[Closed] [Backlogged]

[crackingcases]

Characters: Naoto Shirogane, Zatanna Zatara, Jonathan Crane
Location: Kuzunoha Detective Agency
Rating: PG-13
Time: Backlogged; Sometime after this conversation.
Description: Naoto shows Zee where Crane is kept and allows Zee to question the perpetrator.

Comments

[fishnets]

"Zatanna is fine," she near-immediately responds, eyes quickly darting to the weapon. That's what she did, after all. Catch the little things.

Making sure that the detective was aware who she was and that she meant no harm, the brunette mage moves forward, approaching her generous host. "I see. Unscheduled." That could go so many different ways -- the curious, the angry, and hopefully not the sort that were fascinated enough by him to help him. Crane usually worked alone, sans the occasional expendable lackey. However, the Scarecrow most certainly wasn't her area of expertise. Sure, she'd read his JLA file more than once (mostly skimming) and gone up against him a few times... but it was usually in a group. No, her specialty in recollection would be the Big and the Bad: the Joker, Darkseid, Amazo, Despero, Starro... a lot of o's, there.

Aside from them, it was the magicians and demons that she kept tabs on. Neron, Etrigan, Tannarak... Nergal. If only Bruce were here. He'd handle it so perfectly -- he'd know what to do. He'd have a solution that would work in this world and he'd glare at the Scarecrow and all would be well.

Or at least that's how she envisioned it. Since Bruce's death, she had knighted and sainted him in her memories, in her hypothetical situations. Love could do that to a person. "...er, anyway, is there anything in particular you'd like to know? I've not dealt with Crane regularly, but a close friend did and I've read his files a few times -- assuming this is the same one. Even then, I imagine any information I could provide would be useful, even if... he's some strange alternate or other." Oh, multiverse. Just go away already.

[crackingcases]

"His motives and his methods." Naoto said without hesitation. "Any insight you can give us into those areas would be more than we already have. He has been entirely closed-mouthed since we imprisoned him here. I am hoping that be seeing someone familiar, someone from his own world, Crane might offer information out of pride or friendship."

The young detective's eyes roved over the magician keenly, with calculation in her eyes rather than judgment. It was clear that she didn't seem to care whether Zatanna was telling the truth about her opposition to Crane. Whether the two were friends or foes, Naoto would glean useful information out of the meeting.

"Shall we?" The high-schooler stepped towards the back of the office. A door there led to a simplistic and unfinished area made of concrete and brick. There were more doors back here, perhaps a private bathroom for those that ran the Detective Agency, storage, and finally a distinctly solid metal door with short bars across a inch-high opening. The intent of this one was clear even without the pale young man that sat in a sat beside it.

"Raidou." Naoto said easily, her voice clearly showing its comfort as the shorter detective stepped up to him. Raidou stood, bowing a formal greeting the magician. Without thinking, the two partners stepped closer together, bond and friendship clear between them. "This is Ms. Zatanna Zatara. She is here to see the prisoner." Naoto explained, her eyes flicking to the opening in the door.

Raidou nodded silently, and after basic pleasantries were exchanged, the older detective moved to unlock the door for Zatanna. "We will be here." It was both a warning and an assurance that the young man gave, his gray eyes firm and unwavering. Naoto nodded firm agreement. "You can go in." She added after Raidou opened the door wide, revealing the small cell with its freshly done concrete walls and simple furnishings.

[fishnets]

"Where I come from," Zatanna begins without hesitation, "We have both ends of the spectrum -- we have people that dress up in garish costumes that commit crimes and harm people and try to take over the world and... we have people that stop them and try to make the world a better place. As for Crane, he goes by the moniker 'Scarecrow' and tends to focus his crimes on scaring people, as absurd as it may sound. As far as I know, he had a difficult childhood and I believe, in later adulthood, just snapped. I've heard that he can't feel fear himself and is sort of... on a quest to find a way to feel it." She wasn't sure. He seemed to enjoy it in other people and had more than once exclaimed that the only one who made him feel it was 'the Bat,' so it was an obvious assumption to make.

