Jonathan Crane (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
restingstitchface) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenacelogs2015-08-03 01:56 pm
restingstitchface) wrote in maskormenacelogs2015-08-03 01:56 pm
Entry tags:
I have a feeling someone's looking
WHO: Scarecrow and Harley Quinn.
WHERE: De Chima.
WHEN: Wednesday 5th August, 10:25pm.
WHAT: Rogue business.
WARNINGS: Crane. Violence. Fire and murder. Harley, no.
[Crane wanted to test his new strain of toxin. It had taken some months, ever since his arrival, to collect enough information to reach today's study - and a contract with the Devil to collect required resources, financial and material. He scratched under his neck, slipping a finger under the burlap flesh, curious enough to wonder about the look on his Granny's face about that hellish deal, as he skulked closer to the subject's downstairs window. He had a particularly intense need to satisfy his curiosity this evening.
The second man he'd chosen from Harleen's list was a firefighter. One of those cadres who claimed to make humanity safe by defending them against a bright, hot energy that humans had once feared instinctively. But they now believed they held it in their power. That there was nothing to be frightened of anymore. It was ignorant. It was offensive. He would help them see that fire was always something to be fearful of. He would burn it into their eyes.
Now. It was often the course that when he led his subjects deeper into his web, he occasionally required the use of force. Restraints. He had a straitjacket in his bag, along with a gas regulator and other devices used in his work. Of course, there was also his new pyrophobic strain in a canister. Regardless, he wasn't going to waste his efforts on physical labour. That was why he had dragged somebody else along.]
Tell me, Miss Quinn. When is a firefighter frightened by flame?
WHERE: De Chima.
WHEN: Wednesday 5th August, 10:25pm.
WHAT: Rogue business.
WARNINGS: Crane. Violence. Fire and murder. Harley, no.
[Crane wanted to test his new strain of toxin. It had taken some months, ever since his arrival, to collect enough information to reach today's study - and a contract with the Devil to collect required resources, financial and material. He scratched under his neck, slipping a finger under the burlap flesh, curious enough to wonder about the look on his Granny's face about that hellish deal, as he skulked closer to the subject's downstairs window. He had a particularly intense need to satisfy his curiosity this evening.
The second man he'd chosen from Harleen's list was a firefighter. One of those cadres who claimed to make humanity safe by defending them against a bright, hot energy that humans had once feared instinctively. But they now believed they held it in their power. That there was nothing to be frightened of anymore. It was ignorant. It was offensive. He would help them see that fire was always something to be fearful of. He would burn it into their eyes.
Now. It was often the course that when he led his subjects deeper into his web, he occasionally required the use of force. Restraints. He had a straitjacket in his bag, along with a gas regulator and other devices used in his work. Of course, there was also his new pyrophobic strain in a canister. Regardless, he wasn't going to waste his efforts on physical labour. That was why he had dragged somebody else along.]
Tell me, Miss Quinn. When is a firefighter frightened by flame?