maskormenacelogs | I never lost one minute of sleeping

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I never lost one minute of sleeping

WHO: Wayne and Crane
WHERE: Wayne Technologies
WHEN: 19th January
WHAT: Batman's keeping watch on his villains
WARNINGS: Will be updated

[Crane doesn't say anything, doesn't move except to quietly, critically eyeball the room. Upon walking in, his gaze had first fallen on Bruce's desk, and then he'd turned to face the window and the skyline. It goes over to the shelf in seconds, and the books he sees reassures his own ego, and he stands there quietly, oblivious like a bird to what's going on inside the office.

He's severely ignorant of Bruce himself as his mind begins severely cutting into his analysis of the man. Like him, Bruce doesn't go around doing what he does for fun; they are cerebral and logical; and use logic and reason. And through their logic they retain their sanity.

Anyway, he's made their appointment, his first, finding himself on firmer footing on hostile ground. The insult of assuming he needs somewhere neutral, someplace safe, had never materialized. Well, he's reading it between the lines, that he's a coward. He looks as though he knows that it's the stick to beat him towards the carrot.

That is what he has a problem with. He pulls on his cuffs, and then clasps his hands at his back. Dignified. Respectful. Wearing a clean suit with slip on brogues because he simply didn't have the time to leave his house. It isn't that he's here to listen to offers of help, he reminds himself. It's to show he helps himself.]

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[Bruce is sitting behind his desk when Jonathan enters the room, watching him rather studiously in his approach. When the distance between them closes, he stands to greet him, expression neutral. He doesn't extend his hand-- he doesn't want to insult him with false pleasantries.]

I was hoping you and I would be able to meet a little more honestly since the last we spoke, Jonathan. [Since he had shown Bruce his true face.]

Still, thank you for coming.

[Jonathan doesn't look interested in talking for a moment. He adjusts as well as he can to a second voice interrupting his trail of thought; this office is bigger, and its furniture eloquent, expensive. He isn't ostentatious at work, but in the privacy of his own home these pieces would sit well.

He isn't surprised to find how much hearing his first name hurts. Open honesty, yes - but it's the only name he's heard as a patient for the last ten years. It is the word that grounds his attention, however.]

I know how social protocol works, Mr. Wayne. [Nothing personal, Bruce. But you're making him insecure.] So, what's new?

[Bruce doesn't answer at first, instead he watches him for a moment. He's certain they're both aware that there's somewhat of a mental game going on between the two of them, consciously or subconsciously.]

I've been thinking about our conversation, I'm sure you remember it.

[He gestures to a small bar off to the left.]

Can I get you a drink?

[The part of his mind that enjoys prestige, respect, guesses where accepting a drink might lead. It would broach a little bit of trust between them, perhaps. One could be trusted to act a certain way, though they might be a foe. It would also be nice to be waited on by this man and all he is.

He shakes his head and clasps his wrists over his stomach. A defensive gesture, but one given as a lie.]

Alcohol and anti-psychotics. How do you think that'll turn out?

[You know this, don't you Bruce?]

[He certainly does, and he didn't quite expect to catch him in a lie so easily, but it's the little questions that will make him slip up, he suspects.]

Of course. My mistake.

[Instead, he circles back around to his desk and takes a seat, gesturing as well to that seat in front of him.]

Please. [A pause, as he waits.] As to our conversation, I was wondering if you've given it any more thought yourself?

[The little questions, yes. The mundane ones he's stopped thinking about these days. No, he's not accepting treatment - and he feels no motivation to start it. He doesn't need fixing. He doesn't need help from doctors hardly deserving of their title. He's also aware of what the medication does and what it's side effects are.

He doesn't approach the chair instantly. He circles around the desk, inspecting the shelves as Bruce fields his question. Rubs his chin. Runs that hand over the back of that seat and, with some threatrical sense, finally seats himself.]

You asked me if I've considered doing this differently.

[He leans to the other side and allows his eyes to wander, focusing on the ceiling. It's time to dip his toes in the water.]

Help me teach again. Or provide me with the means to continue my work in peace.

[Science. Psychology. English. Chemistry. He visibly bristles at the thought of being stabbed in the back by those cowards at his college. Give him a project, Bruce. But let him believe he's in control.]

Edited 2016-12-20 17:07 (UTC)

Hm. I find it interesting that you would broach the subject first. Maybe you had some idea that I was thinking of something similar.

[Bruce taps his knuckle on the rich varnished wood of his desk, considering more like a businessman now than a makes vigilante. When he stops, he sits back and rests that same hand on his chin.]

So, tell me then. What did you have in mind?

[He crosses his right leg, resting his hands on his knee.]

I did consider [there's the briefest flicker of annoyance on his face] facilitating the acceleration of the compound. To more swiftly alter the fundamental personality structure and morality of the subject. My experiments on my patients reduced recidivism. There is also a mild fascination in investigating the illusional perception of family figures; the father, the mother, grandparents and the like.

[Bruce doesn't seem particularly enthused by that response, as evidenced by his rather austere expression.]

You do understand, of course, that positive or negative response is questionable if attained through a perpetually induced altered state. It's different than, say, correcting chemical imbalances via drug therapy. I do think, of course, that there are distinct possible benefits from fear toxin therapy, but with a greatly decreased window of effect and in the safety of your office here on the premises.

[His own expression turns particularily sour, as he recalls being subjected to his own chemicals. He meets Bruce's eyes with a gaze that doesn't wander. Not that it hides his intensity either.

The frustration of being demeaned in his own field is a secondary concern.]

And I suppose I might toss out a few magazines, fill a bowl with candy and throw them a reassuring platitude once it's all over? [He clicks his tongue in his cheek.] That might be the safe way to do it, but it isn't how they'll learn.

