And it's 'go, boys, go...'

Gotham's elite stand upon the burial mounds of our broken families. Never forget that your lives are worth less than pennies to them.

[processwoman]

It's an urban legend whispered by the blue-collar workers of Gotham's manufacturing facilities.

If the equipment is not maintained, if the machinery is not treated with the proper respect, if the robber-baron titans of industry allow their factories to fall into disrepair, the Spirit of the Machines will come. The song of clanging metal and the wage-slaves' laments is her summons to oil the rusting gears of labor with the blood of the corrupt. She has been lauded as a folk hero of the poor workers, whispered about in awe and terror by foolish youths searching for a scare, cursed by the corrupt CEOs and businessmen living in the Diamond District's glass towers, and is invoked as an avenger of oppressed laborers.

In a kinder world, maybe all these claims would be true.

But here and now, Doctor Persephone Maleficence Raven is the ghoulish 'Process Man', an undead monster driven only by a thirst for revenge. Her burning hate will never be quenched until the heirs of old-money Gotham have all been destroyed.

Appearance: https://www.tumblr.com/processwoman/790765792035815424/character-reference-doctor-persephone-m-raven?source=share

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Villain/antivillain DC comics roleplay blog, not going to be quite so active as my other roleplay blog.

There's a lot of themes about body horror, worker's rights abuses, corporate corruption, and death involved with this character's backstory and motivations, so please be aware of that and keep yourself safe, no hard feelings if you block this account. Let me know what trigger warnings you want me to use in the tags.

Because of how serious these themes are, I'm not quite sure yet if I'll allow things like magic anons or silly prompts, but if you have silly asks, go ahead. Depending on the context, I might answer the asks OOC (ex. Question: "What's her most embarrassing secret?' Answer: "When Persephone was 8, she told her little brother that walnuts were dried squirrel brains as a joke, but when she tried to tell him the truth he didn't believe it and that 'fun fact' became his favorite thing to say at parties."), but depending on how much attention this blog gets, it might be good to lighten things up just a little bit.

More to come (eventually)

[processwoman]

hello~ my good doctor

I did manage to pull the uh "lament" thing in Wayne manor

if you wreck havoc do let me watch

(@pistole-prince-of-fools)

You did, didn't you? I have to say I'm impressed. Were I still able to give it, you'd have my gratitude.

My plans are usually slow to start with. Can't go rushing onto the production line without knowing your machines, after all.

But when the time has come, I will consider letting you bear witness.

[arkhams-knighted]

so about the militia

how many men strong?

A few thousand, at most. I don't keep track of the new recruits and who's died and all that.

[processwoman]

It would be stronger if you stopped butchering your workers and their families. But then, that would require brains, wouldn't it?

[arkhams-knighted]

I do have brains. I think slaughtering as I please is rooting out the weak. The militia is stronger without broken chains.

[processwoman]

Get rid of all of your 'broken chains' without fixing or replacing them first, and you'll put more strain on the ones that remain. You'll find all of your chains broken, and no one will dare work for you. Or maybe you will find that broken chains recoil when they snap.

[arkhams-knighted]

I don't think so. Fear and intimidation is always power. I do not need to fix a broken chain, I strengthen the rest by picking it out.

[processwoman]

You don't have even the darnedest clue how engineering works, kid. What are they even teaching you in school these days? Who put you in charge, rotzlöffel?

[arkhams-knighted]

I know very well how engineering works. But I simply don't care to apply it to something as stupid as people.

[processwoman]

Stay out of my warehouses if you know what's good for you, You're not too old to be taught a lesson, and no one's ever too young to die.

[arkhams-knighted]

I think you're underestimating me.

[processwoman]

No, I think you are underestimating me.

You can die. You can feel pain. If you were torn apart by a careless machinery error, you would die. Gruesomely, but you wouldn't suffer long.

I don't sleep. I don't eat. I don't feel pain. I never rot. I can, have, and will survive and put myself back together as many times as it takes for my plans to come to fruition.

Because I cannot die.

[arkhams-knighted]

I can take pain. A quick, gruesome death is nothing to a long, painful one. Nothing can be worse than what I have already been through.

Your life seems to be quite boring, then. Are you even really you if you're rebuilding yourself? Think about Theseus' ship.

[processwoman]

I have not been myself for a long time. But as long as the hate burns, as long as our souls cry out for revenge, we cannot stop. My identity is meaningless.

(Mutti... Tatti... little brother, what am I now? I miss you...)

[arkhams-knighted]

Revenge. That's what you're looking for?

I understand the drive. My goal is to exact revenge, as well. We seem to have more in common than I'd expected. Hm.

[processwoman]

We are nothing alike. Not as long as you lash out left and right at your brothers in arms.

[arkhams-knighted]

so about the militia

how many men strong?

A few thousand, at most. I don't keep track of the new recruits and who's died and all that.

[processwoman]

It would be stronger if you stopped butchering your workers and their families. But then, that would require brains, wouldn't it?

[arkhams-knighted]

I do have brains. I think slaughtering as I please is rooting out the weak. The militia is stronger without broken chains.

[processwoman]

Get rid of all of your 'broken chains' without fixing or replacing them first, and you'll put more strain on the ones that remain. You'll find all of your chains broken, and no one will dare work for you. Or maybe you will find that broken chains recoil when they snap.

[arkhams-knighted]

I don't think so. Fear and intimidation is always power. I do not need to fix a broken chain, I strengthen the rest by picking it out.

[processwoman]

You don't have even the darnedest clue how engineering works, kid. What are they even teaching you in school these days? Who put you in charge, rotzlöffel?

[arkhams-knighted]

I know very well how engineering works. But I simply don't care to apply it to something as stupid as people.

[processwoman]

Stay out of my warehouses if you know what's good for you, You're not too old to be taught a lesson, and no one's ever too young to die.

[arkhams-knighted]

I think you're underestimating me.

[processwoman]

No, I think you are underestimating me.

You can die. You can feel pain. If you were torn apart by a careless machinery error, you would die. Gruesomely, but you wouldn't suffer long.

I don't sleep. I don't eat. I don't feel pain. I never rot. I can, have, and will survive and put myself back together as many times as it takes for my plans to come to fruition.

Because I cannot die.

[arkhams-knighted]

I can take pain. A quick, gruesome death is nothing to a long, painful one. Nothing can be worse than what I have already been through.

