Gammadion (part 3)
Mr Zoat
Dedicated ragequitter
- Joined
- Dec 1, 2016
- Messages
- 16,657
- Likes received
- 862,641
6th March
10:01 GMT -5
Dr Jonathan Crane regards me suspiciously from his side of the partition. His eyes have dark rings and he hasn't shaved recently, razors being something of a risk here. In accordance with Arkham Asylum rules he's in a strait jacket which is attached to his chair by thick straps and padlocks. The problem with Dr Crane is that while he's generally fairly well behaved, he can go into murderous rages with no apparent provocation. That's a fairly recent development: the first time he was arrested they actually sent him to Blackgate instead of here. Then… The other symptoms of prolonged psychoactive drug exposure started appearing.
One of those appears to be insomnia. His eyes are red-veined, and while he's trying to stay focused on me his eyes are wandering and he's blinking as if he's struggling to keep them open.
"Good morning, Doctor Crane."
"If you say so."
I risk a smile.
"I'm glad that you're not demanding that I refer to you as-."
"I'm insane, not crazy. I still remember what my name is. And I'm not.. Scarecrow when I'm like this. Scarecrow is…" He tries to move his arms, a slight jangling of the metal clips his only reward. "Terrifying. I'm not."
"And how are you doing?"
"The universe has no color or meaning. Food is bland, days blur together… I hadn't realised that the drugs would affect my sense of time like this."
"That could just be the repetition."
He nods.
"I'll have to test it, once I'm free."
I take a look at his spiritual networks.. and… Yikes. He's done a number on himself. The lines of emotional connections go places and those places are just… Dull. I can see their content… Crows, a decayed farm, a chapel… But there's no emotional resonance.
The Scarecrow can't feel fear.
"Doctor, I was wondering if you'd be prepared to help me with an experiment."
"What sort of experiment?"
"You need fear to function. But your exposure-."
"Everyone needs fear to function! It's the most primal motivating force, the impetus which keeps us…" He sags slightly, pulling himself in. "Keeps.. us…"
"Your exposure to your own gas means that you don't feel it any longer. Not unless you're exposed again."
"No. No. I still-. Batman. Something about the bat-imagery… That.. makes me feel fear without it."
"But being without that… It's horrible, isn't it?" He doesn't respond, settling for watching me intently. "What would you say if I said I could make you feel fear again?"
"You'll have to do more than lock me in a box for a few hours like you did Penguin."
"No, Doctor Crane. Magic."
"Not something I ever studied. Though I suppose an impulse that potent must have some sort of arcane significance."
"Just so. I don't know if you're a religious man-"
"No."
"-but I'm a Hellenist. And one of the supernatural entities I've encountered as a result is Melinoë. She's-."
"The nymph of nightmare and madness, of course I know who Melinoë is." He lets out a scoffing exhalation. "Are you saying that you can arrange divine intervention?"
"Yes." I take the product of our work out of subspace. It's actually nothing like as good as the regular version will be, but… They don't like prisoners having access to metal plates or wire. "This will allow her access to your psyche. Your brain-."
"Doesn't activate in response to normal fear-causing stimuli, but that's a matter of neurochemistry. You're saying that magic bypasses that?"
"That, and I'm sure that a man like yourself can appreciate a little subtlety. It's not all about brute-force reliving of childhood traumas."
He looks at the small leather patch floating before him. He might know that magic is real on an intellectual level, but he hasn't had any direct exposure to it himself. Hm, as far as he knows; who knows what Dr Gotham's coterie got up to. But until he actually tries it he won't know, and his pride in his craft might prevent him from accepting it.
"Why are you offering this to me?"
"Melinoë is a friend of mine. But I can't appreciate her work in the way that you can. And I suppose I would like you to have an outlet for your abilities that is a bit less destructive."
"And that's it; you don't want anything?"
"While your skill at neurochemistry is considerable, I don't really think I have much use for it in my work. I don't think that you know anything about the Gotham underworld that I or my allies need to know. All your victims are either treated or dead." I shrug. "You don't have anything I want."
Though there is a chance that this will make him sane enough that they can finally execute him for all of those murders he committed, including those of his college mentor, great grandmother, grandmother and father.
"You don't have to agree to use this, but I think that you'll like it."
"Have you used it?"
"No. That's not really my thing."
"Oh. And that interests me." He becomes noticeably more focused, watching my face carefully. "You don't think you could learn anything from studying your fears?"
"I used to fear heights, then I learned to fly. I used to fear death, then I wandered through my afterlife." I shrug. "Doctor Crane, do you want this or not?"
"Yes. Yes, I believe that I do. Even if it doesn't do what you claim it will, I'm sure that it will do something."
There's a clank behind him as the door opens and an orderly comes in with a tray. On the tray is another example of the dream thrower along with a pin. The orderly puts the tray down on the small table in front of Dr Crane. He looks it over.
"And what's this for?"
"I know perfectly well that you're more likely to try and use this on someone else than use it on yourself. In order to activate the artefact, it requires a small amount of your blood. That will link it to you. You will be the only one it can affect."
"I can hardly prick myself like-" He tugs on his bindings. "-this."
"Not a problem, Doctor."
