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[hungover-and-broke-student]

"Don't fall asleep."

"Is that advice?" She fought back a yawn, "Or a threat?" There was a bit of a joke to her voice but it's best to be sure with Crane.

[monomaniiametus]

Crane followed if only to see where she slept. He would have to keep an eye on her on case the opportunity to inject the antidote presented itself as necessary. He made himself comfortable on a pew in the first row and turned to lean over the back.

"To make sure the air retains a very specific level of saturation. The vents circulate air, but it is but a completely closed loop. If I do not keep the low dose going I risk losing the atmosphere I worked so hard to cultivate. Getting it back to this perfect level of saturation just before a meeting might not work as intended. Besides, one of my followers could wander in at any time. People seek this place because they're miserable and in search of something. I offer what few other religions can; actual peace. Chemically induced. Of course, for that salvation to be appreciated they must endure at least some toxin, some small dose of anxiety. Not enough to cause a panic, but it will make them more accepting when I preach about the wrongs of the world- things that already worry them and are made more vivid within the church."

Whether or not Riley actually listened didn't matter to Jonathan. He enjoyed hearing himself speak regardless and he loved answering questions about his method so long as he was not speaking to some useless doctor at Arkham.

[hungover-and-broke-student]

"Don't fall asleep."

"Is that advice?" She fought back a yawn, "Or a threat?" There was a bit of a joke to her voice but it's best to be sure with Crane.

[monomaniiametus]

At least she wasn't going to go out and get probably murdered. Or rained on, since Gotham could scarce go a day without the skies opening wide with the stuff. The good doctor let his hand fall away.

"If you say so, Child." He honestly did not believe her, but also did not feel like arguing- especially since he could just jab her with a syringe while she slept of she seemed too restless.

"I would suggest the pews closer to the front of you don't plan to sleep on the floor. They tend to be cleaner." He would not hire anyone to clean, but did consider getting one of the congregation to linger around the place cleaning. It couldn't be that hard to do, most his followers were drug addicts and he had the drugs they wanted.

[hungover-and-broke-student]

"Don't fall asleep."

"Is that advice?" She fought back a yawn, "Or a threat?" There was a bit of a joke to her voice but it's best to be sure with Crane.

[monomaniiametus]

Sleeping outside was a perfectly good solution to the problem, and Jonathan had to applaud that. Unfortunately they lived in Gotham where any number of horrible things could befall a sleeping woman. The good doctor would be bored without Riley to bother and there was a shortage of anyone else he bothered with outside of experiments.

Crane let it the most inconvenienced sigh he possibly could and reached out to grab Riley's arm to stop her. "I do have some anti toxin that you could take. I normally save it for sermons or as a bargaining chip, but I suppose it won't take a large dose for you to sleep soundly."

To most anyone else Crane saying anything about how much of a dose could help them sleep soundly would have been a thinly veiled threat.

"I forget; are you afraid of needles?" He smiled innocently.

[hungover-and-broke-student]

“It’s still not healed, but it’s getting there.”

Riley stole a glance at the grisly wound, still ugly and red and felt a bit of pride at her sewing skills. "Well that's good to hear. You know, you never did tell me what happened."

[monomaniiametus]

As though it were as easy as telling the clowns not to have knives out maybe searching them before hand. In more controlled experiments he would, but in the free range trials stabbings were an unfortunate risk of the trade.

"Pity," Crane drawled, "You did a very good job and it could be very useful to have a medic on the church. Perhaps it is even something you could make money off of more than" He waved a hand in value gesture, "Whatever it is you go to school for." He would not outright tell Riley to do anything because he doubted it would work, but the good doctor would absolutely passive aggressively dance around the suggestion.

[hungover-and-broke-student]

"Don't fall asleep."

"Is that advice?" She fought back a yawn, "Or a threat?" There was a bit of a joke to her voice but it's best to be sure with Crane.

[monomaniiametus]

Was there really a difference with Jonathan? He snorted to show his amusement, "We'll say advise. I keep low doses of toxin on the air of the church. It should not be much of a concern, but you do run the risk of nightmares if you sleep here "

[hungover-and-broke-student]

“It’s still not healed, but it’s getting there.”

Riley stole a glance at the grisly wound, still ugly and red and felt a bit of pride at her sewing skills. "Well that's good to hear. You know, you never did tell me what happened."

[monomaniiametus]

“No,” Jonathan drawled, “I did not.”

