(no subject)
Who: Harvey Dent and Jonathan Crane
When: After this thread.
Where: Clock Tower then.. WF HQ I guess
Rating: PG 13
Warnings: snarking. teeth grinding of ultimate frustration.
Summary: Crane loses a coin flip and is forced into coffee and conversation with Harvey.
To say he didn't like Crane was a small understatement, loath was a good word. Detest, admonish, abhor, he was pretty sure he could fit in a few SAT level descriptions for the feeling but Purgatory was sadly lacking in dictionaries or thesauruses at his disposal. Just remembering Rachel's stories on the matter, the files and witness accounts and her hushed voice; no, that was more than enough description. This man was a monster, just as much as the clown covered in gunpowder was.
Harvey was a good politician though, he read his strategy books, his Machiavelli and Arts of War and all those fun guide lines to putting up a fight. Anyone with half a brain knew to keep their enemies close, and now with Batman- Bruce, damn that would take a lot of getting used to (who'd have thought that spoiled brat could do something decent? Alter ego was a good word for it, along with maybe a mild case of schizophrenia.) This Crane was his enemy too, and at the moment he owed Batman, big.
Which brought him to the fun little stories, blown up, dead as a doornail, get the skin graph next time, thoughts he pushed aside, he really couldn't dwell. There was too much to do, too little time to do it before something spun into chaos. Focus on Crane for now. He thought. The clown will need to wait.
He rested against the Clocktower door, waiting for his companion to show himself; a man like Crane was proud, Harvey figured, he wouldn't run from an open challenge like this. His nervous tic took over, coin flipping through the air and back to his palm before sailing up again. Heads, heads, heads. He smiled. Crane never asked if the coin was fair.
When: After this thread.
Where: Clock Tower then.. WF HQ I guess
Rating: PG 13
Warnings: snarking. teeth grinding of ultimate frustration.
Summary: Crane loses a coin flip and is forced into coffee and conversation with Harvey.
To say he didn't like Crane was a small understatement, loath was a good word. Detest, admonish, abhor, he was pretty sure he could fit in a few SAT level descriptions for the feeling but Purgatory was sadly lacking in dictionaries or thesauruses at his disposal. Just remembering Rachel's stories on the matter, the files and witness accounts and her hushed voice; no, that was more than enough description. This man was a monster, just as much as the clown covered in gunpowder was.
Harvey was a good politician though, he read his strategy books, his Machiavelli and Arts of War and all those fun guide lines to putting up a fight. Anyone with half a brain knew to keep their enemies close, and now with Batman- Bruce, damn that would take a lot of getting used to (who'd have thought that spoiled brat could do something decent? Alter ego was a good word for it, along with maybe a mild case of schizophrenia.) This Crane was his enemy too, and at the moment he owed Batman, big.
Which brought him to the fun little stories, blown up, dead as a doornail, get the skin graph next time, thoughts he pushed aside, he really couldn't dwell. There was too much to do, too little time to do it before something spun into chaos. Focus on Crane for now. He thought. The clown will need to wait.
He rested against the Clocktower door, waiting for his companion to show himself; a man like Crane was proud, Harvey figured, he wouldn't run from an open challenge like this. His nervous tic took over, coin flipping through the air and back to his palm before sailing up again. Heads, heads, heads. He smiled. Crane never asked if the coin was fair.