She hadn't ever thought she would be in a situation where she'd need to tell his whole backstory and name off his motives without reference. Why couldn't this be someone that had superpowers and was useless without them, someone she knew?

"I'm afraid I don't know much more than that I'm definitely not a friend. I was, however, close to his 'arch nemesis'," she makes a point of air quoting, "for a very long time. With any luck, that may spark some sort of reaction, but... I hate to tell you, that whatever he did... most of it -- if not all of it was done just because he could. Not all criminals have clear motivations or something that set them off. Sometimes..." She is quiet, because it truly does bother her to admit this, "people do evil because they can."

The brunette follows closely, peering about at the place curiously, not making any motion to not be obvious. Though it could be a way to make her seem open, it could also be misconstrued as something that was done in an attempt to make her appear less suspicious. It didn't help that she'd barely been here two weeks, either. People could pretend.

But she hoped that it wouldn't come off as that.

Zatanna watches the two, certain there's something between them, even if only comradeship. They trusted one another, which was definitely essential in their field of work. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I hope I'll be of some use to the both of you." Her bow is small and obviously Western, an attempt at consideration and politeness that doesn't quite hit the mark due to preoccupation.

Zee moves into the room, eventually, and gives it a quick look-over for anything to work with, if there's anything she could use to her advantage in the situation just in case something comes up. Not much, but she could improvise.

"Knock, knock," her voice is pleasant and melodic a cheerful smile spreading across her lips as she gives a little wave, "Dr. Crane?" Politeness. Addressing him by the correct title. She knew what she was doing, even if she didn't know him personally. Zatanna was a recognizable figure in her world... and for now, honey was a better approach then vinegar (or acid).

[ooc: ...oh lawd, he breaks out like, right after he sees her, right? She's going to get blamed, isn't she. ;;]

[ornithophobia]

It was probably to his visitor's advantage that Crane couldn't even be annoyed that she was interrupting him in the middle of something -- he had nothing for anyone to interrupt. Save his thoughts, of course, but any plan at escape was still strictly stuck in germination and... Well, to put it plainly, his first breakout in Gotham had only been possible because of al Ghul. A partner. While that had been somewhat of a healthy arrangement he, ah, wasn't about to rely on Kuroro here.

Faced with what felt like an endless stream of the most inane attempts at questioning (evidently Death City could only afford to place children barely out of high school in charge of law enforcement; he'd be insulted if it wasn't so absurd) his sense of time began to dull. Had two hours or two days of inquiries passed? Was it honestly going to take them longer than that to realise that he wasn't going to reward their efforts with any kind of response?

Evidently so. The door opened and he looked up and took a deep anticipatory breath -- which one was it going to be this time? -- and then released it in mild surprise. This one was new. And... Bubbly. His eyes narrowed slightly, fixing a scrutinising look on the unfamiliar woman with the stupid smile. He adjusted quickly. If this was some attempt to throw him off guard...

"I thought I'd told my secretary there in the entrance to cancel all my appointments for the day," he said in a tone like dry leaves. Well he was probably joking, even if the smile he gave his visitor was more politely inquiring than facetious. Polite, but not quite right.

[ooc: BAHAHA I hadn't thought of that... A++ timing there Zee. ):]

[fishnets]

Zatanna still was somewhere roaming about in the dark when it came to the specifications of what had happened. Having an idea wasn't the same as a run-down, but she could deal with it. A villain was a villain was a villain... except sometimes when they become an anti-hero or something. Plus, he looked a bit younger. The last she recalled of seeing him under the mask was that the Scarecrow was a little older than she was, perhaps early forties? And he looked a little younger. He was like the one she had seen before, but his facial features were different, less harsh.