He considered leaving the subject at that, but he supposed he owed at least some expectation to the person who patched him up. He also half-considered the value in giving Riley more medical supplies should he need treatment in the future. Something to toss around in the back of his mind during their conversation.

“I was running some experiments on some clowns. The idiots who follow Joker sometimes think themselves beyond fear and unable to react to my toxin. I enjoy showing them how wrong they are from time to time. Unfortunately one of them was violent when afraid and happened to have an impressively sized knife. Unexpected, really. You would think that those who throw their lot in with that breed of crazy would all be berserkers when terrified, but it’s actually hardly the case.”

He could have gone on for a while about why it’s hardly shocking for people drawn to that grease painted ass were more likely to fold or freeze under the weight of their fears. He did not. The consideration he had tossed out in the back of his mind were retrieved with a decision. He stared at Riley, “Have you ever considered studying medicine? Maybe something more akin to a field medic. Less diagnosis and more patching up traumatic injuries.”

[hungover-and-broke-student]

🔴 4 :)

my  muse  applying  pressure  your  muses  bleeding  wound.

It was a fairly uneventful evening at the hideout, flipping through the channels as she waited for Crane to return from.... whatever he was doing. At the sound of his return, any sarcastic joke about being tardy dissolved at the sight of blood pouring down his arm. Scrambling off the couch she grabbed a towel, unsure of how to deal with such a mess or even what to say.

"What the hell happened?!" Staying calm was becoming harder and harder as the towel became quickly soaked in her hands. "What do I do?"

[monomaniiametus]

hungover-and-broke-student​:

She listened, distracting herself from his sickly, paling face by pressing the area above the wound. She ran through her options. There wasn’t an iron, nor any clothes that would warrant its use. She briefly eyed the gas stove and considered using a knitting needle but briefly remembered a time when she got a particularly bad burn at a camp fire. The smell of singed human flesh isn’t a pleasant one to mix with thickening blood. “H-hey Crane, keep talking ok? Don’t fall asleep or anything.”

The wound was still bleeding but it had slowed down enough for her to survey the damage. “O-okay hold on a sec, I’m gonna grab a sewing kit. Don’t die.” The excuse for a joke was mostly for her own comfort as she tore through her drawers to find the small plastic box filled with needles and thread.

After another minute she gathered her supplies: the last half of a bottle of rubbing alcohol, a few clean wash cloths and said sewing kit. Wiping away the blood, she knotted the thread with trembling hands and grit her teeth before piercing it through his skin with a soft ‘sorry’ under her breath.

Loop after loop, minute after agonizing minute she stitched the wound shut. It wasn’t the prettiest job, but he started looking a little less deathly pale by the time she finished. “Now you can’t yell at me me if that gets infected, I did my best.”

The pressure above the wound was noted absently; it seemed very far away in the face of the pain from his wound. If he survived he would have no small amount of revenge to exact- after he rewarded Riley, of course. Maybe he could threaten a teacher of hers into giving a good grade. Or steal text books. A wide assortment so she could learn things outside her classes. Or sell them. That thought made him vaguely sick- such a waste of a good book!- but that could also have been wooziness from blood loss.

“I’ll try not to,” Jonathan snorted; a slight smile playing out on his lips. He cracked an eye open, but it slid shut again before Riley returned with her kit.

He normally stitched his own skin up. He felt he could have done it on his own. There was something novel about someone else wanting to do it that kept him from insisting he tend to the wound himself. That, and he was tired. Exhausted.

The last time he had been tended to it had been because the GCPD got him medical treatment before he was shipped to Arkham. If there had been time to send him to the asylum to be treated there he was sure they would have. Crane could not understand the logic of ‘he needs to go to the hospital so he can go to jail,’ but he had benefited from it so he had no place to argue. A breathy giggle left the good doctor at the thought.

The burn of rubbing alcohol on his wound killed the giggle and replaced it with a low hiss. Jonathan’s eyes snapped open and his body tensed, ready to strike for the brief second it took for him to realize where the burning had been from and why. He was safe. He was being treated. He force himself to relax and his eyes shut again. Even the pain from being stitched did not coax them open again.

“I’ll steal antibiotics to be safe,” Crane mumbled, speech slurred slightly by sleepiness and the blood he had lost. “Thank you, Child. If I die, avenge me.” He didn’t expect to die. He also didn’t expect Riley to kill anyone for him. He hadn’t gotten her that far along in her devotion to his church yet. A work in progress.