Your life seems to be quite boring, then. Are you even really you if you're rebuilding yourself? Think about Theseus' ship.

[processwoman]

I have not been myself for a long time. But as long as the hate burns, as long as our souls cry out for revenge, we cannot stop. My identity is meaningless.

(Mutti... Tatti... little brother, what am I now? I miss you...)

[processwoman]

Hello doctor

an odd figure in a masquerade outfit and a horned bird mask approaches boots clicking against the ground as they do so

I think I have something that may interest you

(@pistole-prince-of-fools)

The Process Man had no time for nonsense right now. There was an example to be made of several board members of Ace Chemicals earlier that night, and now she had only ten minutes to make it back to one of her haunts before the rain started back up. Rain in this part of Gotham could hardly be called 'fresh', but running water was running water. Powerful as she was, she was still beholden to the laws of undeath.

However, this stranger had been wise enough to address her as 'Doctor'. She preened inwardly at the show of respect. This was a rare surprise indeed.

"Talk quickly." The mountain of a woman barely slowed her pace for the stranger. "You have my attention for as long as you can keep up."

[pistole-prince-of-fools]

the other figure manages to keep up seemingly just floating next to the woman

Well I thought to offer my support

you see I too despise the upper class and thought helping you would be a wise decision

I have resources, networks, information, men anything you need

all in exchange for your being successful

[processwoman]

"I have no need for your assistance then. I've watched this city sprout and fester since before your grandpa was born. I know all of Gotham, above and below, and the above and below of Gotham's yester years. I know where sewers stagnate because they clotted with dead bodies decades ago and were erased from the town records. I know where maintenance tunnels were boarded off and patched over with drywall when they were deemed too dangerous for use. I don't need your networks, and I can't say that I ever find myself in need of poor souls willing to lay down their lives for a cause they don't believe in and a steady paycheck. Nothing happens in this city without me knowing about it."

Beneath her goggles, Persephone's eye flits to the overhang of a faded brick apartment building. Something flashes patina-green, and is gone the next instant.

"If you really want to help me, kid, go off and become a journalist. I don't need any more Guy Fawkes fanboys shinning around like Thompson's colt to distract me."

[pistole-prince-of-fools]

one grown ass woman

two what about resources?

surely you would want men, gadgets gizmos those sort of things

money?

world runs on money

might as well make sure it’s running efficiently

when oil pools in one part of the machine you gotta replace it after all~

[processwoman]

"If I need those, I will make them. I am well aware that this forsaken city runs on money, but I can assure you that my machinations do not... And don't you go getting the chutzpah to talk to me about machines."

A fortunately placed cinder block (or unfortunately placed, in case of the cinder block) is pulverized with a heavy stomp that makes a sound like a hydraulic press.

"When a part must be replaced, I will procure the materials and make and install the replacement with my own hands. I will do this as many times as I need. I don't need your baby hands all over my work."

[pistole-prince-of-fools]

….

……..

khehehehe

I can assure you I have quite

She opens her cloak revealing she’s been riding on some odd looking floating bricks holograms….

The toys

now please do not condescend me

I may be younger than you but I can assure you I am not a fucking child without experience of the world

[processwoman]

The good doctor is not amused by the floating bricks. She reaches up for the metal half mask on her face. Leaning in close, she pulls it down just enough to reveal the machinery that replaces her jaws and screeches.

Ś̸̺̱͖̜̫͉͓̂͛̒́̑̋͐̑̂͠C̵̢̧̜̥͕̰̪̣̯̹̠̫̙̯̬͓͈̻͕̠͍̗͕͕̈́͐͒̂̀̍͑̀́̿̇̏́̐͋́͒̔͛̀̿̂̀̈́̆̊̀̃̎̍͘͘̚͜͝͝͝ͅͅȒ̴̡̡̨̨̛̛̛̟̞̪̟̳̦̤̟̫̥̫̻̻̝̭̹̈́̌̀́̌̓̿̓̈̀̋͊͒̑̿͒͋̅͒̀̐̈́͒͆̅͋͊͗̾͘̕͝͝͝͝ͅA̵̡͎̖̭̹̬͉͙̱̹̙̥̩̟̠̐̓͆̈́̂͋̇̉́̄̾̓̾̀̂̅̿̋̅̓̀͊̆͗̓̒̓̎͆̃̊͂̒́͛̚̚̚̕͝͝͠͝ͅM̸̨̢̼̟͕̗̙͎̩͖̻͙̩̳̪͖̟̯͈̦̹̐̑̇̍͑̀̿̓̎̄̆̑͜͠ͅͅ

[pistole-prince-of-fools]

…

alright you have bad breath and a cyborg jaw what else is new the sky is green now?

Honestly how are you supposed to get anything meaningful done if you accept the help of none?

support is the greatest strength of all

turning away everyone will leave you alone and weak

seen it happen so many times

then again you’re already dead so what’s being more dead?

Do try not to get cemented in the harbor

[processwoman]

Oy vey. The girl is a meshugener. Why is it that reckless children and young adults seem to flock to her? She is not anyone's mother. Every nice bone that she had in her body became brittle or stiff from heavy metal and chemical exposure. She was not 'groovy' or whatever the kids were saying these days. She is not pretty, or charismatic. Was it the horrific workplace 'accidents' and career sabotage? Were young people into gore and violent behavior nowadays? 'Edgy', or whatever it was that Annie had called her that one time?

They need to stop before they get hurt. She is no longer a safe person to be around.

She clicks her mask back into place. "If you want to help me so badly, get me permission to enter Wayne Enterprise." A century and a half, and she still has never been summoned into their factories.

[pistole-prince-of-fools]

oh well if I have a thing for you!

you see I recently came into quite the blackmail

an entire view of Wayne Manor and

evidence of him being batman or at least one of if not batman's BIGGEST benefactor

a good friend of mine scoped the thing out

I just wanted to steal billionaires money and give to the me poor but that little rat bastard was hiding so much more

I can give you all that precious precious info

[processwoman]

"That means nothing to me if I cannot enter. Unless the lamentations are sung, I'm not able to take one step into any of their buildings."

[pistole-prince-of-fools]

hmm?

what does that mean?

if you need I could likely find a way to get you in

[processwoman]

Persephone stops. The air is filled with a deep, haunting melody that causes the world to slow to a crawl.

"A process man am I and I’m telling you no lie,

I work and breath among the fumes that trail across the sky;

There’s thunder all around me and a poison in the air,

There’s a lousy smell that smacks o’ hell and dust all in my hair..."