She pulls a chair in front of the cell and plops into it, crossing her fishnet-clad legs. "Looks like you'll have to get a new secretary. She's not very good at her job. Buuuuuuut, since I'm here, guess you're stuck with me -- for now." He showed no sign of knowing who she was, but he was smart, wasn't he? Even if he looked different, it didn't mean a damn thing. "You know who I am, don't you? And why I'm here." It wasn't condescending or arrogant in the least; she genuinely expected him to know who she was, whether through fame or the JLA.

[ooc: fff HEY THAT NEW CHICK WHO HAS BEEN REALLY NICE TO EVERYONE AND WAS TALKING ABOUT HOW SHE'S SO FULL OF JUSTICE AND SHIT SAW HIM RIGHT BEFORE HE BROKE OUT. SHE WAS TRICKING US, TOO. ...nice job, Zee. You are brilliant beyond compare.]

[ornithophobia]

"Go on, make yourself at home," Crane said blandly even as the woman was already doing so. His stare in response to her question was equally bland, and he tilted his head as if the change in perspective would suddenly make the statement seem less obtuse. It was genuinely puzzling. If this was an act, minor disorientation was all that the tactic could hope to accomplish. Unless...

He gave her one quick glance-over (posture confident -- or cocky -- and... Fishnets?) and quickly came to a conclusion. Yes, this woman was a complete stranger. In every sense of the word.

"Assumedly you're here to throw me off balance long enough for the kids playing detective down the hall to try and pull some information out of me." If the woman could tell he was being flippant before, there certainly was no trace of that now. His smile and tone had suddenly chilled. "I think that much is obvious, but the jury's still out on your identity."

[ooc: ..."WE FOUND A WITCH, MAY WE BURN HER?"]

[fishnets]

Of course she didn't wait. As considerate as it would be, it would let him have the upper hand -- or at least be a lead-in to it -- and he was excellent at manipulating people, as most villains were.

"Sort of. Though I'd like to be of help to them, it's not really my concern." She responds with a little shrug. "I requested to see you, actually." Unintentionally, that made her sound like a fangirl. Zatanna keeps up the smile, her tone decidedly pleasant and sweet. "Zatanna Zatara, magician, superhero, and I've got a nice, big, spooky mansion in this city called Gotham." Shoulders raised for a little shrug. "Maybe you've heard of it." Even if it wasn't the same Crane, he most likely had come from Gotham City.

Zatanna removes her top hat and sets it on the floor beside her. "You know, you've always been interesting." And some others from Gotham, even. "If you're so brilliant, why is it you do such stupid things? Is it really worth it?" She didn't ask 'why' or why he did specifically what he did or if he had any plans or anything that a normal detective might. Zee wasn't even entirely sure what it was she was fishing for. Maybe just an admission that he was a moron?

[ooc: "BLAH BLAH BLAH VIRGIN AND BLACK FLAME CANDLE" o wait that is hocus pocus.]

[ornithophobia]

... Ah. Gaze having wandered in some boredom, at the magic word he quickly refocused back on the woman -- "Zatara," a pseudonym or the fault of cruel parents -- but his surprise was only momentary and slightly widened eyes were the only clue that Gotham meant anything to him. Think rationally, this is what you're good at. Had he ever mentioned Gotham at any point in time? For the sake of credibility he'd believed that any details of his life he divulged should be as close to the truth as possible without giving too much away, but something like this seemed too easily exploitable for him to have ever let slip. Especially not in a mixing bowl like this city.

How to handle this? If he'd been secretive or divulging, either way there was no point denying that he was from Gotham. Clearly the woman had some sort of information on him, may very well have come from the same place he did, but... Superhero?

Expression reserved, Crane shook his head. His hands played restlessly in his lap; he very much wanted to steeple his fingers thoughtfully (as if he really respected what Miss Zatara had to say) but there was no surface here to lean his elbows on. "You make some correct assumptions about me, but saying I do 'stupid things' isn't one of them." Well, until recently, at least. It wouldn't happen again. "It sounds like you've known me for some time, but I think I would have taken notice of a..." He dragged out the word and momentarily shifted his gaze to the top hat. He avoided the fishnets. "...Magician-come-superhero. Is this your idea of a convincing story?"

