Damp air brushed the back of his neck, and his shoulders shifted as if that could force the fabric of his sweater higher. Tsking sharply, he shrugged again irritably. If Ichy didn't get the window closed he'd have to do it himself, before realizing what the open skylight meant.
"You finally come 'round to the idea of sharin' how that ring of yours works, Sin?' An appropriate name honestly, lips twitching briefly. "Think we could have a bit of fun the two of us, if only you weren't so damned stingy.'
Wrath coloured, pride coded, Jonathan's eyes flicked up to the bit of reflective glass he placed there for that very reason. A lack of fear did not mean a lack of self preservation. The alien always looked so well put together, sleek as the feline he could act like. Finicky, stand offish, holier than thou...
"There's leftovers in the fridge, Ms. Santos made too much for Harvey and his boys.' Pretty sure that was a lie. "It's spicy, don't know if you're equipped to handle it with that clever tongue of yours. The forked nature might expose a different set of buds.'
@summerxmelodies sent a raven:
❛ how long have i been asleep? ❜ (beloved Scarecrow <3)
"N͎o͎t͎ ͎l͎o͎n͎g͎ ͎e͎n͎o͎u͎g͎h͎.'
It wished that her sleep had been permanent, jaw shifting as teeth ground together. He'd thought she was dead, leaving the door opened a crack, just enough space for it to grip and force the door open in the back of his mind to get out. Grief, always useful, a tool keen edged and helpful. Quickly taken advantage of only to suffer a swell of disappointment when the meddlesome girl pulled through after all.
What did it take to rid them of this distraction? Fingers reached out to rest against the pulse that was unfortunately beating rather healthily. It could stop that, slowly encircling her neck though it didn't begin to squeeze. Too quickly and Jon would rouse himself, reassert himself, and it would be shoved to the back of his mind to sulk and grind its teeth impotently. What was the point of keeping her around? Physical pleasures were understandable, Jon required that enrichment on occasion, but that could be charmed with a bit of drawl and hint of teeth.
And still its fingers didn't tighten, simply held, body leaning closer into view as thumb pressed against jaw to turn her head. If it was love, that was simply an intoxicating cocktail of electrical surges and chemicals, they could find a way to reproduce it easily if they put their mind to the task. It didn't like sharing Jon, this canker of malice and violence formed by years of abuse. And yet here she was.
Jonathan paused in the door to the office he'd been assigned, finger hooked in the handle of his mug mottling briefly seeing the familiar form near his desk. It would not be the first time Mr. Robertson had decided that he needed checking in on, tossing the files in hand onto desk as he lifted the mug to take a drank.
The very picture of unbothered, and to be honest there was no evidence that he'd done anything wrong. Was there a connection between him and the homeless community that had suddenly rioted and destroyed much of the center they'd been residing in? Yes, but not one that could be traced, he'd been sure of that. He could still see the way the toxin had sparkled in the air as he'd sprayed it letting the central air carry it though the room like dandelion fluff.
Though there'd been nothing gentle about the way the men and women had reacted in an attempt to escape the nightmares tormenting them.
"You look good, Robert! Finally gettin' some shut eye like I told you?' Falling into his chair, lips curled in a an smile. "Can't say the same for myself, think I might have overdone my own case load. I do hope this ain't goin' to be you askin' to take on a new client I am well and truly booked.'
Tipping the flask first over his own cup and then hers, Jonathan tucked it away into the inner pocket of his coat before reaching for the honey. A bit of toxin to start the morning, better than whiskey, or any hair of the dog he'd ever tried.
"There a reason this couldn't wait?'
The espresso machine hissed, lips twitching with amusement as the wand for the steamed milk screeched. Almost like being back in Arkham, dumping three heaping spoonful of sugar into his cup, hole covered by his thumb as he swirled his drink. Not that he didn't miss her, there were days he actually wished they were back home and everything was quiet again.
Shifting his bag with the side of his foot, he lifted a heel and pressed down on the corner, crushing the container. No one else would hear the chemicals missing, not with the chatter and machinery. But in about three minutes and seventeen seconds even people a block away would hear the screaming.
@summerxmelodies asked: “I’m done jumping through your hoops.” (Jon for whichever version of Mel vibes the most with this hehe)
‘You used to say that in therapy.’
She seemed ticked, that was fair, that little trap he and Edward had worked on was meant to discombobulate via frustration. Maybe a bit too well, head canting to the side as he continued to step back. And then a bit more as he did a quick reread of her body language, lanky limbs creating distance though his eyes remained locked on hers after a few quick flicks.
‘Now to be fair, darlin’… Most of those hoops were the Riddler’s work, I just added a bit of… atmosphere.’
