Ikky (Codot!Jonathan Crane)
Ok, so I used to religiously follow @theriddlerspeaks , and then life happened for a while. Now that I’m back into Batman, I found out they have a whole universe thing happening at @waiting4codot , and good lord poor Jon :’ ( So, enjoy this depressing stuff!
Ikky…oh my sweet baby Ikky…
A glass bottle shattered against a weathered wall, peeling paint sticking to several shards as they tumbled to the floor. For a time, the room was silent, save for the creaks of a home that was in desperate need of repair. Then, it began, starting off so soft you would need to be right next to a ratty recliner in the corner. Sobbing.
Jonathan Crane was crying.
If a Gothamite were around to see the pitiful sight, they would probably be brought to tears. The Master of Fear, responsible for countless acts of terror, was weeping like a child that had been roughed up in an alleyway. A scraggly beard was just visible behind long, pale hands, liquid dripping down the hairs and down onto bloodstained clothes. As time passed the cries became louder, the agony trapped within the usually stoic man now laid bare for all to see. Ichabod had been his...everything, and now she was gone. The blood, and the feathers, those lifeless eyes haunted his every waking hour.
”LeT mE oUt child. I cAn fiX yOU.” The sobs grew quiet rather abruptly, the clink of glass hitting glass the only sound for a few seconds. Scarecrow was forced away at the first taste of whiskey, the burning in his throat almost welcomed. He couldn’t remember before he came to in his old home, his confusion but a fleeting moment before he began to drink. Those poor liquor store workers hadn’t even tried to stop the gaunt man from emptying their store and taking off in a battered truck. By the time he reached the bottom of the bottle, Jonathan had stopped crying. He honestly couldn’t remember why he had been, but another bottle would easily make the question go away. Another bottle joined the one thrown previous hours ago, muffling the sound of an approaching car. Not that Jonathan could have heard, the drunk man starting to sing to himself to fill the void.