They're callin' again

[restingstitchface]

WHO: Crane and open.
WHERE: A jail, prison, in Maurtia Falls. Call it as you like.
WHEN: Four weeks during November.
WHAT: Crane loves having visitors. If your character wants to come and tell him he's a piece of trash through plexiglass, let's do that. A disappointment? It's all good. Should they want to seek his advice for some nefarious scheme, let's do that too. But don't clue in the guards.
WARNINGS: Crane is here, saying Crane things. So, though he's powerless, visitors are likely to see this develop into an impromptu session. Visitors will find their powers are nullified.


I | CARL | 11/2


[It had been so easy to find his test subjects. So, so easy - and none of them had realized it!

His lips smirk slightly and he gently folds his hands in his lap. It's easy to pick out the weak-minded from the figurative haystack of the network. Open the doors of their imagination and leave slivers of fear inside. Make their minds twist in horror. Not a single one could exist in silence. It would be terrifying and cruel. He would force them all to see how empty and meaningless their lives were, and then drive them all towards him for answers. To hope their fears would cease when they see he is nothing but a man.

But he's more than Jonathan Crane. Plans come alive in his mind;

In here, they believe him powerless. They couldn't be more wrong. His eyes dart around; right, left, up and down. These walls cannot hold him. He wields the considerable power of his mind and his insight. All he is doing is collecting his thoughts and biding his time. His eyes are half-closed in thought as he says nothing about his latest visitor for a good while. To have this freedom - to not care about the consequences - is so liberating that he doesn't feel like speaking at first. But eventually he has to.]

Good afternoon, Carl. Today I thought we could discuss something you like to talk about. [A pause] I know; why don't you share your thoughts about your relationship with your adoptive father? I would be highly interested in hearing your thoughts.


II | HARLEY | 11/3


[Crane sits alone in the box-sized interview room. It has been four weeks since his imprisonment. Twenty-eight days since he's felt the natural wind. Nearly two months since his - Dr. Crane's - interment. No, nine, he reminds himself. Time flows here. Nine months; the process of birth. He had been alone in Arkham with his thoughts; held in isolation and separated from other patients. He had said no words and rebuilt himself. Integrated his own desires and needs, rather than keep them at arm's length or behind a mask. He had let the shadow - all his fear - take him over. He had suddenly found his own field of view narrowly limited - but at the same time it had given him a new perspective.

The harsh flourescence of the overhead light strip casts Crane in shadow - giving his pale skin a pallor. He tilts his head and carefully eyes his visitor. The ice-blue eyes he stares with aren't the eyes of Dr. Crane any longer. Scarecrow or Crane. One or the other... or both?]

There's no need to be so quiet. This isn't home, after all.


III | OPEN - WILDCARD | 11/2-30


[Feel free to write your own starters!

Crane's a dick. If he can deny your character a visit because it'll press them under his thumb, he will. Feel free to assume this has happened for your tags. He'll agree to a session if they're persistent. If your character wants to yell at him for this, pester his inbox. If your character prefers a video call over a face-to-face encounter, especially if they're a minor, log it here as a video conference.]

Comments

[restingstitchface]

[Crane says nothing at first.

It's not hard to find a person if they lack a name. He had been approached by Ra's al Ghul, after all. He had kept his silence and hidden his research, but the man had known. He half-closes his eyes in contemplation.]

Well, a man is more than a series of letters arranged into a pattern. He is a collection of traits and preferences. If they are a natural liar, then you can catch them by illogical inconsistency. Sometimes people who lie believe detail makes their story believable, when it can actually indicate a well-crafted tale.

Furthermore, this is the digital age. You seem well-versed in the modern world. If a person leaves no physical trail, it's incredibly unlikely they haven't left a digital one. It's easy enough to follow this trail back to the person you're looking for.

[A pause.]

Now, I'll assume that because you're speaking to me, this person doesn't move in acceptable circles. If you can gain special clearance into the government here, you can track them by their files. Otherwise, if you are certain they are a liar, make a deal with the Prince of Lies. Contrary to popular belief, the Devil does not need to lie. He sees little use for it.

[Use the deity of lying itself to find a liar. Flawless plan? Maybe. Or maybe he just wants to see what will happen.]

[followorders]

[There's silence as he listens. He doesn't move, doesn't interrupt. Simply lets him finish speaking. He's used to liars. He's watched Felix maneuver people for years weaving enough details into his words to gain his targets trust. In the end, they all grew fond of his fairy tales and willingly gave him the keys to their destruction.

Locus knew how to catch a liar, but he needed their words and not some summed up version of an encounter that his partner didn't want to discuss. He's tried tracking their digital footprint, yet each clue leads to a dead end. From what he can gather, his target uses the communication system of the imports sparsely, and conducts his business in person leaving him with only crumbs to find on the network.

That's the reason he's here, why he came back each time he was turned away. He knows the Doctor might string together words that might--His mind locks onto those last words.]

Who's that?

[A Prince of Lies? It sounded like a myth.]

Where can I find them?

[restingstitchface]

Finding Lucifer isn't difficult, I assure you.

[There's sharp, wicked delight behind Crane's eyes.

For his boon, Lucifer had required he send souls to sleep to be visited in their dreams; to render them vulnerable and open to the archangel's influence. He had guided Hiro Hamada and Robert Callaghan to Lucifer. This man might go the same way - and he didn't need to send him to the land of nod. It's just helpful business, right?

He also does just want to see what will happen. It's amusing to think about.]

Try offering a little prayer.

[He offers a boyish smile.]

Or, well, you can always call him on your phone.

[followorders]

[He ignores all but the last sentence.]

He's an Import.

[Lucifer. He knows the myth from his world. A fallen angels the ancient religious text had called him. It had spawned a wave of media frenzy in the 21st century that had died down yet lingered in his own timeline.

Locus gives him a slight nod.]

Thank you for the information, Doctor.

[restingstitchface]

[Crane returns this man's nod by mirroring it. A slight birdlike tilt of his head, then he's leaning back in his chair.

He doesn't care about this man but he appreciates respect. It means people are facing their fears, swallowing them down, and acknowledging him as their better. Though he personally knows that one doesn't have to say what they mean. He's done it plenty of times. But the act itself? It still happened.]

You are welcome. Forgive me if I don't show you the way out.

[Being in prison and all.]

[followorders]

[Locus knows how to conduct business. He doesn't lack manners and tends to show respect to his enemies as well as allies so long as they're useful. If they're not, he gets rid of them.]

That won't be necessary.

[He stands.]

I can find my own way out.

[He turns then without another word and leaves. He got the information he wanted.]