#phobicorvid

     Damp air brushed the back of his neck, and his shoulders shifted as if that could force the fabric of his sweater higher. Tsking sharply, he shrugged again irritably. If Ichy didn't get the window closed he'd have to do it himself, before realizing what the open skylight meant.

"You finally come 'round to the idea of sharin' how that ring of yours works, Sin?' An appropriate name honestly, lips twitching briefly. "Think we could have a bit of fun the two of us, if only you weren't so damned stingy.'

     Wrath coloured, pride coded, Jonathan's eyes flicked up to the bit of reflective glass he placed there for that very reason. A lack of fear did not mean a lack of self preservation. The alien always looked so well put together, sleek as the feline he could act like. Finicky, stand offish, holier than thou...

"There's leftovers in the fridge, Ms. Santos made too much for Harvey and his boys.' Pretty sure that was a lie. "It's spicy, don't know if you're equipped to handle it with that clever tongue of yours. The forked nature might expose a different set of buds.'

@fexrbound has been invited to tourney

@summerxmelodies sent a raven: ❛ how long have i been asleep? ❜ (beloved Scarecrow <3)

"N͎o͎t͎  ͎l͎o͎n͎g͎  ͎e͎n͎o͎u͎g͎h͎.' 

       It  wished  that  her  sleep  had  been  permanent,  jaw  shifting  as  teeth  ground  together.  He'd  thought  she  was  dead,  leaving  the  door  opened  a  crack,  just  enough  space  for  it  to  grip  and  force  the  door  open  in  the  back  of  his  mind  to  get  out.  Grief,  always  useful,  a  tool  keen  edged  and  helpful.  Quickly  taken  advantage  of  only  to  suffer  a  swell  of  disappointment  when  the  meddlesome  girl  pulled  through  after  all. 

       What  did  it  take  to  rid  them  of  this  distraction?  Fingers  reached  out  to  rest  against  the  pulse  that  was  unfortunately  beating  rather  healthily.  It  could  stop  that,  slowly  encircling  her  neck  though  it  didn't  begin  to  squeeze.  Too  quickly  and  Jon  would  rouse  himself,  reassert  himself,  and  it  would  be  shoved  to  the  back  of  his  mind  to  sulk  and  grind  its  teeth  impotently.  What  was  the  point  of  keeping  her  around?  Physical  pleasures  were  understandable,  Jon  required  that  enrichment  on  occasion,  but  that  could  be  charmed  with  a  bit  of  drawl  and  hint  of  teeth. 

       And  still  its  fingers  didn't  tighten,  simply  held,  body  leaning  closer  into  view  as  thumb  pressed  against  jaw  to  turn  her  head.  If  it  was  love,  that  was  simply  an  intoxicating  cocktail  of  electrical  surges  and  chemicals,  they  could  find  a  way  to  reproduce  it  easily  if  they  put  their  mind  to  the  task.  It  didn't  like  sharing  Jon,  this  canker  of  malice  and  violence  formed  by  years  of  abuse.  And  yet  here  she  was. 

"W͎a͎k͎e͎  ͎f͎u͎l͎l͎y͎,͎  ͎c͎h͎i͎l͎d͎.͎  ͎W͎e͎  ͎c͎a͎n͎n͎o͎t͎  ͎l͎i͎n͎g͎e͎r͎  ͎h͎e͎r͎e͎.͎'

Jonathan paused in the door to the office he'd been assigned, finger hooked in the handle of his mug mottling briefly seeing the familiar form near his desk. It would not be the first time Mr. Robertson had decided that he needed checking in on, tossing the files in hand onto desk as he lifted the mug to take a drank.

The very picture of unbothered, and to be honest there was no evidence that he'd done anything wrong. Was there a connection between him and the homeless community that had suddenly rioted and destroyed much of the center they'd been residing in? Yes, but not one that could be traced, he'd been sure of that. He could still see the way the toxin had sparkled in the air as he'd sprayed it letting the central air carry it though the room like dandelion fluff.

Though there'd been nothing gentle about the way the men and women had reacted in an attempt to escape the nightmares tormenting them.

"You look good, Robert! Finally gettin' some shut eye like I told you?' Falling into his chair, lips curled in a an smile. "Can't say the same for myself, think I might have overdone my own case load. I do hope this ain't goin' to be you askin' to take on a new client I am well and truly booked.'

@yoursdndispatcher's been invited to tourney...

Tipping the flask first over his own cup and then hers, Jonathan tucked it away into the inner pocket of his coat before reaching for the honey. A bit of toxin to start the morning, better than whiskey, or any hair of the dog he'd ever tried.

"There a reason this couldn't wait?'

The espresso machine hissed, lips twitching with amusement as the wand for the steamed milk screeched. Almost like being back in Arkham, dumping three heaping spoonful of sugar into his cup, hole covered by his thumb as he swirled his drink. Not that he didn't miss her, there were days he actually wished they were back home and everything was quiet again.

