Two for One.
Who: Dr. Jonathan Crane/Scarecrow, Ms Rose and Edward Nygma/The Riddler.
What: First off: Crane gives Rose the flammable liquids he stole from the engine room, using his scarecrowy weightlessness and Eddie's warden item. Later: Crane is a scarecrow, Eddie is German. Halloween keeps rolling on.
Where: First: Rose's room. Then: Eddie's room/the corridor outside.
When: Last day of the Halloween flood.
Warnings: Past battering of literal!scarecrow, possible warnings in future. Also: the scarecrow!body is might be a bit nightmare fuelish for some people.
If there was one thing that Crane hated, it was a successful mission that didn't feel successful. He might have gotten the fuel from the engine room, sure, but it didn't mean that those traps hadn't battered him around like nothing else. Not breathing was strange enough. Collecting bits of straw (was that important or not?) and putting it back inside himself endlessly was just frustrating.
He stomped up the stairs, or at least made a solid attempt at doing so. It came out more like a soft, padding sound. Crane sighed, which sounded just as weird and artificial coming from his scarecrow body as his voice did. He was ridiculously grateful to reach Rose's floor, not in the least because his arm was very much ripping from holding the weight of the can with its sloshing fuel inside. He paused to adjust it, not bothering to pick up the fragments of straw littering the top of the stairs. He held Eddie's question mark cane awkwardly under his other arm and tried to change the position of the can. No good. He'd just have to deal with the ripping and hope that his arm didn't fall off.
He managed to get to Rose's door, putting the can of fuel down on the ground. He tried to knock automatically, but the soft scarecrow hand just padded against the door. Crane spent a second looking at the floor. One day, he was going to kill the Admiral. And it would be glorious.
After a moments thought, he used Eddie's cane to tap against the door. Sure enough, it made a decent sound. Crane tucked it back under his arm, resisting the urge to support his damaged arm. What was the point? He could have repaired it, but he had a sneaking suspicion that these stupid costume bodies weren't going to last much longer. In more than one sense, in his case.
What: First off: Crane gives Rose the flammable liquids he stole from the engine room, using his scarecrowy weightlessness and Eddie's warden item. Later: Crane is a scarecrow, Eddie is German. Halloween keeps rolling on.
Where: First: Rose's room. Then: Eddie's room/the corridor outside.
When: Last day of the Halloween flood.
Warnings: Past battering of literal!scarecrow, possible warnings in future. Also: the scarecrow!body is might be a bit nightmare fuelish for some people.
If there was one thing that Crane hated, it was a successful mission that didn't feel successful. He might have gotten the fuel from the engine room, sure, but it didn't mean that those traps hadn't battered him around like nothing else. Not breathing was strange enough. Collecting bits of straw (was that important or not?) and putting it back inside himself endlessly was just frustrating.
He stomped up the stairs, or at least made a solid attempt at doing so. It came out more like a soft, padding sound. Crane sighed, which sounded just as weird and artificial coming from his scarecrow body as his voice did. He was ridiculously grateful to reach Rose's floor, not in the least because his arm was very much ripping from holding the weight of the can with its sloshing fuel inside. He paused to adjust it, not bothering to pick up the fragments of straw littering the top of the stairs. He held Eddie's question mark cane awkwardly under his other arm and tried to change the position of the can. No good. He'd just have to deal with the ripping and hope that his arm didn't fall off.
He managed to get to Rose's door, putting the can of fuel down on the ground. He tried to knock automatically, but the soft scarecrow hand just padded against the door. Crane spent a second looking at the floor. One day, he was going to kill the Admiral. And it would be glorious.
After a moments thought, he used Eddie's cane to tap against the door. Sure enough, it made a decent sound. Crane tucked it back under his arm, resisting the urge to support his damaged arm. What was the point? He could have repaired it, but he had a sneaking suspicion that these stupid costume bodies weren't going to last much longer. In more than one sense, in his case.