[fishnets]

He was in a jail cell and yet somehow still had all of his pride intact and managed to keep a condescending manner about him. Hilarious. What was it with villains and thinking they were better than everyone, especially when they were in no place to be calling the shots? Zee would stay pleasant for now, if only because she knew he wanted her to lose her cool, to give something away.

She puts a hand on her shoulder and rubs it, closing her eyes as if she is perfectly comfortable in his presence, like he doesn't intimidate her in the slightest. He's not a threat and she's making sure that he's well aware of it. "Dunno. Being as brilliant as you are and instead of making a point to do good, pulling a burlap sack over your head and calling yourself the Scarecrow -- just as convincing as a magician, right? -- is perfectly sane. Then again, you're the doctor, aren't you? I'm certainly not qualified to make any judgments." The mage looks forward, eyes fluttering open while hand still lightly massages her neck. Perhaps he was from an alternate universe, but this still made him her responsibility.

She would try to stay cool as long as possible. "Do you want me to give myself a neat name like Magewoman and say I was bitten by a radioactive rabbit or something? Sorry my origins are too boring for you." Thankfully, she didn't snicker. It was pretty funny to think about.

[ornithophobia]

"I said convincing, not puerile." Yep. Pride and condescension definitely intact. Luckily they were not quite so fragile as the rest of him.

Crane raised a brow at her display of nonchalance -- but more at the quip about doing good. Honestly, hadn't he made it clear enough that this city's constant attempts to categorise things as strictly good or evil were just trite? The not-so-subtly-disguised sarcasm was amusing but ineffective. Some other occasion, it may have earned another acidic remark but he'd play along here; intrusive and dull as it was, these meetings were his only chance to dig for information. This one could end up being a gold mine if she legitimately knew him (unlikely).

He rubbed his temples thoughtfully. First things first. "In any case, I don't know what those origins are. Where is it you're from? And--" he interrupted himself, lifting his hand again in anticipation of the response, "--I'm already sure it's not Gotham. Or my Gotham, rather. So please, elaborate."

[fishnets]

"What about it isn't convincing?" She fishes an ID and holds it out for him to take a look over. Zatanna Zatara. Female. Thumb over birth year, but she was born on February 19th. It's a California driver's license and the photo is surprisingly cute (or not, because she's gorgeous, of course). She keeps it close enough for him to look at just a little longer before pulling it away. "As for names, gotta say someone named 'Jonathan Crane,' and 'Scarecrow,' are up there with the lame ones." Crazy Quite and Scarecrow, BFFs. Definitely.

Sorry, she didn't have any discussion at great length with any of the people here, not that it would matter to her. Zatanna often would tread a very thin line and her way of thinking... wasn't exactly the ideal for a JLA member. 'Good,' perhaps, but certainly not Superman-good.

"Gotham City's in New Jersey. Most people don't like to stay there for long. I'm one of them." She sparkles a little, as if she just stuck it to 'em ('em, being him -- and also 'the man'). "I've got a place there, but in case you didn't see the license," she flashes it again, "I live in California. Sometimes." When not on the road. "Nice of you to lead the conversation, by the way." Ha, gotcha, bitch!

I DON'T ACTUALLY KNOW WHERE NOLANVERSE GOTHAM IS... :Ib

[ornithophobia]

"Conversation," he repeated. He didn't elaborate on the flat statement, but his meaning was clear -- this wasn't a conversation, this was his opportunity to question now. He could start by deigning not to comment on the woman's snipe at his name of all things (though he couldn't hold back a slight narrowing of the eyes.) And he could proceed by resisting the urge to take a jab at her too (this urge was easier to contain.)

"Fascinating." It wasn't. "And it's hard to believe your story when there's no such thing as a superhero. Only in... Comics books. Big budget Hollywood trash." That's unless she was being overzealous in her introduction which was seeming more and more likely the longer she continued the bubbly act.

