it for Ra’s he had second thoughts. These second thoughts were pushed even farther by this entire incident. This breakthrough was far too important to let slip into the hands of this woman, or even into Ra’s hands. The more he thought about it the greedier his mind became with the substance. It wasn’t finished, it was in its Alpha stages, but it could be finished….He couldn’t give this to Ra’s. In fact…He didn’t want Ra’s to ever know. This of course, was a breach of his contract with him, but what Ra’s didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. No, He couldn’t let Ra’s have this, he needed to get the case from her tonight and bring it back to his lab for further testing.
But from her prying statement it didn’t seem like she was going to let the subject go so easily. Of course her eyes did graze over her slender body and revealing clothes, he had noticed that she was in them and noticed that she had tried to woo him with them but it simply wasn’t possible. The Scarecrow couldn’t be sucked in by such affection, simply because his mind had come to the overly studied conclusion that all manner of affection was fabricated. Anyone that fell prey to such things were weak men and he didn’t have time for liabilities or weaknesses. His needles scrapped the glass wall for a moment longer, letting the yellow slosh around and turn even brighter as it did, a glow that was radiant in his eyes. “It is the truth.” The distortion crackled softly and he let his hand fall away from the door. His bright glove could still be seen from the darkness.
Even if she were to look into the case it would have probably just looked like a shipment of his fear toxin. She could have easily mistaken it for it unless she used it upon someone, but if she had it would have been a terrible mistake. It would have been impossible to explain it to her, such a feeble mind, how could she possibly understand? “Where is the case?” He repeated with a bit more power behind the distortion this time. It wasn't often that The Scarecrow decided to repeat himself but with his words he began to encompass the frame of the glass and wrap his needles around the corner toward the outside.
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Post by mustairia on Dec 9, 2012 15:11:23 GMT -5
This reminded her of the game of Clue. Who's the killer? Her or him. He didn't kill anyone... not this night perhaps but another time sure. This seemed to be wasting her time. She could be out for a stroll, eating an hors d'oeuvres, or venturing out and finding some secret weapon created by the main industrial members of the city. Most are hidden in some underground bunker or room they call top secret which is infront of the front door. This back and forth was doing nothing for the both of them. The tiresome questioning of where is it is still getting on the mind of repetitive banter thrown at the both, though it's not insulting. Just a question. A question that she could answer in that minimal second of time. How bad does he want it? Bad enough for a chase or just standing inside a dark room retrieving no emotion from her. She could easy slide down the beam from her perch and forsake the package in which is inside her room, have him search for it. But that could ruin her room setup and he might just burn the place down and hope for the best.
To her surprise, he seemed to be able to do this all night long. She stands in the moonlight, speaking continuously of the questions that are on her mind while he remains his ground asking where the case is. He never answered her question of what was in the case. Scraping weak scraps made to be a weapon into her door does nothing but ruin the glass and disrupt her ears with the screeching sound. The neon-like glow brought more light to the occasion and aided on her part of the situation. The case would be more safer in her hands, with her knowledge of skills from her father and the intelligence bestowed in her family... her mind isn't feeble at all. More so clouded by what she chooses to what she wishes to do. Should she continue to play a game of talk or a game of chase?
Her silk dress wouldn't prove the best protection towards a stab or a bullet shot. In her drive way, parked a Bugatti Veyron in pitch black and blue lights to light her way. That was the only vehicle in sight of her home as of now. In the trunk was a flashlight she used in certain occasions, not in this criteria of now but in occasions she needed it in. Also in the trunk was a small gun, a couple of leather suitcases and more clutter objects of no use. A flashlight wouldn't have much use in the situation such as this either, but it's worth a small shot to mess around with the dark figure. It wasn't going to be a show off move, just a simple slide down the white stone beam next to her perch, or patio. The slippers didn't aid her either, just a thin sole with feathers and a small heel at the bottom, not worn often either.
Talia walked softly over to the beam, she rubbed it with her hands for a moment before taking a small jump onto the stone railing of the patio. The railing wasn't that tall, so it was simple jump to stand on top of it. She didn't shake neither, it was apart of her training to do things of this stature. "I would show you... lets me get some light and I could possibly find it. You've made me forget." She placed her heel on the side and began to slide down the beam, the soles made a skidding sound as the reached towards the bottom. They kept a dirt mark in the beam as she slid down it. Upon reaching a little over the halfway mark, she leaped off the pole and reached the ground. Her palms matched her feet as they hit the bottom, the shoes making a small smack sound as the soles are made of a flimsy material. She stood from her kneeling position as she brushed off the black dress, making her way to the car and unlocking the trunk. The trunk was fairly medium in size and dug into the car where the back seats were. The red flashlight was in front of the clutter, easy to grab.
