#cranetm

[bullsh1tterz]

🗣️ !

Send me 🗣️ for incorrect quotes of your muse and mine : : @cranetm

ONE.

Adam : I know every song to ever exist it doesn't matter if it's from the past, present or the future. Crane: Oh yeah? Then continue this. Crane: I don't cook I don't clean- Adam : So let me tell you how I got this ring. Adam & Crane: ….. Adam & Crane: GOBBLE ME, SWALLOW ME-

TWO.

Crane: banging a pen on the table out of frustration Adam : Stop that. How would YOU feel if I banged you on the table? Crane: I— Crane: I don’t know the correct answer to that question.

THREE.

Adam : I did it! I memorized everything in the book! I'm gonna ace this test! Crane: Ok, Adam , I'll give you one more question before you go. What ended in 1918? Adam : 1917. Crane: …You're ready.

[aston1sh1ng]

( @cranetm ) ... is that a challenge?

[jewelstole]

starter for @cranetm

there were few as frightening as crane. his extremities knew no bounds. " i don't know what you want .. but let me set things straight , i don't have it. "

[bullsh1tterz]

: : @cranetm : :

[talescfshadows]

" betrayal is a matter of perspective. it's nothing personal. " | [ 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝙼𝙴𝙳  𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂. ]  𝚝𝚑𝚎  𝚊𝚛𝚝  𝚘𝚏  𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚢𝚊𝚕 | @cranetm

He burned with the rage coursing through his veins, a silent vow to get his revenge now spinning around in his mind. They were supposed to be partners, working together to rid the world of the putrid and put the fear of God back into the people of Gotham. At least, that's what John had thought they were doing. If he had known that the addicts he took from the streets to punish had become a part of Crane's experiments, he never would have allowed Crane anywhere near them. More fool him for believing that Crane shared his goals when he'd asked to take a few of the lost souls John had taken off of his hands.

At the very least, he'd known Crane was trying to create some sort of fear toxin that would put people in their places. However what they saw as people's proper places were clearly very different. Crane didn't believe in God...no...he saw himself as God and only wanted people to be afraid of the 'Scarecrow'. This wasn't about a matter of perspective, it was a matter of integrity and evidently Crane had none. "Sure, and it won't be anything personal either when I crush you like the scrawny bug you are."

[babydxhl]

@cranetm | starter call.

Sound travels too easily in Arkham's infirmary; long before she can see Crane, Mary can hear the click of his shoes on the polished floor, as easily as she can hear the nurse sighing by the door, can hear the soft weeping of the inmate at the other end of the room.

She's watching as he rounds the corner. Criss-cross apple sauce on a bed with a mattress so thin it might not even be there. A blanket designed to rip under the vaguest stress. Shoes, no laces. It had been raining when they'd pulled her out of the transit van �� she can feel the damp mist of it still in her hair.

"Are you my welcoming committee?" she asks. Feigning confidence. Her voice rasps faintly in the back of her throat. "Someone should rethink that. I already know you have terrible bedside manner, Dr Crane."

[praynot]

❛ my my, you've been busy. ❜ ｡° ⸻ @cranetm.

       ❝ Wicked don't rest so neither can I. ❞   A simple curt response though not for lack of warmth. Lee regards the other with as much plain personability as she's capable of. No smile, but no animosity, either.   ❝ The bureau rescheduled for me. Something tells me you didn't let them do it a third time. ❞

[volucerrubidus]

[ lonely ] (but in a menacing way lol)

Non-Verbal Angst Prompts || Accepting

The hairs on the back of Tim's neck stand to attention when he hears the footfalls of another person approaching where he hadn't expected to find one. Likewise, the silhouette sends static down his spine when he whirls to face them.

It's supposed to be hard to sneak up on Red Robin...

Slowly, more details become visible by the scant light in the defunct lab space, filtering through dirty, broken window glass. Dark hair, light eyes, tall stature. The glint of eyeglasses. The posture of someone who notably seems to lack fear.

The air itself feels tense, as Tim stands off with one Dr. Jonathan Crane.

He wets his lips before speaking quietly, "If I dust for fingerprints, will I find yours on this equipment?"

[pv55y]

“suffering? you haven’t seen anything yet.”

          CATWOMAN NARROWS HER EYES, EXPRESSION DEFIANT & DISDAINFUL     [ SO, WHAT ELSE IS NEW? ]     FACING HER ADVERSARY, LIPS BEGINNING TO QUIRK INTO SOMETHING PLAYFUL ( —CURIOSITY KILLS, BUT SO DOES SHE ) AT HIS WORDS as they hang in the air. But she is no stranger to threats; SHE WANTS TO LAUGH,     ❛❛     SUFFERING ?     ❜❜     a painful echo, from the chest, heavy as it lays thickly between them; a rotting thing, her voice, HER EYES flicker between something dark ( unhinged, even ) & pain.     ❛❛     Suffer-ing, suffer, to suffer; funny how if you use a word enough times, it loses its meaning? Funny how that works, huh?     ❜❜     

          PUPILS SLIT AS THEY NARROW AS SHE GATHERS HERSELF; like a rubberband all but ready to snap, her body stiffens as such, whatever play she’d been previously exuding now gone from her system     [ LIKE IT WAS NEVER THERE IN THE FIRST PLACE ]     THE BUZZING, the sounds around them are driving her bonkers; the hum of the lights, leather sliding harshly across his chest, the breathing…     ❛❛     You think you know what I’ve been through ?     YOU THINK YOU CAN SCARE ME WITH YOUR LITTLE TOXINS & NIGHTMARES ?     It’d be PARADISE compared to what I’ve gone,     ❜❜

The Catwoman deliberately steps closer with as much grace as predatory; lips now curling, deforming into something rabid. THE KITTY WANTS TO BITE !     ❛❛     I’ve clawed my way out of hell more times than you can imagine, Crane. Fear & suffering? We’ve gotten acquainted well,     ❜❜     DANGEROUS PURRING, RUMBLING OF THE CHEST, A LOCKED GAZE ; she doesn’t care what he sees in her, whether he believes her to be genuine or not, REAL OR NOT,

          ❛❛     BUT YOU ? You’re just another man hiding behind a mask, trying to control what you don’t understand. SO GO AHEAD, TRY TO SHOW ME WHAT SUFFERING REALLY LOOKS LIKE. But be careful Doctor; CATS DON’T DO WELL WHEN CORNERED,     ❜❜

[bullsh1tterz]

Doing it for one's self. A bit of the otherwise much too... open-ended response which grabs Adam's interest. Why, though? What obligation does Adam have towards himself to do anything for it? What if said self'll only weaken by getting 'fixed'; what if it's not made for mending? It bothers him that he can't risk asking, resulting in a light purse about his lips as he leans a little sideways, two palms pressing against his knees.

He mulls over the other's words for a moment, breaking them down for himself and deciding that although not quite empty, they were not quite so revealing. Childhood wasn't easy. School matched it. In what sense? To what degree? He can feel a knot burning at his stomach, this irritation at being taken for a fool, perhaps, which he believes to be the sentiment being extended his way.

"Tit for tat, vague for vague. Y'asked what I'd do to screw myself up?" a pause, specifics slowly being omitted in his psyche until he boils them all down to: "Continue as I am and add a little extra fuck-uppery of a few specific types that, uh, to be scientific for ya: suck more. " A frustrated little smile. "That answer y'question?" Narrowed eyes, sarcasm lacing the inquiry.

"Not so dandy when you're the one left high 'n dry, yeah? Take that attitude under the sheets 'n y'r left hand's gonna get real strong soon." A colourful statement to spoil a monochromatic setting - and yet the vulgarity softens in favor of the honesty in it; his only way of voicing to the other an earnest dislike towards the way he speaks - the way he regards him.

Then, a longer pause. A halt in the air. This time with a repressed curiosity about it - some attempt at impulse control that entirely fails the minute Adam decides to open his mouth up again and let spill a focus of his from earlier. "You said ... the pain got too much. What kinda pain? Physical, emotional, bit 'o both with parental issues on the side? Were ya beaten, scrutinized, what? Was little baby Crane just too damn pretty at school that the girls got jealous and stole his lunch money? Give me somethin' solid 'n I'll slap on one of those fuck-upperies I've in mind."

crane  exhales,  brows  lifting  in a little surrender of his own, just for a moment.  ❛ alright.  let’s see… ❜  he sets his pen down, leans back, and scrutinizes adam carefully.  and as he does so, he thinks back to his own past.  his childhood.  his grandmother.  crane has absolutely no interest in opening up to anyone, much less adam;  but that doesn’t mean he’s unwilling to produce the illusion of vulnerability.  ❛ my childhood wasn’t easy.  my.. family situation was unstable.  and life at school was hardly any better. ❜ he isn't lying, either.

❛ i hesitate to use the words  broken  or  fixed  in such circumstances, but—  i  was  able to eventually find help.  time, distance, and adequate support helped me to heal from my trauma. ❜ he thinks back to his brief stint as a psychology professor at gotham university. ❛ of course, it wasn't always easy. there were plenty of bumps in the road. ❜ plenty of... non believers. ❛ but i kept at it. ❜ there's a distant look of satisfaction in his pale eyes, as if he's thinking back on something.

then, with a breath, crane refocuses. ❛ ..at the end of the day, adam, i did it for myself. there came a day where the pain was too much, otherwise. ❜ indeed, it had seemed a matter of life and death. be ground into a pulp by outside forces, or forge a path ahead— no matter the cost.

❛ does that help? ❜ he cants his head to the side. seems doubtful. and, ultimately, it doesn't matter. progress will be made whether adam likes it or not.

[bullsh1tterz]

: : @cranetm : : GETS A MOODBOARD. ( Crane && Adam )

[aston1sh1ng]

₊🐜❜ ( @cranetm said  〉

"People rarely notice things right in front of their eyes, don't you find?"

Scott shrugs, two cups slightly veering to the right with the gesture. " Yeah, pretty much. It's why hiding in plain sight works wonders." he agrees, grinning thereafter and extending one of them to the other. He'd gone the extra mile and asked around for what Crane seemed to like, settling, then, for strong black tea ( and hoping everyone isn't a big fat liar. )

"But sometimes they just pretend not to." a cheeky little wink. "Like, say, a certain highly intelligent co-worker of mine being conveniently oblivious to hints that I want him to come with me to the movies, for example."

[jewelstole]

cranetm asked: " that's a lot of blood. " blood, blood, gallons of the stuff !

her mask is cracked. a few fresh corpses are at her side. " .. meow. " she says , licking her wounds. " it's hardly my fault .. they put their hands on me. "

[ourpretender]

— tutor's office. @cranetm

as is his nature, oliver arrives early. professor ware had been notified just a week prior, and the rearrangement of their schedules — though exchanged through haughty and arguably condescending e-mails — had come swiftly. he is provided a name alongside a respective office; further information lost between the stiff conversation. still, ever since befriending felix, oliver cares little for academics — for reading, for exerting effort where he isn't appreciated (nevertheless noticed). and thus, he enters without lavish expectation, hands clasped politely around a lined notebook. the figure that meets him is — in nearly all facets — opposing of professor ware. he is young, for one. a handsome man, striking in his features — in the blue of his eyes — and well-kept, ironed down. oliver bristles in habit. "professor crane?" courteous then, he offers a pinned smile. "oliver."

[monstroum]

[ cont. from here ] / @cranetm

dent stared him down from across the table . the asylum's visiting schedule had been altered due to a recent security breach , but harvey had still managed to keep his appointment with one of arkham's most infamous ex-employees ; good old JONATHAN CRANE . the uniform did not suit him ; it made him look smaller and frailer than he actually was . but even so , the good doctor looked down on him , believing himself to be superior to harvey ( to everyone really ) when it came to intellect and wisdom ㅤ─ ㅤ THE UNIVERSE HELD NO MYSTERIES TO MR . CRANE . and yet ... harvey chuckled . " yeah , well . " he leaned back in his chair , tilting his head at the inmate . " your cell is , what , six by eight feet ? " dent furrowed his brow , feigning pity . " guess that's as big as the picture's ever gonna get for you . " a cheeky grin spread across his face , the kind that should be put on campaign ads .

but , as happy as dent might have been to see his old buddy in chains , the fact remained that CRANE HAD RUINED MANY OF HIS CASES . from the first moment he had stepped into court ( to aid goons and murderers and mobsters avoid blackgate through insanity pleas ! ) the district attorney had pinned him down as POISONOUS . slowly the cockiness he wore so well faded away and gave place to something cold and serious ㅤ─ ㅤ inside his pocket , dent's silver coin felt awfully heavy .

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ" how many criminals walked free in the name of progress , crane ? how many lives were ruined ? "

[babydxhl]

❛ You must overcome these delusions that are disguising your reality. ❜

hannibal sentence starters | still accepting.

Mary has her hands over her face, fingers splayed, eyes shut. She hates it. Hates giving him that — some physical sign of her own hurt, like a wounded and frightened animal. Like she is the rabbit trapped.

"I know what's real," she says. But her words are slow; she knows her voice wants to strangle itself upwards, her cadence to regress. "I know what's real," she repeats through gritted teeth.

Does she?

She thinks she does.

In Arkham, Mary Dahl sits quiet, polite as a church mouse, takes her medication. They play with her dosage not like it's an inexact science, like they say, but like they're children doing experiment. She is their test dummy, their doll — sometimes in the middle of the night, she dreams there is a cog in the middle of the back, turned by latex gloved hands.

Wind her up and watch her go.

She presses her fingertips in at her eyelids and watches the colours burst. She can sense him there, studying her.

"Go away. Get away from me."