Open Post 001

[2020mod]

• Step one: start a thread in this post!
• Step two: specify who the thread is for (or open) in this post!
• Step three: make people reply to this post!
• AND THAT'S THE WAY YOU DO IT.


And don't forget, there's still the ooc discussion post! And nothing needs to be contained to this post! Create new logs to your heart's content! This AU is yours, so have at it!


musebox • rules • character list

Comments

open;

[phobic]

The climb up from Hell had been a slow and agonizing one, rife with more broken bones than even Jonathan Crane, veteran of a hundred Bat-shaped street-fights, knew what to do with. But he had come across his epiphany, and clung to it with the tenacity that only men of his mental calibre could manage. He'd realized that few people really understood the meaning behind the message that Dante had left in his Divine Comedy -- but it was so clear to Jon.

All hope abandon ye who enter here.

It wasn't a warning. It was advice.

Because hope was the last thing they used to hurt you, because a man without hope, who never imagined a way out of his pain, could no longer be tortured. Not where it counted.

So he confined his dreams, and his hopes, to the nighttime, to sleeping fantasies where a black-winged savior skulked the edges of his subconscious and hearkened back to better days. With the injuries inflicted on him now, there was no way he was jumping rooftops with a Bat on his heels, hearing the snap of that cape in the wind and the breath he could imagine on the back of his neck.

He could barely walk.

All he did these days was what he was told. Break prisoners. Using only his words, he sat and calmly talked to them for hours, made them pliable. If the words didn't take, he prostituted his drug to them, and took sour comfort in every second of their screaming, and moved day to day like a man already dead where it mattered.

The Scarecrow hadn't whispered for months, and he sorely missed the company.

Re: open;

[paintsthetownred]

She has rules. Because she's an efficient assassin, useful and resilient and persistent, the people who hire her - so many of them - are willing to pay well when they find jobs she can do. As far as they know, she's a rather eccentric bounty hunter - she makes sure they don't suspect anything more.

She doesn't take hits on imPorts, or on innocents - she won't shoot up a room full of hostages for money - but with all the employers she's had, she has found that certain imports seem to have a hefty price on their heads.

So, in her downtime, she hones her stealth skills to a certain extent (gone are the days where she could charge into everything and attack with everything she has; that went out the window when the City changed) and follows anyone who catches her eye.

She doesn't know much about Jonathan Crane, only vague bits of information. She doesn't particularly care.

Her footsteps are barely audible on the concrete, and her coat drags across the ground now and then, rasping coarsely. It billows to and fro, dull crimson cloth fluttering in the wind, occasionally revealing a glimpse of metal underneath, or the flash of a laser-red eye.

It should be more than enough to tell Jonathan Crane he's being followed. She's being obvious about it.