maskormenace | 24 ⚜ Anonymous Text / CW: abuse mentions

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?]

[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.]

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.]

[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.

[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.]

[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?

Edited 2017-03-28 15:50 (UTC)

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?

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.]

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.

[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.

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?

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?]

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.]

[Though it was an obvious attempt by anyone's standards, Crane accepted it. Honesty worn on one's sleeve was easily manipulated within the gullible - but he welcomed honesty. He wasn't tolerant of insults aimed towards his intelligence.

His voice dropped in inflection.]

He is a man beneath that mask. My intentions are not aimed towards the symbol, nor the superstition accompanying it, but...

[A man can be observed, investigated, experimented upon, controlled.]

Everything in mind is educational, I assure you.

[Because he's so good at doing that, right?]

Educational. Of course.

[A believable enough line, as such was Crane's forte. But anything with I assure you on the heels gave Chilton reason to raise an eyebrow; it was in his nature to be the skeptic. It was in his nature to identify obsessions.]

And have you wrapped him in your very own caution tape, so to speak? Quarantined him from others interfering? Or is that a step you have yet to take?

[It was possible the Batman would anticipate such tactics from Crane, after all. But Chilton knew how subtle Crane could be, he knew how insidious... And given that Batman and Crane were from parallel experiences, different perspectives, that could very well have given the doctor the upper hand.]

[At first, Crane is mildly interested by the question, but it only lasts a second. He has no way of controlling what Chilton will do with the information. But whatever he's working on - rather, what he has worked on - it certainly can't be stopped. His face softens. He seems pleased with himself.

Confident. Cocky. Conceited.]

Interference wouldn't be necessary. It's obvious how much he invests himself in his fellow psychopaths, isn't it?

[His fingertips move under his chin. Co-dependency. It's so insidious.]

You have competition for his attention, is what I am saying.

[Not Chilton, of course. Frederick Chilton has his own project in motion, whether or not William Walker liked it. But he had identified enough of the material that routinely gets imported to know that others of a certain psychological perspective might take an interest in Batman.]

I'm simply advising you to act firmly.

[Advising. Of course.

Crane removes one leg from the other and replaces the lid on his container of feed. He takes a deep breath and retains his composure by letting it go. Hearing those words from this man was not unlike hearing them from the one who had advised him throughout university.

And that had ended so well for him, hadn't it?]

I'll keep your advice in mind.

[The disgust in his voice is well-disguised. But the fact he says nothing more...]

[The terseness of his reply is noted, and Chilton can't help but indulge a little smirk.]

Firm action requires a firm hand.

[He glanced down at Crane's own; Chilton was too keen on self-preservation to take Crane's in his, as was his impulse. Mm.]

But friendly advice aside, did you have another tangent you were interested in discussing?

Work. Well, it would be appropriate to discuss work, wouldn't it?

[There was something right in indulging in friendly psychiatric banter about their projects. It was natural. Except he had to do something more than just depend on his patients. He had to impose himself.]

If you would like, I will tell you about what my... employer... has me working on.

[Medication. Because he certainly wouldn't be employed in a clinical setting without his license - and with his reputation? But medication is a sphere that crosses over into psychiatry. And he knows exactly how insidious he's being.]

[Chilton's eyes had widened at the offering -- Crane was good with the tease, slipping it between his fingers like an ace of spades at a blackjack table. There was a craftsmanship in fitting the lure, and even Chilton would admit to that.]

Oh, Jonathan. [He smiled as the name hit his teeth Such familiarity.] Do tell.

[A little work-appropriate gossip to behold.]

[Crane rubbed his chin a little. He had made Chilton bite his lure, smiles and all, but in comparison to challenging him the satisfaction was rather third rate.]

Serotonergic psychedelics. Primarily to assist psychotherapy.

[There is a wrinkle between his brows.]

Primarily, he is concerned with redirecting my work into therepetic practice, not therapeutic abuse. [A short tone. The idea seems to piss him off. Tastes bitter.] Given the formal necessity of clinical work, it has been limited to theoretical applications...

[Not that he cares about checking he is licensed but YOU KNOW.]

[Now that earned a caustic chuckle. Chilton shook his head, vulpine in showing his teeth, and exhaled with a pleased sigh.]

Oh my goodness. You are playing with a masochist.

[Clearly he enjoyed the slap of failure, and surely even Crane knew that. Chilton, in contrast, preferred to pick the battles he could win.]

When does tenacity end and delusion begin?

[It was, of course, a rhetorical question.]

[He could be sarcastic, give a sincere answer, but he accepts Chilton's rhetorical question for what it is - publicly dissecting Bruce Wayne's faults.]

Oh, that's nothing. You should see the havoc he unleashes at night. Masochists do enjoy their hard games...

[He does, of course, IGNORE the double-entendre. Don't be disgusting, now.]

[He raised a single eyebrow.]

A less merciful man would inquire for details.

[And while Chilton was by no means merciful, he could be polite; simply alerting Crane to the fact that he had anchored meaning onto those words was not the same as prodding them.]

I am relieved you have him in good hands.

24 ⚜ Anonymous Text / CW: abuse mentions

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