[The thought of helping doesn't thrill him. He just hates people.]

Therapy is about remediation, not punishment, doctor.

Let's be very clear about this-- this isn't an opportunity for you to experiment on human guinea pigs for the benefit of your own research, this is an opportunity to benefit your research by helping people.

You follow APA guidelines, you will be monitored and supervised during your time here, and you will continue to submit to your regular probationary visits. In return, you don't go to jail, and you have the freedom and resources to study psychotropics without restriction except with regards to its clinical use.

[Jonathan looks almost bored as Bruce continues speaking. It takes him longer than it should to give a simple answer.]

Monitored and supervised by who? You?

[Both know he'd tear others down, honestly.]

This is capitalism, not vigilantism, Jonathan. At the end of the day, I monitor and supervise everybody who works for me.

It will be a rotation of specialists chosen by me-- you'll never see one more than once a week. I'm sure you view this as a challenge, but it's not. It's a precaution. Still, if I think there is even the slightest unethical or unscrupulous behavior going on, I will shut this down in a heartbeat.

[A pause.]

Still, if you prefer to see me in person, all you have to do is say the word. I'll make the time.

[He folds his hands in his lap and tilts his head. Then he fixes his glasses with a finger. No more than once a week isn't fun at all, is it? No ability to affect behavior. It's not like he cares about studying those people. Still, admitting it when he's been manouvered. Made vulnerable. That's a challenge.

One he accepts, gracefully.]

If you would. [Boredom again. He'd rather be reading Joyce.] Your powers of observation are better than their scientific insight, and generally I prefer your company to theirs.

["Manners, boy."]

Thank you.

[While Jonathan looks bored, Bruce looks unamused. He imagines that, to Crane, this is going to be a game of wits of some sort. A way for him to play a little game of repartee that Bruce is thoroughly uninterested in. Maybe he has to play the game to work towards a potential rehabilitation, though. He can do that.]

If that's what you want, I'll have the schedule rotation changed. Once a week, a day of your choosing.

[His choosing. His control. Not that he doesn't believe Bruce is unaware of either. But it's a choice he owns. Bane had thought he'd given him a choice, which he could take away with the other hand. Like he could do that.]

Fridays. I expect you to be punctual, Bruce.

[Neither early nor late. Punctual.]

[Bruce gives him a dead-eyed stare and raps his knuckles against the desk for a moment.]

I'll be there when I'm there. [A beat.] Jonathan.

[For the time being, he sets aside that challenge. Finds his catharsis in denying Bruce his reaction and shrugs.]

Because you want to catch me. [He leans in with a conspiratorial look.] Do you believe you'll expose me planning some game when your back's turned?

[He closes his eyes and smiles into his chest a little at that.]

I'll be there when I'm there because I run a multi-billion dollar fortune 500 company, Jonathan. Not because I'm afraid you're up to trouble, though as long as we're being honest I've got my doubts about this whole thing.

At the end of the day, though, if you want to do something wrong you'll do something wrong. I certainly don't need to be watching you all day if that's your intention.

[He eyeballs the ceiling. Yes, yes. Bruce Wayne, prince of Gotham, running his multi-billion fortune company.]

I suppose not. You'll have to make allowances for me expecting privacy in the personal aspects of my life.

[His nose wrinkles. Privacy isn't something he's had for a decade, when he needs it. It would be nice.]

[Another dead-eyed stare, like he's entertaining a child, really.]

It's not personal, by definition, when it affects the lives of other people. I think you can at least agree to that much.

[There follows an awkward pause during which it seems Crane doesn't agree at all. The look on his face shows he's struggling with the concept. Then he looks at Bruce like he's said something obscene.]

I imagine it would be easier for you if I did.

[No agreement here.]

For the both of us, I think.

[God, his stare just gets deader and deader, as though little part of him are dying more and more as this conversation progresses. In time, he just may collapse in on himself.]

Either way, that's how things work here, you'll find. You'll find in time that all business is negotiation, Jonathan.

[Well, his own stare turns dead at that. A lump of pity in his throat, inferred from Bruce's comment, is tough to swallow. It makes sense to him that it isn't meant - but he knows what it is. He's heard it before.]

And here I thought it was about making choices. [Same thing, really. That's his point.] If people wilfully deny my terms, that's their decision. Quite absurd, really. It isn't that I go out of my way to irritate them.

You could have fooled me. [You annoy him quite a bit, actually.]

But let's dispense with repartee. Whatever you need is at your disposal, all you need to do is provide me with a list of your requirements so that I can have everything prepped and ready to go for you.

A submission of proposal, then.

[A research proposal.]

I hardly need educate you on ethics associated with conducting my research. Suffice that human experimentation is the only way to conduct anything to this debate. [The calm look he wears, in spite of contrary opinions, is well-practised - and worn round the edges.] Still, I will not attempt to change the foundation of our working relationship... without discussion or consultation. If that pleases you?

Suffice to say that abuse can happen when researchers themselves favor the interests of results over the interests of the subjects involved. Establishing a research ethics committee of sorts down the line may be a possibility, if that ends up being a route you'd like to explore.

[A pause.]

Until then, I think your suggestion works just fine.

[He meets Bruce's eyes, looking almost normal. He doesn't eyeball the ceiling to distract himself - or show his disdain. The power an ethical committee would give him here, considering the nature of people. The importance.

The fact he's not dismissive can be taken as a good sign.]

I think so too. It seems now's a good time to end today's chat, right?

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I never lost one minute of sleeping

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sorry for the late tag-- holidays :\

no problem!

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