It's not that the undead ghoul is a good singer or anything. Her voice is quite mundane, if not deeper than the average woman's. But there's a dark and mournful magic to the words.

"Get inside their facilities and sing that song. I will handle the rest."

[pistole-prince-of-fools]

alrighty then Dr Persephone

would you prefer if I called you Dread Persephone?

it was an epithet of old for her

[processwoman]

"Call me what you will. I don't care for it."

[pistole-prince-of-fools]

aight I'll just call you "the doctor"

best to keep some anonymity around

well then I'll see you later

report in about a week

[processwoman]

"Very well. Now scram."

Strange kid. Or "grown woman". There's a simmering of jealous hatred that rises up within her cold, dead heart.

[arkhams-knighted]

so about the militia

how many men strong?

A few thousand, at most. I don't keep track of the new recruits and who's died and all that.

[processwoman]

It would be stronger if you stopped butchering your workers and their families. But then, that would require brains, wouldn't it?

[arkhams-knighted]

I do have brains. I think slaughtering as I please is rooting out the weak. The militia is stronger without broken chains.

[processwoman]

Get rid of all of your 'broken chains' without fixing or replacing them first, and you'll put more strain on the ones that remain. You'll find all of your chains broken, and no one will dare work for you. Or maybe you will find that broken chains recoil when they snap.

[arkhams-knighted]

I don't think so. Fear and intimidation is always power. I do not need to fix a broken chain, I strengthen the rest by picking it out.

[processwoman]

You don't have even the darnedest clue how engineering works, kid. What are they even teaching you in school these days? Who put you in charge, rotzlöffel?

[arkhams-knighted]

I know very well how engineering works. But I simply don't care to apply it to something as stupid as people.

[processwoman]

Stay out of my warehouses if you know what's good for you, You're not too old to be taught a lesson, and no one's ever too young to die.

[arkhams-knighted]

I think you're underestimating me.

[processwoman]

No, I think you are underestimating me.

You can die. You can feel pain. If you were torn apart by a careless machinery error, you would die. Gruesomely, but you wouldn't suffer long.

I don't sleep. I don't eat. I don't feel pain. I never rot. I can, have, and will survive and put myself back together as many times as it takes for my plans to come to fruition.

Because I cannot die.

[processwoman]

Hello doctor

an odd figure in a masquerade outfit and a horned bird mask approaches boots clicking against the ground as they do so

I think I have something that may interest you

(@pistole-prince-of-fools)

The Process Man had no time for nonsense right now. There was an example to be made of several board members of Ace Chemicals earlier that night, and now she had only ten minutes to make it back to one of her haunts before the rain started back up. Rain in this part of Gotham could hardly be called 'fresh', but running water was running water. Powerful as she was, she was still beholden to the laws of undeath.

However, this stranger had been wise enough to address her as 'Doctor'. She preened inwardly at the show of respect. This was a rare surprise indeed.

"Talk quickly." The mountain of a woman barely slowed her pace for the stranger. "You have my attention for as long as you can keep up."

[pistole-prince-of-fools]

the other figure manages to keep up seemingly just floating next to the woman

Well I thought to offer my support

you see I too despise the upper class and thought helping you would be a wise decision

I have resources, networks, information, men anything you need

all in exchange for your being successful

[processwoman]

"I have no need for your assistance then. I've watched this city sprout and fester since before your grandpa was born. I know all of Gotham, above and below, and the above and below of Gotham's yester years. I know where sewers stagnate because they clotted with dead bodies decades ago and were erased from the town records. I know where maintenance tunnels were boarded off and patched over with drywall when they were deemed too dangerous for use. I don't need your networks, and I can't say that I ever find myself in need of poor souls willing to lay down their lives for a cause they don't believe in and a steady paycheck. Nothing happens in this city without me knowing about it."

Beneath her goggles, Persephone's eye flits to the overhang of a faded brick apartment building. Something flashes patina-green, and is gone the next instant.

"If you really want to help me, kid, go off and become a journalist. I don't need any more Guy Fawkes fanboys shinning around like Thompson's colt to distract me."

[pistole-prince-of-fools]

one grown ass woman

two what about resources?

surely you would want men, gadgets gizmos those sort of things

money?

world runs on money

might as well make sure it’s running efficiently

when oil pools in one part of the machine you gotta replace it after all~

[processwoman]

"If I need those, I will make them. I am well aware that this forsaken city runs on money, but I can assure you that my machinations do not... And don't you go getting the chutzpah to talk to me about machines."

A fortunately placed cinder block (or unfortunately placed, in case of the cinder block) is pulverized with a heavy stomp that makes a sound like a hydraulic press.

"When a part must be replaced, I will procure the materials and make and install the replacement with my own hands. I will do this as many times as I need. I don't need your baby hands all over my work."

[pistole-prince-of-fools]

….

……..

khehehehe

I can assure you I have quite

She opens her cloak revealing she’s been riding on some odd looking floating bricks holograms….

The toys

now please do not condescend me

I may be younger than you but I can assure you I am not a fucking child without experience of the world

[processwoman]

The good doctor is not amused by the floating bricks. She reaches up for the metal half mask on her face. Leaning in close, she pulls it down just enough to reveal the machinery that replaces her jaws and screeches.

Ś̸̺̱͖̜̫͉͓̂͛̒́̑̋͐̑̂͠C̵̢̧̜̥͕̰̪̣̯̹̠̫̙̯̬͓͈̻͕̠͍̗͕͕̈́͐͒̂̀̍͑̀́̿̇̏́̐͋́͒̔͛̀̿̂̀̈́̆̊̀̃̎̍͘͘̚͜͝͝͝ͅͅȒ̴̡̡̨̨̛̛̛̟̞̪̟̳̦̤̟̫̥̫̻̻̝̭̹̈́̌̀́̌̓̿̓̈̀̋͊͒̑̿͒͋̅͒̀̐̈́͒͆̅͋͊͗̾͘̕͝͝͝͝ͅA̵̡͎̖̭̹̬͉͙̱̹̙̥̩̟̠̐̓͆̈́̂͋̇̉́̄̾̓̾̀̂̅̿̋̅̓̀͊̆͗̓̒̓̎͆̃̊͂̒́͛̚̚̚̕͝͝͠͝ͅM̸̨̢̼̟͕̗̙͎̩͖̻͙̩̳̪͖̟̯͈̦̹̐̑̇̍͑̀̿̓̎̄̆̑͜͠ͅͅ

[pistole-prince-of-fools]

…

alright you have bad breath and a cyborg jaw what else is new the sky is green now?