She flipped the black switch of the flashlight as a yellow light turned on. It was powerful beam, enough to light up a decent amount of darkness. She began to make her way towards the front door, cracking it open as she began to beam the light inside her house. Her maid would walk outside of the house, directed by the Flashlight beam into the house. Talia remained near the doorway with the door open, she continued to flash the light around the entrances of the rooms and especially the stairway. "Come out... come out where ever you are."
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Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow
"and at the end of fear...Oblivion"
Player: Jon ~
Registered On: Feb 15, 2012 20:39:14 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 941
~ Relationship Status: Won't Say I'm In Love
~ Partner: Fear
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Post by Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow on Dec 17, 2012 9:18:12 GMT -5
Through every situation Dr. Crane could justify himself with his cause. He wasn’t a murderer, if he would have been better equipped to represent himself in court that fateful day he would have furthered the point that he had never killed anyone. But his lawyer at the time advised him that saying anything was a bad idea, a foolish…fearful man. Afraid of what one big loss could do to his career, so he took the plea of insanity. He said he saved him the shot or the chair, but Dr. Crane feared neither and compared to the other outcome, making society severely disappointed in their attempts to kill him was almost a better choice. But those days were long gone, and that time had long passed. To society’s blind veil, he was a murderer.
The doctor was an incredibly patient man; because of this he was able to tolerate her games. She wasn’t the only one that had wanted to play them with him in the past and although he didn’t have the time throughout the span of his research, getting the case back was far more important. From this moment forward he had already claimed in his mind that the case was not just coming back with him, but it would never reach Ra’s hands. After this, Ra’s didn’t deserve to have such an important piece to his research, he could horde it for himself, whatever the price and however steep.
He watched her closely from the dark, only the glow of his glove emitting the neon light to show where he was. Her reaction to the scrapes on the glass was enough to make him almost smile through the confines of his mask. He was silent except for the light click of a disturbed fan on the right side of his mask that had gotten that way for whatever reason, he was often pushed or shoved in his masks and they didn’t always make it out in tack, but it didn’t matter. If Jonathan didn’t want it to be known he was here he wouldn’t be known.
To further prove his theories on her reactions that came to the forefront and began to cloud his mind she jumped the railing onto the beam to slide below. He made no immediate attempt to answer or follow her, but instead walked slowly to the edge to see where she had gone. A car below was where she was after something, a light source that she had spoken of moments before. She wanted to play with him in his element? Did she not truly understand?...Of course she didn’t. The Scarecrow turned from the railing and went back inside. He had moments to find the case on his own before she was back up here, not that she was any threat to him in his mind, but if he could get to the case that’s all that mattered. He wasn’t discrete about the situation at all as he moved through the dark and flipped tables over. He ran his hands over counters and to side tables, trying to find what was most important to him.
Finally he’d come across it, a light silver case that sat at the edge of an end table. Such a place for this delicate object that resided inside. The truth to all things, and she had treated it like it was nothing. Carefully Jonathan opened the case and began taking out the large property within to tuck tightly into a compartment of his needled glove. He wouldn’t use it now, it wasn’t the time. Now that he had it, he turned back out the door and moved through the dark house. He could have gone out the way he had come in, but something much darker had crept into his mind while he had waited. The more time he’d spent in front of her the more time he had to ask himself that one burning question that was never far from his mind, and now…It was too late. He stepped quietly out the door and went to the main hall, he descended down a short flight of stairs and then came to another that was near the opening to her home.
He heard her beckon to the dark, to the nightmare that she so craved. His hands fanned out his needles as he walked on the second floor. A flash of the light chased the darkness that shrouded around him away for a few moments and cast an ominous black shadow across the wall of the span of his needs and mask. Despite the flash of light he moved immediately afterward letting her play her game. The house was quiet, all but the light click of the right fan on his mask, an ambient residual noise that seemed to tighten the atmosphere around them and as she panned the light again he made his way down the stairs and closer to her, ready to approach her in the place which HE called home. “Are you scared?” The distortion whispered from behind her.
