24 ⚜ Anonymous Text / CW: abuse mentions

[restingstitchface]

Whether a man is a criminal or a hero is a matter of perspective.

But if you don't want to play your role anymore, and are removed from your motivation for being who you are, what do you do? Do you seek redemption and rehabilitation and transform as an individual, or do you repeat negative behavior? How much do you believe people change only because they are imPorted? In short, do you believe people can change?

If I had anybody willing to discuss this in private with me, I assure you, I'd not be raising the issue publically.

Thank you in advance.

Comments

[restingstitchface]

Then you'll permit me to tie you up in good conversation?

["And not your own straitjacket" goes unsaid.]

[slightlyoffchilt]

Are we talking about a public venue?

[restingstitchface]

Whatever makes you comfortable, Frederick. I am prepared to suggest a location suitable for both of us, but I'm afraid the network has eyes.

[slightlyoffchilt]

Someone specific watching you?

[restingstitchface]

Both of us, which is precisely why I am being careful. Neither of us want an audience.

[slightlyoffchilt]

And does this individual know that you are I do not share the same hobbies?

[restingstitchface]

Luckily I think so. Even still, best not to draw attention, wouldn't you say?

1/2

[slightlyoffchilt]

You bring up a fair point.

[Now he's paranoid about it.]

private;

[slightlyoffchilt]

Better? It might take the individual a moment to figure out that I've set an encryption.

perma-private;

[restingstitchface]

No time to waste, then. Not unless you feel like a little sport.

[A playful game of analysis between psychiatric compatriots. Or whatever it is Chilton thinks they are.]

Would you care for a little rendezvous Friday evening? Maurtia Falls. Municipal park.

[A soothing, quiet private place good for all involved?]

[slightlyoffchilt]

Evening, around six? Or seven?

[Enough time that there was still some faint daylight to gloss beneath. Chilton couldn't say he trusted Crane in the dark.]

[restingstitchface]

You say that like you're expected in bed by eight.

[Like a child who isn't in charge of his agency.]

Six will be fine.

[slightlyoffchilt]

I don't want those things going bump in the night bumping me, Jonathan. Six it is.

[Would you like to log this? Or perhaps action thread it from here?]

let's action!

[restingstitchface]

[Crane folds his arms across his chest.

He shifts on the bench and keeps his eyes on the pigeons on the grass. Given he now looks like a man in his mid-forties, he's playing the part. He's set a couple of papers on the empty space on his left, under an open container filled with grain.

Without warning, he snatches a handful of seed out that box, rubbing it between his fingers. Though he is not an exceptionally friendly man towards animals, he takes exception to birds. He pulls back his hand and flings the seed across the lawn, aiming with perfect precision.]

[slightlyoffchilt]

Don't you look darling? Picturesque, in fact.

[Chilton comes up from behind, as he is wont to do. Strolls in at the right corner, slow and cautious steps. To onlookers, it might seem as though Chilton wanted to avoid scaring the birds away. But Chilton assumed Crane knew better.]

Odd little habit, must be one of your greater charities.

[A brisk, pleasant day. The sort of weather that would raise no eyebrows over the fact of two men chatting in conversation.]

[restingstitchface]

[Crane's attention remains on his avian friends, while he burrows his fingers into the seedbox. He isn't fond of approaches from behind, the loss of control involved, but life's events have conditioned him to find them charming. Predators circle downwind - but what if he sits patiently in the middle and lets them come?]

I dare say so.

[He tilts his head at the bench as the pigeons chow down another handful of grain.]

I'm widening the circle of my curiosity, that's all.

[slightlyoffchilt]

[He walked around, giving a wide berth of an arc as he approached the empty side of the bench, and was careful not to disrupt the birds that Crane had lured. It was a charming scene, he wanted to commit as much as possible to memory. Assuming a slow descend onto the bench, Chilton took care to leave a space between himself and Crane -- a position none too intimate, not too close.

It was an obvious display of defense.]

How do you know he hasn't followed you? Your eavesdropper?

[Straight to the point.]

[restingstitchface]

[Crane tilts his head left, twisting his body to the right as he goes, and crosses a leg in Chilton's direction, arranging himself to make a theatrical impact.]