Honestly how are you supposed to get anything meaningful done if you accept the help of none?

support is the greatest strength of all

turning away everyone will leave you alone and weak

seen it happen so many times

then again you’re already dead so what’s being more dead?

Do try not to get cemented in the harbor

[processwoman]

Oy vey. The girl is a meshugener. Why is it that reckless children and young adults seem to flock to her? She is not anyone's mother. Every nice bone that she had in her body became brittle or stiff from heavy metal and chemical exposure. She was not 'groovy' or whatever the kids were saying these days. She is not pretty, or charismatic. Was it the horrific workplace 'accidents' and career sabotage? Were young people into gore and violent behavior nowadays? 'Edgy', or whatever it was that Annie had called her that one time?

They need to stop before they get hurt. She is no longer a safe person to be around.

She clicks her mask back into place. "If you want to help me so badly, get me permission to enter Wayne Enterprise." A century and a half, and she still has never been summoned into their factories.

[pistole-prince-of-fools]

oh well if I have a thing for you!

you see I recently came into quite the blackmail

an entire view of Wayne Manor and

evidence of him being batman or at least one of if not batman's BIGGEST benefactor

a good friend of mine scoped the thing out

I just wanted to steal billionaires money and give to the me poor but that little rat bastard was hiding so much more

I can give you all that precious precious info

[processwoman]

"That means nothing to me if I cannot enter. Unless the lamentations are sung, I'm not able to take one step into any of their buildings."

[pistole-prince-of-fools]

hmm?

what does that mean?

if you need I could likely find a way to get you in

[processwoman]

Persephone stops. The air is filled with a deep, haunting melody that causes the world to slow to a crawl.

"A process man am I and I’m telling you no lie,

I work and breath among the fumes that trail across the sky;

There’s thunder all around me and a poison in the air,

There’s a lousy smell that smacks o’ hell and dust all in my hair..."

It's not that the undead ghoul is a good singer or anything. Her voice is quite mundane, if not deeper than the average woman's. But there's a dark and mournful magic to the words.

"Get inside their facilities and sing that song. I will handle the rest."

[pistole-prince-of-fools]

alrighty then Dr Persephone

would you prefer if I called you Dread Persephone?

it was an epithet of old for her

[processwoman]

"Call me what you will. I don't care for it."

[processwoman]

Hello doctor

an odd figure in a masquerade outfit and a horned bird mask approaches boots clicking against the ground as they do so

I think I have something that may interest you

(@pistole-prince-of-fools)

The Process Man had no time for nonsense right now. There was an example to be made of several board members of Ace Chemicals earlier that night, and now she had only ten minutes to make it back to one of her haunts before the rain started back up. Rain in this part of Gotham could hardly be called 'fresh', but running water was running water. Powerful as she was, she was still beholden to the laws of undeath.

However, this stranger had been wise enough to address her as 'Doctor'. She preened inwardly at the show of respect. This was a rare surprise indeed.

"Talk quickly." The mountain of a woman barely slowed her pace for the stranger. "You have my attention for as long as you can keep up."

[pistole-prince-of-fools]

the other figure manages to keep up seemingly just floating next to the woman

Well I thought to offer my support

you see I too despise the upper class and thought helping you would be a wise decision

I have resources, networks, information, men anything you need

all in exchange for your being successful

[processwoman]

"I have no need for your assistance then. I've watched this city sprout and fester since before your grandpa was born. I know all of Gotham, above and below, and the above and below of Gotham's yester years. I know where sewers stagnate because they clotted with dead bodies decades ago and were erased from the town records. I know where maintenance tunnels were boarded off and patched over with drywall when they were deemed too dangerous for use. I don't need your networks, and I can't say that I ever find myself in need of poor souls willing to lay down their lives for a cause they don't believe in and a steady paycheck. Nothing happens in this city without me knowing about it."

Beneath her goggles, Persephone's eye flits to the overhang of a faded brick apartment building. Something flashes patina-green, and is gone the next instant.

"If you really want to help me, kid, go off and become a journalist. I don't need any more Guy Fawkes fanboys shinning around like Thompson's colt to distract me."

[pistole-prince-of-fools]

one grown ass woman

two what about resources?

surely you would want men, gadgets gizmos those sort of things

money?

world runs on money

might as well make sure it’s running efficiently

when oil pools in one part of the machine you gotta replace it after all~

[processwoman]

"If I need those, I will make them. I am well aware that this forsaken city runs on money, but I can assure you that my machinations do not... And don't you go getting the chutzpah to talk to me about machines."

A fortunately placed cinder block (or unfortunately placed, in case of the cinder block) is pulverized with a heavy stomp that makes a sound like a hydraulic press.

"When a part must be replaced, I will procure the materials and make and install the replacement with my own hands. I will do this as many times as I need. I don't need your baby hands all over my work."

[pistole-prince-of-fools]

….

……..

khehehehe

I can assure you I have quite

She opens her cloak revealing she’s been riding on some odd looking floating bricks holograms….

The toys

now please do not condescend me

I may be younger than you but I can assure you I am not a fucking child without experience of the world

[processwoman]

The good doctor is not amused by the floating bricks. She reaches up for the metal half mask on her face. Leaning in close, she pulls it down just enough to reveal the machinery that replaces her jaws and screeches.

Ś̸̺̱͖̜̫͉͓̂͛̒́̑̋͐̑̂͠C̵̢̧̜̥͕̰̪̣̯̹̠̫̙̯̬͓͈̻͕̠͍̗͕͕̈́͐͒̂̀̍͑̀́̿̇̏́̐͋́͒̔͛̀̿̂̀̈́̆̊̀̃̎̍͘͘̚͜͝͝͝ͅͅȒ̴̡̡̨̨̛̛̛̟̞̪̟̳̦̤̟̫̥̫̻̻̝̭̹̈́̌̀́̌̓̿̓̈̀̋͊͒̑̿͒͋̅͒̀̐̈́͒͆̅͋͊͗̾͘̕͝͝͝͝ͅA̵̡͎̖̭̹̬͉͙̱̹̙̥̩̟̠̐̓͆̈́̂͋̇̉́̄̾̓̾̀̂̅̿̋̅̓̀͊̆͗̓̒̓̎͆̃̊͂̒́͛̚̚̚̕͝͝͠͝ͅM̸̨̢̼̟͕̗̙͎̩͖̻͙̩̳̪͖̟̯͈̦̹̐̑̇̍͑̀̿̓̎̄̆̑͜͠ͅͅ

[pistole-prince-of-fools]

…

alright you have bad breath and a cyborg jaw what else is new the sky is green now?