I send a filament through the wall separating us and use it to grasp the pin.
"Where would you like me to take it from?"
10:01 GMT -5
Dr Jonathan Crane regards me suspiciously from his side of the partition. His eyes have dark rings and he hasn't shaved recently, razors being something of a risk here. In accordance with Arkham Asylum rules he's in a strait jacket which is attached to his chair by thick straps and padlocks. The problem with Dr Crane is that while he's generally fairly well behaved, he can go into murderous rages with no apparent provocation. That's a fairly recent development: the first time he was arrested they actually sent him to Blackgate instead of here. Then… The other symptoms of prolonged psychoactive drug exposure started appearing.
One of those appears to be insomnia. His eyes are red-veined, and while he's trying to stay focused on me his eyes are wandering and he's blinking as if he's struggling to keep them open.
"Good morning, Doctor Crane."
"If you say so."
I risk a smile.
"I'm glad that you're not demanding that I refer to you as-."
"I'm insane, not crazy. I still remember what my name is. And I'm not.. Scarecrow when I'm like this. Scarecrow is…" He tries to move his arms, a slight jangling of the metal clips his only reward. "Terrifying. I'm not."
"And how are you doing?"
"The universe has no color or meaning. Food is bland, days blur together… I hadn't realised that the drugs would affect my sense of time like this."
"That could just be the repetition."
He nods.
"I'll have to test it, once I'm free."
I take a look at his spiritual networks.. and… Yikes. He's done a number on himself. The lines of emotional connections go places and those places are just… Dull. I can see their content… Crows, a decayed farm, a chapel… But there's no emotional resonance.
The Scarecrow can't feel fear.
"Doctor, I was wondering if you'd be prepared to help me with an experiment."
"What sort of experiment?"
"You need fear to function. But your exposure-."
"Everyone needs fear to function! It's the most primal motivating force, the impetus which keeps us…" He sags slightly, pulling himself in. "Keeps.. us…"
"Your exposure to your own gas means that you don't feel it any longer. Not unless you're exposed again."
"No. No. I still-. Batman. Something about the bat-imagery… That.. makes me feel fear without it."
"But being without that… It's horrible, isn't it?" He doesn't respond, settling for watching me intently. "What would you say if I said I could make you feel fear again?"
"You'll have to do more than lock me in a box for a few hours like you did Penguin."
"No, Doctor Crane. Magic."
"Not something I ever studied. Though I suppose an impulse that potent must have some sort of arcane significance."
"Just so. I don't know if you're a religious man-"
"No."
"-but I'm a Hellenist. And one of the supernatural entities I've encountered as a result is Melinoë. She's-."
"The nymph of nightmare and madness, of course I know who Melinoë is." He lets out a scoffing exhalation. "Are you saying that you can arrange divine intervention?"
"Yes." I take the product of our work out of subspace. It's actually nothing like as good as the regular version will be, but… They don't like prisoners having access to metal plates or wire. "This will allow her access to your psyche. Your brain-."
"Doesn't activate in response to normal fear-causing stimuli, but that's a matter of neurochemistry. You're saying that magic bypasses that?"
"That, and I'm sure that a man like yourself can appreciate a little subtlety. It's not all about brute-force reliving of childhood traumas."
He looks at the small leather patch floating before him. He might know that magic is real on an intellectual level, but he hasn't had any direct exposure to it himself. Hm, as far as he knows; who knows what Dr Gotham's coterie got up to. But until he actually tries it he won't know, and his pride in his craft might prevent him from accepting it.
"Why are you offering this to me?"
"Melinoë is a friend of mine. But I can't appreciate her work in the way that you can. And I suppose I would like you to have an outlet for your abilities that is a bit less destructive."
"And that's it; you don't want anything?"
"While your skill at neurochemistry is considerable, I don't really think I have much use for it in my work. I don't think that you know anything about the Gotham underworld that I or my allies need to know. All your victims are either treated or dead." I shrug. "You don't have anything I want."
Though there is a chance that this will make him sane enough that they can finally execute him for all of those murders he committed, including those of his college mentor, great grandmother, grandmother and father.
"You don't have to agree to use this, but I think that you'll like it."
"Have you used it?"
"No. That's not really my thing."
"Oh. And that interests me." He becomes noticeably more focused, watching my face carefully. "You don't think you could learn anything from studying your fears?"
"I used to fear heights, then I learned to fly. I used to fear death, then I wandered through my afterlife." I shrug. "Doctor Crane, do you want this or not?"
"Yes. Yes, I believe that I do. Even if it doesn't do what you claim it will, I'm sure that it will do something."
There's a clank behind him as the door opens and an orderly comes in with a tray. On the tray is another example of the dream thrower along with a pin. The orderly puts the tray down on the small table in front of Dr Crane. He looks it over.
"And what's this for?"
"I know perfectly well that you're more likely to try and use this on someone else than use it on yourself. In order to activate the artefact, it requires a small amount of your blood. That will link it to you. You will be the only one it can affect."
"I can hardly prick myself like-" He tugs on his bindings. "-this."
"Not a problem, Doctor."
I send a filament through the wall separating us and use it to grasp the pin.
"Where would you like me to take it from?"
Last edited: