Great fear

[crusaderinacape]

He sits wearily at the supercomputer. Bathed in the incandescent glow of a dozen plasma screens. Upon each is a haunting visage, chalk white, green hair. A wicked grin splits the face in two as if it had been ripped at the seams.

Bruce Wayne, his head hung low, remains ignorant of the wound scored by a serrated blade some three hours earlier as his

Comments

[phear_itself]

Professor Crane has been in the hospital for months now, ever since he was shot by Detective Chandler. He only woke up a few weeks ago, having lingered in a coma for months.

They came to him last week to see if he could help them discover who kidnapped Chandler. He knew who it was immediately, of course... That was obvious to anyone with any kind of psychological background. But he toyed with Montoya for a time... playing with her, drawing her along, before he gave her the clues she wanted. It's so boring in this hospital bed, after all. One must take one's entertainment where one can.

So it is that he's resting here, looking out on this unseasonal early morning thunderstorm, considering how he can escape from this intermitable prison -- after all, they wish to send him back to Arkham. And he does not belong in Arkham... that location, after all, is for the insane. And Crane knows that, while he is many things, he is not insane. He is a scientist.

And that's when the beam of yellow comes through the window.

//Jonathan Crane of

[crusaderinacape]

Vanish into thin air no doubt. There's a shadowy spot on the ward where seconds ago Batman had stood.