Honestly how are you supposed to get anything meaningful done if you accept the help of none?

support is the greatest strength of all

turning away everyone will leave you alone and weak

seen it happen so many times

then again you’re already dead so what’s being more dead?

Do try not to get cemented in the harbor

[processwoman]

Oy vey. The girl is a meshugener. Why is it that reckless children and young adults seem to flock to her? She is not anyone's mother. Every nice bone that she had in her body became brittle or stiff from heavy metal and chemical exposure. She was not 'groovy' or whatever the kids were saying these days. She is not pretty, or charismatic. Was it the horrific workplace 'accidents' and career sabotage? Were young people into gore and violent behavior nowadays? 'Edgy', or whatever it was that Annie had called her that one time?

They need to stop before they get hurt. She is no longer a safe person to be around.

She clicks her mask back into place. "If you want to help me so badly, get me permission to enter Wayne Enterprise." A century and a half, and she still has never been summoned into their factories.

[pistole-prince-of-fools]

oh well if I have a thing for you!

you see I recently came into quite the blackmail

an entire view of Wayne Manor and

evidence of him being batman or at least one of if not batman's BIGGEST benefactor

a good friend of mine scoped the thing out

I just wanted to steal billionaires money and give to the me poor but that little rat bastard was hiding so much more

I can give you all that precious precious info

[processwoman]

"That means nothing to me if I cannot enter. Unless the lamentations are sung, I'm not able to take one step into any of their buildings."

[pistole-prince-of-fools]

hmm?

what does that mean?

if you need I could likely find a way to get you in

[processwoman]

Persephone stops. The air is filled with a deep, haunting melody that causes the world to slow to a crawl.

"A process man am I and I’m telling you no lie,

I work and breath among the fumes that trail across the sky;

There’s thunder all around me and a poison in the air,

There’s a lousy smell that smacks o’ hell and dust all in my hair..."

It's not that the undead ghoul is a good singer or anything. Her voice is quite mundane, if not deeper than the average woman's. But there's a dark and mournful magic to the words.

"Get inside their facilities and sing that song. I will handle the rest."

[processwoman]

Hello doctor

an odd figure in a masquerade outfit and a horned bird mask approaches boots clicking against the ground as they do so

I think I have something that may interest you

(@pistole-prince-of-fools)

The Process Man had no time for nonsense right now. There was an example to be made of several board members of Ace Chemicals earlier that night, and now she had only ten minutes to make it back to one of her haunts before the rain started back up. Rain in this part of Gotham could hardly be called 'fresh', but running water was running water. Powerful as she was, she was still beholden to the laws of undeath.

However, this stranger had been wise enough to address her as 'Doctor'. She preened inwardly at the show of respect. This was a rare surprise indeed.

"Talk quickly." The mountain of a woman barely slowed her pace for the stranger. "You have my attention for as long as you can keep up."

[pistole-prince-of-fools]

the other figure manages to keep up seemingly just floating next to the woman

Well I thought to offer my support

you see I too despise the upper class and thought helping you would be a wise decision

I have resources, networks, information, men anything you need

all in exchange for your being successful

[processwoman]

"I have no need for your assistance then. I've watched this city sprout and fester since before your grandpa was born. I know all of Gotham, above and below, and the above and below of Gotham's yester years. I know where sewers stagnate because they clotted with dead bodies decades ago and were erased from the town records. I know where maintenance tunnels were boarded off and patched over with drywall when they were deemed too dangerous for use. I don't need your networks, and I can't say that I ever find myself in need of poor souls willing to lay down their lives for a cause they don't believe in and a steady paycheck. Nothing happens in this city without me knowing about it."

Beneath her goggles, Persephone's eye flits to the overhang of a faded brick apartment building. Something flashes patina-green, and is gone the next instant.

"If you really want to help me, kid, go off and become a journalist. I don't need any more Guy Fawkes fanboys shinning around like Thompson's colt to distract me."

[pistole-prince-of-fools]

one grown ass woman

two what about resources?

surely you would want men, gadgets gizmos those sort of things

money?

world runs on money

might as well make sure it’s running efficiently

when oil pools in one part of the machine you gotta replace it after all~

[processwoman]

"If I need those, I will make them. I am well aware that this forsaken city runs on money, but I can assure you that my machinations do not... And don't you go getting the chutzpah to talk to me about machines."

A fortunately placed cinder block (or unfortunately placed, in case of the cinder block) is pulverized with a heavy stomp that makes a sound like a hydraulic press.

"When a part must be replaced, I will procure the materials and make and install the replacement with my own hands. I will do this as many times as I need. I don't need your baby hands all over my work."

[pistole-prince-of-fools]

….

……..

khehehehe

I can assure you I have quite

She opens her cloak revealing she’s been riding on some odd looking floating bricks holograms….

The toys

now please do not condescend me

I may be younger than you but I can assure you I am not a fucking child without experience of the world

[processwoman]

The good doctor is not amused by the floating bricks. She reaches up for the metal half mask on her face. Leaning in close, she pulls it down just enough to reveal the machinery that replaces her jaws and screeches.

Ś̸̺̱͖̜̫͉͓̂͛̒́̑̋͐̑̂͠C̵̢̧̜̥͕̰̪̣̯̹̠̫̙̯̬͓͈̻͕̠͍̗͕͕̈́͐͒̂̀̍͑̀́̿̇̏́̐͋́͒̔͛̀̿̂̀̈́̆̊̀̃̎̍͘͘̚͜͝͝͝ͅͅȒ̴̡̡̨̨̛̛̛̟̞̪̟̳̦̤̟̫̥̫̻̻̝̭̹̈́̌̀́̌̓̿̓̈̀̋͊͒̑̿͒͋̅͒̀̐̈́͒͆̅͋͊͗̾͘̕͝͝͝͝ͅA̵̡͎̖̭̹̬͉͙̱̹̙̥̩̟̠̐̓͆̈́̂͋̇̉́̄̾̓̾̀̂̅̿̋̅̓̀͊̆͗̓̒̓̎͆̃̊͂̒́͛̚̚̚̕͝͝͠͝ͅM̸̨̢̼̟͕̗̙͎̩͖̻͙̩̳̪͖̟̯͈̦̹̐̑̇̍͑̀̿̓̎̄̆̑͜͠ͅͅ

[pistole-prince-of-fools]

…

alright you have bad breath and a cyborg jaw what else is new the sky is green now?