Toxin, low level, enough to make the skin crawl and the nerves jangle like windchimes. A pretty moss gray green in the air, and he hadn’t been expecting it to be her. If he’d know he'd have upped the dosage. Though if she didn't back down he'd just dose her with the new strain he'd ben working on. He'd meant to test it on Solomon Grundy, but Melody would do just fine.
all y'all need to know is doctor jonathan crane md is an absolute girl dad. though to be fair he's working on things so he doesn't notice the ribbons . glitter . nail polish . make up . pony tails . bracelets . tiaras . etc until he's left the house to go to a rogue meeting and someone asks who slapped him with a my little pony magic wand.
because i've mentioned many times his eyes are brown and that he has scars . the reference sheets from are under the cut but me fkin around are on display ta da!
gonna make this quick, i say knowing damned well y'all're bout to be on a roller coaster ride with no brakes but here we go!! under a readmore cuz it got long DD;
pertaining ;; scarecrow
J.Crane was born in Gotham, a cursed city that infects its inhabitants from the moment of conception to the moment of their death. But after the death of his father he moved to Georgia with his mother to live with his maternal grandmother. Mingling eldritch energies is iffy at the best of times, but in Jon's case the small cursed seed was fed by darker and older things. as he was bullied both in school, and in home, the dark seed from Gotham, its madness and violence was fed by the eldritch dark and dark intentions Jon could not act on being too small to be able to do so.
By the time he was in high school the voice in the back of his head was its own presence, a comfort while he applied first aid after a beating in school, or the incessant pecking of crows in the small chapel behind the Keeney house. while he sat up on his bed, scrawny arms wrapped around bent lanky legs glaring in the dark of his room. it wasn't until the third time being strung up as a scarecrow by the bullies who watched crows follow him from a distance, a happenstance from the nights spent draped in chemically, and bloodied, clothes in the chapel where he was meant to pray for his sins.
it wasn't until he moved back to gotham, after state hopping for while due to questions regarding his grandmother's death, that the madness fed on eldritch dark in the appalacians blossomed. It became something more back in its proper place. more than it had been meant to be if Jon had just stayed in Gotham. but here were all those pesky questions in regards to his father's murder that his mother just had not been able to handle.
the difference between jon and scarecrow ;; physical
it's easy to hear it in the voice, though the drawl is still there, the tone is still dry, there's an echo to the voice, a harsh resonance. think of a throat raw from screaming, the flesh clawed at, because when scarecrow talks it's forcing the throat to work where as Jon does so naturally, automatically. think independence day and brent spiner? but with claws xD
it's harder to see the difference unless you know what to look for. jon's eyes are light brown (yes i know cill.ian mur.phy's aren't we do what we can) and there are flecks of yellow from the fear toxin and small itty bitty tears of extreme pupil constriction / dilation from being his father's lab rat , the intense bullying , and years in the chapel caused by terror (i am aware this is not exactly how science works but it is how comic pseudo science works so i'm right) but the yellow in his eyes glow when scarecrow is front and center.
other noticeable tells is the slight tremor to his hands, and the arc of lightening across his fingernails, the veins standing in relief on his arms and the grit of his jaw. while Jon himself cannot feel fear, when scarecrow is possessing him his body is reacting as though he feels it. his pupils are also slowly but surely dilating and will eventually be fully blown leaving only a ring of bright honey brown. it's why the mask is necessary, as well as lenses to let him be able to see close up, they're tinted to limit the amount of light allowed in. the band of colour is from the fingers clenching into claws.
the longer this goes on the more things one will notice. jon tends to pull a superman, slouching, compressing his spine, as scarecrow keeps command jon will straight, stretching, until he goes from the normal 6'1 ish to 6'5" tall. his joints creak as the muscles stay tensed, but forced to move in a back and forth between fluid motion and sharp jerks as his body protests.
the difference between jon and scarecrow ;; emotional
scarecrow is NOT jon, that is very important to note. shipping with jon is not a guarantee that scarecrow will look kindly on your muse. much like gotham, a crazy possessive city, scarecrow considers jon its own. it doesn't enjoy physical affections, it doesn't crave connection, it has all it needs in Jon. whatever partner he has is an interloper, it doesn't want them around, it doesn't like the fact that someone else can make him happy, bring him peace.
it will however take great pleasure in tormenting whoever he's with when it's allowed out. touching familiar places in a similar way jon does to cause unease because it is very much not the same, there is a suppressed violence in the way it touches someone, because it would far prefer to watch the heart race face to face than the subtle signs after a while. it wants to open the rib cage and stroke the fluctuating meat but then jon would be ... displeased. which is unfortunate.
