MASK OR MENACE

WHO: Crane, Max, Walt, Kitty & Batman.
WHERE: Crane's apartment, Nonah.
WHEN: Month of January.
WHAT: Crane loves having visitors.
WARNINGS: Crane being a pretentious ass.

( the sea in storm, a night with no moon, and the anger of a gentle man. )



I | BRUCE

[Another noise. Another visitor, this one heavier. Time seems to move slower the closer they approach. He stands still inside his bedroom, pushing his tongue around his lips inside his mouth. His entire attention is focused on this man; less so on the shadows in every corner of the room. He wonders what will be the method of interrogation today. Not to say that the Batman doesn't understand the threat of pain, but he expects better. There is no room for disappointment.]

Well. You don't know how to knock, do you?




II | MAX

[A shadow running across the lawn.

Crane raises his head at that, and stares out his kitchen window. He keeps his eyes on the silhouette as it dodges to the side of the garden and tries to hide. He pulls a knife out the chopping block and wonders if the figure outside is acting on logical thought at all. Obviously not, because they're observing him inside his home. He stabs through a cold meal he had prepared and wrapped in clingfilm some days prior. It's probably sentient by now - but still edible.

But a twitch forces him to rub his right eye. He lays his knife down, does so, and then moves his dish to the table. It's damp. Rain had flooded the lawn earlier, making it a quagmire. He switches off the light but remains in the darkness.]




III | WALT

[Crane hates entertaining visitors. He hates their unclean bodies permeating sweat into his furniture. He hates their weak minds. He despises everything about people that has no functional use, as he views such things - and he despises it when he discovers fears that are predictable and common. Oh he loathes it when they're boring. Self-pitying babies lying to themselves they're survivors of trauma because mummy denied them a toy one Christmas.

Damn them all. He crosses his right leg and smooths his trousers over his knee as he observes Walt and waits for him to speak. His violence is far too amusing to leave unstudied. Walt had promised him something - no words needed - that was worth his time and effort. They are seated in his sitting room as a result; two cups of black coffee of the table.

He glances up and blinks once.]

Well, as you can see, I didn't need help breaking out of prison.




IV | KITTY

[The delightful thing about revisiting old patients is seeing how they have changed.

Nothing is so painful to the human mind as a great and sudden change. That experience is one he understands more than anyone. He had once wanted to cut down each and every straw that he could see; then he had wanted to stuff his clothes with it. He could add a couple of feathers. Tear apart the seams of his suit and stuff it all inside. The only way to push through his toxin had been to leave behind everything he had ever been. To plunge himself into his new life; to move with it; to love it deeply.

He closes the front door without complaint and leans forward to make certain it's locked. The thrill of discovery. It puts all the fun into his new life, doesn't it? The more humans understand their fears, the more they realize there is always something to be scared of. He doesn't just enjoy revisiting old cases. He loves them. He might have to talk to Kitty about this.

She'd been here for a while now. He tilts his head slightly, tracking her from one end of his hall to the other as she moves.]

I gave you the right to enter my residence. I didn't give you the right to touch everything. Straight ahead. First door on the right, if you would.