Primarily, his utter lack of presence. And the lack of violence against my person.

[He says with a practised tone.]

Regardless, if you are scared of being seen with me, may I suggest you return home?

[slightlyoffchilt]

I wouldn't want to admit any anxiety either which way, Jonathan. Simply could not stand to enable your fixation, naturally.

[A bit of tongue in cheek, and his tone signified as much. Nevertheless:]

You are on a strict and narrow path already. I've heard good things. [Behaving nicely, that Doctor Crane.] Does it suit you? Or does it suit them to think it suits you?

[restingstitchface]

You tell me.

[He wraps his fingers together in his lap and ignores the tingling in his skin, and the burning sensation that threatens to scour away his cold anger. Hearing his name given in such an unbalanced position, personal and unprofessional, draws him away from himself. So he keeps himself steady, doing nothing but looking calm and in control.]

I cannot rob you of the opportunity to do a little analysis, can I? It would be inhumane.

[And maybe he's interested to hear what Chilton thinks. Since few people think at all.]

[slightlyoffchilt]

Oh, and you are anything but inhumane.

[Spoken with a quirk of a smile, as Chilton looked over the posture that Crane presented. So precise, so controlled. The very image of a civilized man with nothing to fear, surely.]

I think you are biding your time. Waiting for an opportunity -- you are not a stupid man, Jonathan. You won't simply jump back into the fray because you are inclined to do so, no.

[Chilton crossed one leg over the other now, and rested his elbow on the top of the back of the bench.]

And I am sure he knows that, too. Must be giving you a lot of special attention.

[restingstitchface]

[Crane sits there in silence for a few moments.

He seems reluctant to discuss his special project at first. He clears his throat a little and makes a show of seeming lost in thought. It's a display that's as tightly controlled as his expressionless facade. Chilton is not a stupid man - he would not tolerate his voice if he were. He is very smart to be afraid. That's why he's crossed his leg to protect himself, and is asserting his dominance by resting his elbow over and behind.

His eyes close to deny the unspoken threat, and he unfolds his hands into an open position.]

Not as much as you're hoping, I'm afraid. Not unless you think he lives and breathes his existence with the goal of helping people like me.

[Those with problems. He doesn't have to lace his voice with his disgust at that popular opinion.]

Which, incidentally, would be a partly correct analysis. He invests a lot into fixing his hometown. Wherever that maybe.

[slightlyoffchilt]

People like you. Who are his other Projects?

[The way Chilton says the word, the implied capitalization is pronounced. A measure of importance, a relatable endeavor. Crane and his ilk, it seemed, already belonged to another. Chilton found that to be interesting.

And even more interesting was how Crane considered Batman to be the opposite, not as a project manager but of a special project all his own. Eventually one reality would supersede the other, eventually one man would be muzzled.]

A hometown you are familiar with, of course. [A quick tilt of his head, acknowledgment that Crane knew a lot more than what he was letting on.]

Do your timelines match up?

[restingstitchface]

Unfortunately not.

[Crane clenches his jaw without realizing. It isn't right. He's been creating threads and spinning them tightly for so long. Now where they end and where they've gone to - he has no idea.]

The names and behaviors are essentially the same for me to handle, but they are not the personalities I am accustomed to. [He straightens his back.] Everything considered, I suppose we're an eclectic family. Awfully different, but we share a purpose that somehow makes us fit together.

[He twists his answer to Chilton's first question together with his answer to the second. Harleen Quinzel. Julian Day. Himself. A mismash of strange people who know the Batman and share a home in common.

There's also the noticable absence of a discussion of his own special project. Batman. The name might be the same, but this one's not his. Frustrating, isn't it?]

[slightlyoffchilt]

Perhaps it is better this way. [In lieu of sympathy, Chilton offered opportunity. Such was his manner.] Different enough for starling analyses. A fresh intellectual courtship.

[Alloying the mind with the heart, it was a bit cheeky on Chilton's part. But he wasn't about to undersell the value of a nemesis, now when he had his own experiences with Hannibal Lecter. His dislike and sense of betrayal fueled his projects that had followed Hannibal's wake, after all.]

I wouldn't expect you to be forthright about your intentions with him, but...

[But Chilton was asking anyway.]