[sleeping-ranna]

reblog this if your icon could kill a man

[dgraysonafterdark]

@monomaniametus liked this post for a sinful starter

Jonathan's new formula wasn't dabbling in the nature of fear as was claimed, but instead was a derivative of Pamela's Isley's pheromone toxin....in other words Corvid had been in a state of heightened arousal for several hours already.

On the verge of begging, Corvid was gasping for breath. "Jonathan....please, your toys have only helped so much..."

[monomaniiametus]

Sometimes it was necessary to take a small break; let himself focus on other things so that he could return to his real work at a later time refreshed and ready to press on. Other times he just wanted to see his bird pretty and begging. Not violently. Crane smiled at the sight before him and reached out to ghost his fingers down Corvid’s chest.

“Please what?” He knew exactly what was wanted of him. With his other hand he pressed a button, turning up the intensity of the vibration of the toy in his bird. “I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific, my dear Corvid.” 

[blackwingsbluedings]

💕

Send 💕 for a random/sudden kiss from my muse.

Jonathan was in the middle of explaining his latest plan when Corvid pulls him into a passionate but distracting kiss. "You're talking too much, Jon." He chuckles.

[monomaniiametus]

It took no time at all for Jonathan to wrap his arms around Corvid’s waist and happily return the kiss until the need for air pulled him away. After that it took about ten seconds of owlish blinking before he realized what had been said to him. “Apologies.” From anyone else and Jonathan would have bristled at the close contact and at being told he talked too much. From his Corvid he simply smiled gently, “Perhaps this discussion should be tabled for now.”

He leaned in close to steal another kiss from his bird.

[blackwingsbluedings]

Property of Jonathan Crane

Send me ‘ Property of ____’ for my muses reaction to yours claiming them.

Several months ago Corvid being 'claimed' would have been nothing but a reminder of his servitude, a way for Jonathan to keep his creation in line....but now.

Corvid shivered under Jonathan's touch as the scientist marked his bare abdomen with a felt marker. "Is it odd, that being your 'property' turns me on, Jonathan?"

[monomaniiametus]

There were a few things Jonathan could have said to that- most of them an explanation why his Corvid would have such a reaction. Jonathan did not want to say any of those things. After all the work he had put into his creation he did not want to risk undoing any of it by explaining the psychology behind his work. He put the cap back on the marker and examined his work- the neat handwriting that marked Corvid as his.

“Odd?” Crane reached out and traced his fingers over Richard’s skin, around what he’d written so as not to risk smearing the ink. “No. I find it more flattering than anything else.”

[rpmasterlistblog]

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[monomaniiametus]

rotttnapple​:

A tremble has taken over him, the closer his father the monster the gets the worse it becomes, consuming him until it feels as if his bones will crumble into dust from the force of it. His mind is beginning to retreat in on itself, turning away and burrowing down into safer places. Places far from monsters and the pain they inflict. He knows it’s wrong to deny what is asked of him but everything is so much worse if he utters a sound. So much worse if he cries. His heart is thudding against his chest, thudding there like a drum. 

His father’s finger on his face is cold. Is his father dead? Dead and come back to haunt him now, so far from home? Charley whimpers, soft, then cringes as if someone had threatened to strike him for the sound. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t dare to, only shakes his head in the smallest motion of refusal. There’s a voice in his head repeating the same mantra over and over again: I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. 

If Charley was speaking he wasn’t aware of it, eyes becoming glassy and vacant as his mind desperately tried to pull him away to safer spaces. His father hated when he did that. He hated it intensely, but it was a hard idea to refuse. He wanted to slip away…turn inside himself. 

Close. The boy was so, so very close to being lost to oblivion.

Scarebeast could not have asked for a more delightful subject. Every minute detail, every trace of fear from the boy was caught and devoured by the beast’s hungry gaze. Fear permeated the air so thick the creature could taste it on his tongue. He wanted more. He wanted to watch Charley crumble and break and succumb to the worst his mind could conjure up.

The skeletal hand that had been too gentle before gripped the boy’s blond hair; a sharp immediate tug to get a better- closer- look at Charley’s face. So exquisite under the influence of the toxin. Such a sweet little treat for Scarebeast to enjoy until the end. Idly he wondered if the boy would end up comatose or if his poor little heart would give out first. Humans were such frail things. Beneath him. Created for his entertainment.