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Last Edit: Dec 28, 2012 11:45:34 GMT -5 by mustairia
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Post by mustairia on Dec 28, 2012 11:44:25 GMT -5
Nothing but old decor' and bookshelves to spruce things up in the hallway. Hundreds of drawn books she never reads, they sit on the shelves continously decaying in the home. The yellow light of the red Flashlight began to search around the home. The same old look as before though it would most likely cost more than over half of Gotham's citizens. He was upstairs in her room, though like a shadow, he could quickly appear from one area to another. The case's location was most likely compromised, the room most likely ravaged, and her terrace gone. Doctor Crane wasn't a familiar person to her, possibly her father but not her. He was everything she least expected. Throw on a mask, grab a gun then call yourself a "Villan." This one worked with chemicals as it seemed, and fingers alike butter knives.
The confrontation seem to ecalate greatly after she exited the room. Though no more talking was said, the atmosphere in the darkness seemed to hang heavy over her. A simple sprint down the stairs could reach her. Hopefully someone will trip and fall down the stairs. Her father could show up in the interactions between the two, to pick up the package and nothing else. Her minor mansion wasn't hard to find up a hill with the curved drive-way. Her nails twisted more and more as she gripped the flashlight searching the house for the figure. She hid the minor pistol she had in her pocket, not going to use it but it's rather favored to carry one with all the villans and tyrany appearing around Gotham. The night seemed very long, but ending soon... very soon.
Playtime was ending as the darkness seemed to continue on throughout the house. The lights seemed to be blown, the gleaming moonlight and the light of the flashlight appeared through the house. Not enough to find him mostly likely. Until she felt the breaths on her neck, a dark figure behind her that she couldn't recognize, a person who remains vigilant watching her every move of desperation. Fear, something she remains to keep inside her caged like a wild tiger at a zoo. She meerly turned her head to the side and looked over her shoulder. Some of her bruenette hair began to hang as the flashlight slipped out of her hands, falling short on the floor. "Fear is the opposite of perfection, in which something I am. As you should be the one in fear...You call the darkness home as which the darkness is caged within my home. Keep in mind, you're the guest."
She continued to speak over her shoulder, the Arabian accent she had was still in her voice as she continued to speak soon ending the small words she had to speak. Merely a smile and a glare will keep him in check.
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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 6, 2013 17:33:20 GMT -5
The fact that he had what he wanted, but was still following her wasn’t unusual behavior for him. Even he was aware that he was doing it in a way. But he couldn’t help himself, how could he resist the chance to find out? To have a piece of that, a part of her that was too precious to give up. But the doctor did know when it was time to step away, even if at times he was often in trouble before that happened. This was one of the rare instances where he was chasing after someone that was vital for his survival to leave alone.
Not that death was ever an issue.
The survival of his research meant everything to him. It came before anything in his life and it came before everything in anyone else’s. There was nothing in the entire world that was more important than what he was doing. Especially whatever folly of a purpose Talia and her father were trying to accomplish, but as long as they held the keys to his research he was bound by their chains. But Ra’s daughter should have never had anything to do with this; her hand should have never had a part in this. He shouldn’t even have to speak with her for any reason…..This meant he had to speak with Ra’s again…and that he wasn’t looking forward to.
If he could just get this family out of his work things would be better. They were blind cultists out for their own devices. They were a poison upon themselves, a blight upon the world that was already such a blight upon itself, and they still couldn’t understand that every action they did was because of the work he did. His research was the perfect truth within everything, the very reason that they moved and operated. But they would never see it that way, too blinded by their false hope to create a better world, when the world was beautiful as it was. Every living thing in existence acted out of its fears already…even if they couldn’t see it.
Her extremely false answer to his question made him smile from behind the cover of the mask. “Do you really believe… You know what fear is?” He laughed through the crackles and pops of the static. She had no idea what fear was but her time would come. For right now he was powerless to do anything to her and as tempting as it was he had to restrain himself….Any price for his research…Their business was conluded. The Scarecrow had what he needed and now it was his time to leave. So with that thought in mind he ghosted his hands over her her shoulders moments before he turned on his heels and headed for the door. “Just remember…You invited the Nightmare in…”
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