Honestly how are you supposed to get anything meaningful done if you accept the help of none?

support is the greatest strength of all

turning away everyone will leave you alone and weak

seen it happen so many times

then again you’re already dead so what’s being more dead?

Do try not to get cemented in the harbor

[processwoman]

Oy vey. The girl is a meshugener. Why is it that reckless children and young adults seem to flock to her? She is not anyone's mother. Every nice bone that she had in her body became brittle or stiff from heavy metal and chemical exposure. She was not 'groovy' or whatever the kids were saying these days. She is not pretty, or charismatic. Was it the horrific workplace 'accidents' and career sabotage? Were young people into gore and violent behavior nowadays? 'Edgy', or whatever it was that Annie had called her that one time?

They need to stop before they get hurt. She is no longer a safe person to be around.

She clicks her mask back into place. "If you want to help me so badly, get me permission to enter Wayne Enterprise." A century and a half, and she still has never been summoned into their factories.

[pistole-prince-of-fools]

oh well if I have a thing for you!

you see I recently came into quite the blackmail

an entire view of Wayne Manor and

evidence of him being batman or at least one of if not batman's BIGGEST benefactor

a good friend of mine scoped the thing out

I just wanted to steal billionaires money and give to the me poor but that little rat bastard was hiding so much more

I can give you all that precious precious info

[processwoman]

"That means nothing to me if I cannot enter. Unless the lamentations are sung, I'm not able to take one step into any of their buildings."

[processwoman]

Hello doctor

an odd figure in a masquerade outfit and a horned bird mask approaches boots clicking against the ground as they do so

I think I have something that may interest you

(@pistole-prince-of-fools)

The Process Man had no time for nonsense right now. There was an example to be made of several board members of Ace Chemicals earlier that night, and now she had only ten minutes to make it back to one of her haunts before the rain started back up. Rain in this part of Gotham could hardly be called 'fresh', but running water was running water. Powerful as she was, she was still beholden to the laws of undeath.

However, this stranger had been wise enough to address her as 'Doctor'. She preened inwardly at the show of respect. This was a rare surprise indeed.

"Talk quickly." The mountain of a woman barely slowed her pace for the stranger. "You have my attention for as long as you can keep up."

[pistole-prince-of-fools]

the other figure manages to keep up seemingly just floating next to the woman

Well I thought to offer my support

you see I too despise the upper class and thought helping you would be a wise decision

I have resources, networks, information, men anything you need

all in exchange for your being successful

[processwoman]

"I have no need for your assistance then. I've watched this city sprout and fester since before your grandpa was born. I know all of Gotham, above and below, and the above and below of Gotham's yester years. I know where sewers stagnate because they clotted with dead bodies decades ago and were erased from the town records. I know where maintenance tunnels were boarded off and patched over with drywall when they were deemed too dangerous for use. I don't need your networks, and I can't say that I ever find myself in need of poor souls willing to lay down their lives for a cause they don't believe in and a steady paycheck. Nothing happens in this city without me knowing about it."

Beneath her goggles, Persephone's eye flits to the overhang of a faded brick apartment building. Something flashes patina-green, and is gone the next instant.

"If you really want to help me, kid, go off and become a journalist. I don't need any more Guy Fawkes fanboys shinning around like Thompson's colt to distract me."

[pistole-prince-of-fools]

one grown ass woman

two what about resources?

surely you would want men, gadgets gizmos those sort of things

money?

world runs on money

might as well make sure it’s running efficiently

when oil pools in one part of the machine you gotta replace it after all~

[processwoman]

"If I need those, I will make them. I am well aware that this forsaken city runs on money, but I can assure you that my machinations do not... And don't you go getting the chutzpah to talk to me about machines."

A fortunately placed cinder block (or unfortunately placed, in case of the cinder block) is pulverized with a heavy stomp that makes a sound like a hydraulic press.

"When a part must be replaced, I will procure the materials and make and install the replacement with my own hands. I will do this as many times as I need. I don't need your baby hands all over my work."

[pistole-prince-of-fools]

….

……..

khehehehe

I can assure you I have quite

She opens her cloak revealing she’s been riding on some odd looking floating bricks holograms….

The toys

now please do not condescend me

I may be younger than you but I can assure you I am not a fucking child without experience of the world

[processwoman]

The good doctor is not amused by the floating bricks. She reaches up for the metal half mask on her face. Leaning in close, she pulls it down just enough to reveal the machinery that replaces her jaws and screeches.

Ś̸̺̱͖̜̫͉͓̂͛̒́̑̋͐̑̂͠C̵̢̧̜̥͕̰̪̣̯̹̠̫̙̯̬͓͈̻͕̠͍̗͕͕̈́͐͒̂̀̍͑̀́̿̇̏́̐͋́͒̔͛̀̿̂̀̈́̆̊̀̃̎̍͘͘̚͜͝͝͝ͅͅȒ̴̡̡̨̨̛̛̛̟̞̪̟̳̦̤̟̫̥̫̻̻̝̭̹̈́̌̀́̌̓̿̓̈̀̋͊͒̑̿͒͋̅͒̀̐̈́͒͆̅͋͊͗̾͘̕͝͝͝͝ͅA̵̡͎̖̭̹̬͉͙̱̹̙̥̩̟̠̐̓͆̈́̂͋̇̉́̄̾̓̾̀̂̅̿̋̅̓̀͊̆͗̓̒̓̎͆̃̊͂̒́͛̚̚̚̕͝͝͠͝ͅM̸̨̢̼̟͕̗̙͎̩͖̻͙̩̳̪͖̟̯͈̦̹̐̑̇̍͑̀̿̓̎̄̆̑͜͠ͅͅ

[pistole-prince-of-fools]

…

alright you have bad breath and a cyborg jaw what else is new the sky is green now?