Shifting his bag with the side of his foot, he lifted a heel and pressed down on the corner, crushing the container. No one else would hear the chemicals missing, not with the chatter and machinery. But in about three minutes and seventeen seconds even people a block away would hear the screaming.

@doctordread's been invited to tourney...

@summerxmelodies asked: “I’m done jumping through your hoops.” (Jon for whichever version of Mel vibes the most with this hehe)

‘You used to say that in therapy.’

She seemed ticked, that was fair, that little trap he and Edward had worked on was meant to discombobulate via frustration. Maybe a bit too well, head canting to the side as he continued to step back. And then a bit more as he did a quick reread of her body language, lanky limbs creating distance though his eyes remained locked on hers after a few quick flicks.

‘Now to be fair, darlin’… Most of those hoops were the Riddler’s work, I just added a bit of… atmosphere.’

Toxin, low level, enough to make the skin crawl and the nerves jangle like windchimes. A pretty moss gray green in the air, and he hadn’t been expecting it to be her. If he’d know he'd have upped the dosage. Though if she didn't back down he'd just dose her with the new strain he'd ben working on. He'd meant to test it on Solomon Grundy, but Melody would do just fine.

       He  knew  he  should  not  take  it  personal,  it  was  not  a  personal  thing.  Harleen  would  be  Harleen,  staring  out  at  the  body  that  had  gone  tumbling  into  the  street  from  the  alley  he'd  been  tucked  into.  But  it  was  still  irritating  to  have  his  evening  interrupted  by  her  incessant  need  to  destroy  things.  He  could  almost  understand  if  this  was  about  that  clown  she'd  hitched  her  cart  to  that  damned  psychopath.

       But  he  recognized  that  cackle,  releasing  the  subject  he'd  been  watching  react  to  the  new  strain  of  toxin  he'd  wanted  to  test  outside  the  lab.  And  just  as  he'd  hoped  the  toxin  had  triggered  a  flight  response,  hurtling  through  the  Gotham  back  alleys  to  a  familiar  haunt.  The  scene  of  a  crime  that'd  been  yet  to  be  reported.

       The  sound  of  a  gunshot  had  his  eyes  rolling,  because  of  course  that  wouldn't  stop  her.  Irritation  at  the  interruption  had  his  teeth  grinding,  but  feet  were  moving,  carrying  him  towards  the  bar  and  inside.  Unsurprised  by  the  chaos,  it  only  took  him  a  moment  to  find  her,  at  the  center  of  things.  Because  where  else  would  she  be,  tripping  the  idiot  who'd  lifted  a  table  he  had  no  right  to  attempt  in  doing.

"Harley,  please.'

       Not  that  he  thought  she  could  hear  him,  not  over  the  blood  rushing  in  her  ears  as  she  swung  that  damned  bat  around.  The  smack  she  was  talking  as  if  anyone  gave  a  damn  about  what  she  said.  He  was  only  catching  a  word  here  or  there,  and  was  tempted  to  read  her  for  filth  the  moment  he  was  close  enough,  pulling  the  Smith  and  Wesson  from  his  lower  back  and  catching  the  man  about  to  brain  her  with  a  bottle  of  tequila  in  the  shoulder.

"Harleen!'

       Teacher  tone,  amused  that  it  and  not  the  sound  of  a  gunshot  stilled  three  of  the  brawlers.

@villainoustm's harley has been invited to tourney

@swansinstarlight sent a raven: "Eavesdrop" from Jonathan Crane about my OC, Helena Reicher

(I hope you're having a great day!!)

"Think  of  who?'

       He  sounded  like  a  damned  owl,  because  for  the  life  of  him  Jonathan  could  not  understand  why  he  was  supposed  to  know  anything  about  some  hostess  at  the  Iceberg  Lounge  of  all  places.  Had  he  his  druthers,  he  went  to  the  Black  Mask  Club.  And  even  then  only  for  poker  night  because  Edward  insisted  he  required  socializing.

       Why  Oswald  was  asking  him  made  no  sense  either,  Edward  brokered  in  information.  The  Cat  too.  Gossip  was  something  that  buzzed  like  background  noise  behind  him  as  he  worked  while  the  two  exchanged  notes.  Maybe  even  the  real  flippy  one  that  the  Bat  sometimes  called  home  to  help  handle  the  chaos.  That  one  had  an  ear  to  the  ground  even  all  the  way  out  in  Bludhaven.

"Nurse?'

       At  what  point  would  he  require  a  nurse  assistant?  They  tended  to  want  some  sort  of  credit  for  the  menial  tasks  when  it  was  his  own  genius  that  had-  God,  he  was  starting  to  sound  like  Edward...  Gaze  flicking  towards  the  woman  in  question,  his  shoulder  lifted  and  fell  in  a  shrug.  He  knew  that  Elliot  seemed  to  be  obsessed  with  something  outside  his  own  work,  which  was  sloppy.  That's  how  mistakes  were  made.

"I'm  not  currently  hirin',  no.'

but  tibby  do  you  have  a  favourite  photo  of  cillian  murphy?  obv  yes,  thanks  so  much  nobody  for  asking  me  this  .