Well, not quite true. The thought got its hooks in him, and he didn't quite smile -- you'd be hard pressed to call the minute upturn at the corners of his mouth a smile but there was a definite reminiscent edge to his voice. He couldn't help it. Not when he was talking about this. "So then you're aware of the, ah, bat problem?"

IT'S ALWAYS NJ. still GOTCHA BITCH.

[fishnets]

She'd let him. For now. If only because she doubted she really could get him to talk. She was about seven inches too short and hundred pounds (plus eighty or so of kevlar) too little to get a rise out of him.

She kept smiling, though. Keep on smiling, Zee.

"Says the supervillain." She responds, keeping up with him, but still allowing him to lead. That was the thing about supervillains -- no matter how secretive they would try to be, they loved to talk. Especially if in a roundabout way it was about them.

There we go. Bat. That's all she needed. "Batman, you mean?" She'd almost said 'Bruce,' almost. "But you're trying to play coy, so he 'doesn't exist,' right?"

BUT NJ IS SO UGL-- ohhhh...

[ornithophobia]

That was that. He'd certainly never mentioned the vigilante by name (even if he couldn't help but make reference to him on occasion); these were details the woman could only know if she was from the same

"I'm not a superv--" Nevermind. He cut himself off again with a dismissive wave of the hand. Stupid. He could argue the point later if he wanted -- what was important now was seeing how much damage control he'd have to do with this woman once he got out. If she knew so much about him -- even something as small as his modus -- things could get difficult, fast. And if this meeting was any evidence, she had every intention of meddling in his affairs. How much did she know about him was the question?

His smile widened by about a millimetre. Now who was sounding like a fangirlboy? Despite himself, Crane couldn't help sounding more animated speaking about the Batman -- not that that was saying much. "Superheroes are fictional. He's just a particularly extraordinary man with a dangerous nest of neuroses. Nothing more."

Not strictly true... But he certainly wasn't idiotic enough to divulge what he really thought of the only thing that could make him feel the same way he made others feel. Even if she knew about Gotham and its resident maniac vigilante, there was no way this Zatanna woman would know that much about him.

DOES IT CONNECT NOW? AT ALL? DING, DING? BELLS AND SIRENS.

[fishnets]

There was a certain satisfaction she derived from catching his attention, even if it was the same, old, tired thing as always.

All the villains on the East Coast were gay for Batman. It was just a fact.

Zatanna could honestly argue with him all night about how yes, yes he is a villain, but that would be like talking to a TV. You could say whatever you want and it might reply, but it would never make any sense. (Except in his case it just might, but giving him the advantage of even considering that was a no-go.)

"And a bunch of fun little gadgets and an awesome vehicle, right? Just a 'vigilante' in a really nifty costume. And if you aren't a supervillain, that would make you just a lame little terrorist, wouldn't it?" Elbows on her knees, she puts her chin in her hands in leans forward ever-so slightly with that same cheerful smile. "And there's nothing more cowardice than a terrorist, wouldn't you agree? But you aren't. And he's not just an extraordinary man, though he is that, as well." Not even in past tense. Nice, Zee.

WELL SEE IT WAS FILMED IN CHICAGO BUT IT'S ON THE OCEAN SO IT WAS WEIRD... haha, ding "dong."

[ornithophobia]

"What it would make me is..." Crane pursed his lips and let the sentence go unfinished. Time to shift the focus away from him -- rebutting her name-calling was getting wearisome.

He leaned back in reciprocation to Zatanna's slight advance to ensure his personal bubble remained intact. The smile had fallen to be replaced with a coolly calculating stare like an x-ray, as if he could see right through her if he tried hard enough. "I'll play along and pretend that appropriating terms like "superhero" and "villain" to real, normal people isn't the most ridiculous thing I've heard all morning." To be more accurate, big, spooky mansion in Gotham was. Property values were impossible. Anyway.

"...So that being said, what is it you do? Being a superhero and all." Pleasant again, in proportion to his irony. "Save babies from burning buildings, perhaps? Apprehend jaywalkers?"