Honestly how are you supposed to get anything meaningful done if you accept the help of none?

support is the greatest strength of all

turning away everyone will leave you alone and weak

seen it happen so many times

then again you’re already dead so what’s being more dead?

Do try not to get cemented in the harbor

[processwoman]

Oy vey. The girl is a meshugener. Why is it that reckless children and young adults seem to flock to her? She is not anyone's mother. Every nice bone that she had in her body became brittle or stiff from heavy metal and chemical exposure. She was not 'groovy' or whatever the kids were saying these days. She is not pretty, or charismatic. Was it the horrific workplace 'accidents' and career sabotage? Were young people into gore and violent behavior nowadays? 'Edgy', or whatever it was that Annie had called her that one time?

They need to stop before they get hurt. She is no longer a safe person to be around.

She clicks her mask back into place. "If you want to help me so badly, get me permission to enter Wayne Enterprise." A century and a half, and she still has never been summoned into their factories.

[arkhams-knighted]

so about the militia

how many men strong?

A few thousand, at most. I don't keep track of the new recruits and who's died and all that.

[processwoman]

It would be stronger if you stopped butchering your workers and their families. But then, that would require brains, wouldn't it?

[arkhams-knighted]

I do have brains. I think slaughtering as I please is rooting out the weak. The militia is stronger without broken chains.

[processwoman]

Get rid of all of your 'broken chains' without fixing or replacing them first, and you'll put more strain on the ones that remain. You'll find all of your chains broken, and no one will dare work for you. Or maybe you will find that broken chains recoil when they snap.

[arkhams-knighted]

I don't think so. Fear and intimidation is always power. I do not need to fix a broken chain, I strengthen the rest by picking it out.

[processwoman]

You don't have even the darnedest clue how engineering works, kid. What are they even teaching you in school these days? Who put you in charge, rotzlöffel?

[arkhams-knighted]

I know very well how engineering works. But I simply don't care to apply it to something as stupid as people.

[processwoman]

Stay out of my warehouses if you know what's good for you, You're not too old to be taught a lesson, and no one's ever too young to die.

[processwoman]

Hello doctor

an odd figure in a masquerade outfit and a horned bird mask approaches boots clicking against the ground as they do so

I think I have something that may interest you

(@pistole-prince-of-fools)

The Process Man had no time for nonsense right now. There was an example to be made of several board members of Ace Chemicals earlier that night, and now she had only ten minutes to make it back to one of her haunts before the rain started back up. Rain in this part of Gotham could hardly be called 'fresh', but running water was running water. Powerful as she was, she was still beholden to the laws of undeath.

However, this stranger had been wise enough to address her as 'Doctor'. She preened inwardly at the show of respect. This was a rare surprise indeed.

"Talk quickly." The mountain of a woman barely slowed her pace for the stranger. "You have my attention for as long as you can keep up."

[pistole-prince-of-fools]

the other figure manages to keep up seemingly just floating next to the woman

Well I thought to offer my support

you see I too despise the upper class and thought helping you would be a wise decision

I have resources, networks, information, men anything you need

all in exchange for your being successful

[processwoman]

"I have no need for your assistance then. I've watched this city sprout and fester since before your grandpa was born. I know all of Gotham, above and below, and the above and below of Gotham's yester years. I know where sewers stagnate because they clotted with dead bodies decades ago and were erased from the town records. I know where maintenance tunnels were boarded off and patched over with drywall when they were deemed too dangerous for use. I don't need your networks, and I can't say that I ever find myself in need of poor souls willing to lay down their lives for a cause they don't believe in and a steady paycheck. Nothing happens in this city without me knowing about it."

Beneath her goggles, Persephone's eye flits to the overhang of a faded brick apartment building. Something flashes patina-green, and is gone the next instant.

"If you really want to help me, kid, go off and become a journalist. I don't need any more Guy Fawkes fanboys shinning around like Thompson's colt to distract me."

[pistole-prince-of-fools]

one grown ass woman

two what about resources?

surely you would want men, gadgets gizmos those sort of things

money?

world runs on money

might as well make sure it’s running efficiently

when oil pools in one part of the machine you gotta replace it after all~

[processwoman]

"If I need those, I will make them. I am well aware that this forsaken city runs on money, but I can assure you that my machinations do not... And don't you go getting the chutzpah to talk to me about machines."

A fortunately placed cinder block (or unfortunately placed, in case of the cinder block) is pulverized with a heavy stomp that makes a sound like a hydraulic press.

"When a part must be replaced, I will procure the materials and make and install the replacement with my own hands. I will do this as many times as I need. I don't need your baby hands all over my work."

[pistole-prince-of-fools]

….

……..

khehehehe

I can assure you I have quite

She opens her cloak revealing she’s been riding on some odd looking floating bricks holograms….

The toys

now please do not condescend me

I may be younger than you but I can assure you I am not a fucking child without experience of the world

[processwoman]

The good doctor is not amused by the floating bricks. She reaches up for the metal half mask on her face. Leaning in close, she pulls it down just enough to reveal the machinery that replaces her jaws and screeches.

Ś̸̺̱͖̜̫͉͓̂͛̒́̑̋͐̑̂͠C̵̢̧̜̥͕̰̪̣̯̹̠̫̙̯̬͓͈̻͕̠͍̗͕͕̈́͐͒̂̀̍͑̀́̿̇̏́̐͋́͒̔͛̀̿̂̀̈́̆̊̀̃̎̍͘͘̚͜͝͝͝ͅͅȒ̴̡̡̨̨̛̛̛̟̞̪̟̳̦̤̟̫̥̫̻̻̝̭̹̈́̌̀́̌̓̿̓̈̀̋͊͒̑̿͒͋̅͒̀̐̈́͒͆̅͋͊͗̾͘̕͝͝͝͝ͅA̵̡͎̖̭̹̬͉͙̱̹̙̥̩̟̠̐̓͆̈́̂͋̇̉́̄̾̓̾̀̂̅̿̋̅̓̀͊̆͗̓̒̓̎͆̃̊͂̒́͛̚̚̚̕͝͝͠͝ͅM̸̨̢̼̟͕̗̙͎̩͖̻͙̩̳̪͖̟̯͈̦̹̐̑̇̍͑̀̿̓̎̄̆̑͜͠ͅͅ

[processwoman]

Hello doctor

an odd figure in a masquerade outfit and a horned bird mask approaches boots clicking against the ground as they do so

I think I have something that may interest you

(@pistole-prince-of-fools)

The Process Man had no time for nonsense right now. There was an example to be made of several board members of Ace Chemicals earlier that night, and now she had only ten minutes to make it back to one of her haunts before the rain started back up. Rain in this part of Gotham could hardly be called 'fresh', but running water was running water. Powerful as she was, she was still beholden to the laws of undeath.

