(Untitled)

[is_fear_itself]

Jon Crane's left his costume behind for a change, and he's sipping a cup of tea, a book open on his lap and a tape recorder balanced precariously on the arm of the chair he's staked out as his own. He marks his place in the book and looks up to ask his question.

"Do you believe in the thin line between love and hate?"

A why or why not is

Comments

[tastes_of_honey]

There have been people in my life I've hated to love, so I say hell yeah.

[is_fear_itself]

And loved to hate, I hope.

[tastes_of_honey]

I always love to hate. It gives me such a warm feeling inside.

There's definitely a thin line between love and hate, because I've pushed lots of people over it.

[is_fear_itself]

Yes, I suppose there's nothing quite like it.

[laughs] Oh, wonderful. Make it a hobby, do you.

[ridi_arlecchino]

"What's hate but love with some friction..." Harley speaks the words slowly, mulling them over as they come out. They were never hers, and it's almost strange to hear them again after so long. She frowns a little, bringing herself back to when the Joker had first told her that. She remembers how much she hated feeling like he was right at the time. Even more than she had hated the way he tripped her and sent her flying off that rooftop right after.

She sits on a spot of floor, legs-crossed, unaware of how very tightly she's squeezing the neck of the stuffed jester doll in her lap.

[is_fear_itself]

"..ah." Now Crane's looking like he really regrets asking the question, and he quickly and furtively moves to turn off the tape recorder. He really has no interest in trying to pick her brains apart.

"Yours is a singular case." He supplies weakly, setting the cup down and standing to wander over to her. Crane crouches, takes note of the doll abuse almost with pleasure. "I'm not sure he understands what either of them are."

[ridi_arlecchino]

Harley watches him as he walks over and crouches down. "Y'think so?" Her grip tightens. "But he does feel them. He's gotta." She moves her eyes from Crane back to the doll, jumping a little at the realization that she's been wringing its neck. With a nervous little noise, she suddenly moves her hands and pats it, as if trying to make a show of amends with the object. "It's not his fault... is it?" She looks at up Crane, genuinely unsure what to think herself at just this moment.

[is_fear_itself]

"Do you really believe--..." He stops, as it's coming out harsher than he intended. Even out of costume, all he really knows how to do is attack problems that he doesn't like, and that's no good here.

"Never mind that. Believe what you like, the wretch won't ever use his assets advantageously anyway." Maybe somewhere dimly he realizes that isn't the right way to approach the situation, and he muses for a moment on how he might do it better. "If you're asking me about lucidity and proper judgment, I think he knows exactly what he's doing all the time. Just like the Bat. --but we don't have to discuss this if you'd rather not."