His long, slick tongue lulled out from his mouth and was dragged up along Charley’s face to delight further in the taste of terror. The act was agonizingly slow and left a chemical-laced trail more potent than the gaseous toxin. Condensed and meant for application directly onto skin. Truly every bit of the beast’s body was designed for one horrible purpose.

[monomaniiametus]

@rotttnapple continued

Scarebeast watched with eyes narrowed to slits; a wide grin split his burlap face. He leaned down- all fours, chest almost to the floor- and inched closer like a curious animal. He sniffed, taking in the sweet smell of terror from the blond. "Yesses," It came out as more of a hiss than proper speech and mingled with the toxic mist that slipped out his lips.

He reached out and gently- achingly gently- traced a bone thin finger down Charley's face, "Scream for me, boy."

[monomaniiametus]

thehighscarecrow​:

Was he starting to tear up? Running a hand over his face Jon made sure to hide any sign of weakness or emotion. Waking up from a coma made it hard to keep his jackass expression on strong.

“Yeah mats would probably be a good thing. Or one of those chairs so I can just sit there and watch some TV while I scrub.” Swallowing hard he tried to keep everything focused in his brain; Crow was out searching already it seemed. “Camera’s were shot out and my security room firebombed. Whoever did it really didn’t want me to know who they were. If I had two pills to rub together I’d go to Eddie but as of right now I’m fucking sober. With my bounty I’d end up in Arkham before even getting a word out in front of the bat. And with his history he’d probably fucking adopt her before I could stop him.” His shoulders slumped a bit and he actually looked haunted for a moment. “She’s all I’ve got left man…”

Jonathan did not comment or so much as raise a brow at his counterpart’s behavior. He honestly could not remember caring about anything enough to have an emotional reaction outside of sadistic joy, mild irritation, giddiness, or rage. Maybe ‘emotionally stunted’ was the term, or ‘mostly apathetic’. Either way, on a clinical level he could understand emotional responses and there was nothing to gain by mentioning what may or may not be sadness or distress.

“You’ll have her back soon enough. Either your Bat won’t recognize me or he will- but I will confront him about your daughter. I’m nimble; I’m sure I can get the important details out before he can catch me.” Of course the thought of Batman adopting the child or sending her to some kind of orphanage was unideal. He crossed his arms and frowned thoughtfully, “Or I could talk to Nygma for you. Sobriety is something I am used to, and dealing with him in that state I am more than capable of. Unfortunately I have no money in this universe and I honestly don’t know if what I have in my own will be accepted.” Not that he had much money to his name- mostly all of it was tied up in things for his work. “Do you have something I can offer to pay him with? Or, even better, some bit of information or something to bribe, blackmail, or otherwise coerce him into helping?”

[monomaniiametus]

thehighscarecrow​:

Taking a deep breath Jon resisted the urge to let Crow out to smash some heads. Running his tongue across his teeth he decided to choose his words carefully; or not.

“My Jarvis is dead and that child is all I’ve got left of him. Killed the bitch who took his head and carved the babe outta her in the process. She’s only seven so I doubt a headless necrotic zombie hunted her down while I was out of it. Plus the coma was because I fell in the shower…I think.” 

Oh. Well that was some disturbing news to hear. Not so much about the child- Jonathan hardly cared for or about those- but he did enjoy Jarvis. The thought that one was so brutally killed was depressing.

“Aside from advising you invest in those mats old people put in the shower so they don’t slip, I think the place to start would be the lab. If you’ve security cameras of any kind we start there- either the footage or a list of anyone who can and might disable them. Or maybe a list of people who would hurt you, want Alice, that sort of thing. I’m no detective. Although... Have you considering throwing yourself before the mercy of Nygma? Or the Bat? They’re detectives. They could likely help you find your Alice.”

[monomaniiametus]

thehighscarecrow​:

“Bitch I was in a fucking coma!” He frowned and nearly slapped his doppelgangers hands to mess with him. “While I was out someone raided my lab and stole Alice. If it wasn’t you then who the fuck was it?”

Well wasn’t that some news. “Perhaps your coma is a wake-up call to be less indulgent in your drugs, hmm?” 

“I honestly don’t know who or what your Alice is, but based solely on the name I would suspect Jarvis is behind her abduction. But that’s only a guess.”