However, this stranger had been wise enough to address her as 'Doctor'. She preened inwardly at the show of respect. This was a rare surprise indeed.

"Talk quickly." The mountain of a woman barely slowed her pace for the stranger. "You have my attention for as long as you can keep up."

[pistole-prince-of-fools]

the other figure manages to keep up seemingly just floating next to the woman

Well I thought to offer my support

you see I too despise the upper class and thought helping you would be a wise decision

I have resources, networks, information, men anything you need

all in exchange for your being successful

[processwoman]

"I have no need for your assistance then. I've watched this city sprout and fester since before your grandpa was born. I know all of Gotham, above and below, and the above and below of Gotham's yester years. I know where sewers stagnate because they clotted with dead bodies decades ago and were erased from the town records. I know where maintenance tunnels were boarded off and patched over with drywall when they were deemed too dangerous for use. I don't need your networks, and I can't say that I ever find myself in need of poor souls willing to lay down their lives for a cause they don't believe in and a steady paycheck. Nothing happens in this city without me knowing about it."

Beneath her goggles, Persephone's eye flits to the overhang of a faded brick apartment building. Something flashes patina-green, and is gone the next instant.

"If you really want to help me, kid, go off and become a journalist. I don't need any more Guy Fawkes fanboys shinning around like Thompson's colt to distract me."

[pistole-prince-of-fools]

one grown ass woman

two what about resources?

surely you would want men, gadgets gizmos those sort of things

money?

world runs on money

might as well make sure it’s running efficiently

when oil pools in one part of the machine you gotta replace it after all~

[processwoman]

"If I need those, I will make them. I am well aware that this forsaken city runs on money, but I can assure you that my machinations do not... And don't you go getting the chutzpah to talk to me about machines."

A fortunately placed cinder block (or unfortunately placed, in case of the cinder block) is pulverized with a heavy stomp that makes a sound like a hydraulic press.

"When a part must be replaced, I will procure the materials and make and install the replacement with my own hands. I will do this as many times as I need. I don't need your baby hands all over my work."

[processwoman]

Hello doctor

an odd figure in a masquerade outfit and a horned bird mask approaches boots clicking against the ground as they do so

I think I have something that may interest you

(@pistole-prince-of-fools)

The Process Man had no time for nonsense right now. There was an example to be made of several board members of Ace Chemicals earlier that night, and now she had only ten minutes to make it back to one of her haunts before the rain started back up. Rain in this part of Gotham could hardly be called 'fresh', but running water was running water. Powerful as she was, she was still beholden to the laws of undeath.

However, this stranger had been wise enough to address her as 'Doctor'. She preened inwardly at the show of respect. This was a rare surprise indeed.

"Talk quickly." The mountain of a woman barely slowed her pace for the stranger. "You have my attention for as long as you can keep up."

[pistole-prince-of-fools]

the other figure manages to keep up seemingly just floating next to the woman

Well I thought to offer my support

you see I too despise the upper class and thought helping you would be a wise decision

I have resources, networks, information, men anything you need

all in exchange for your being successful

[processwoman]

"I have no need for your assistance then. I've watched this city sprout and fester since before your grandpa was born. I know all of Gotham, above and below, and the above and below of Gotham's yester years. I know where sewers stagnate because they clotted with dead bodies decades ago and were erased from the town records. I know where maintenance tunnels were boarded off and patched over with drywall when they were deemed too dangerous for use. I don't need your networks, and I can't say that I ever find myself in need of poor souls willing to lay down their lives for a cause they don't believe in and a steady paycheck. Nothing happens in this city without me knowing about it."

Beneath her goggles, Persephone's eye flits to the overhang of a faded brick apartment building. Something flashes patina-green, and is gone the next instant.

"If you really want to help me, kid, go off and become a journalist. I don't need any more Guy Fawkes fanboys shinning around like Thompson's colt to distract me."

[arkhams-knighted]

so about the militia

how many men strong?

A few thousand, at most. I don't keep track of the new recruits and who's died and all that.

[processwoman]

It would be stronger if you stopped butchering your workers and their families. But then, that would require brains, wouldn't it?

[arkhams-knighted]

I do have brains. I think slaughtering as I please is rooting out the weak. The militia is stronger without broken chains.

[processwoman]

Get rid of all of your 'broken chains' without fixing or replacing them first, and you'll put more strain on the ones that remain. You'll find all of your chains broken, and no one will dare work for you. Or maybe you will find that broken chains recoil when they snap.

[arkhams-knighted]

I don't think so. Fear and intimidation is always power. I do not need to fix a broken chain, I strengthen the rest by picking it out.

[processwoman]

You don't have even the darnedest clue how engineering works, kid. What are they even teaching you in school these days? Who put you in charge, rotzlöffel?

[processwoman]

Hello doctor

an odd figure in a masquerade outfit and a horned bird mask approaches boots clicking against the ground as they do so

I think I have something that may interest you

(@pistole-prince-of-fools)

The Process Man had no time for nonsense right now. There was an example to be made of several board members of Ace Chemicals earlier that night, and now she had only ten minutes to make it back to one of her haunts before the rain started back up. Rain in this part of Gotham could hardly be called 'fresh', but running water was running water. Powerful as she was, she was still beholden to the laws of undeath.

However, this stranger had been wise enough to address her as 'Doctor'. She preened inwardly at the show of respect. This was a rare surprise indeed.

"Talk quickly." The mountain of a woman barely slowed her pace for the stranger. "You have my attention for as long as you can keep up."

[arkhams-knighted]

so about the militia

how many men strong?

A few thousand, at most. I don't keep track of the new recruits and who's died and all that.

[processwoman]

It would be stronger if you stopped butchering your workers and their families. But then, that would require brains, wouldn't it?

[arkhams-knighted]

I do have brains. I think slaughtering as I please is rooting out the weak. The militia is stronger without broken chains.

[processwoman]

Get rid of all of your 'broken chains' without fixing or replacing them first, and you'll put more strain on the ones that remain. You'll find all of your chains broken, and no one will dare work for you. Or maybe you will find that broken chains recoil when they snap.