#the scarecrow ones gave me the hardest time for no reason

[loserunpunny]

[shyuwe]

How are we feeling about titans s3's jason after that last episode (lazarus)?

Oh man I'm so glad someone asked me about this!! I've been trying my hardest to not convert into a Titans blog, but since there was an ask...

The episode was everything that it said it would be and it delivered in putting perspective to the motive behind Jason's actions. Of course, I don't think he'll be fully redeemed anytime soon (I'm hoping that they drag his time as a villain out a bit actually! we're desperately in need of more crime lord Jason haha), and that's probably what the showrunners were going for. Not a full redemption, but an explanation as to why and how he's become so twisted. It's showing justification without justifying him, you know? I have mixed feelings about it, which I'll go into later, but there was something I thought the show got right.

I absolutely loved how the show portrayed Bruce and Jason in this episode, probably more than how the comics do it haha. They're both incredibly stubborn and broken men who have no idea how to talk to each other. You can always sympathize with both of their perspectives (Bruce desperately trying to keep his son from danger, and Jason only seeing it as betrayal due to his past). It never antagonizes either, and yet we know that they're both in the wrong.

I do feel a bit cheated though, knowing it was Scarecrow who gave Jason the hood. Of course I know why they did this since "ohh he went pit mad ahha..." does not at ALL excuse what he did and having someone as criminally insane as Crane basically groom him is a much more plausible plotline. Still, there's just something compelling about Jason putting on the hood to avenge himself! In Titans, there's just no vengeance or betrayal behind that mask, no "why did you choose him over me"s.

Lazarus was a great episode if you wanted to understand the why behind Titans Red Hood, but a terrible one if you wanted something more concrete to base his crimes in. It wasn't at all like in Arkham Knight, where there was a clear reason to why Jason took the path he did. Personally, I'm still torn on which side I'm on. It's really hard for me to look at Jason objectively (for obvious reasons) so of course I'm not 100% satisfied with how it turned out. I love villain Jason a lot and the original UTRH is my favourite interpretation of him to date, but I do think that in order to write him like that, you need more than just a "why".

Bringing up Arkham Knight again, I loved him in that of course there's a clear reason for his turn, but there's more than that--there's a sharp vengeance and sense of retribution that somehow makes us root for him, you know? It's the same for comics Jason. I wanted to see the Knight kill Bruce, I wanted Red Hood to shoot the Joker because they goddamn deserved it after all the pain they went through! Titans Jason on the other hand falls a bit short. He's suffered just as much as the other two, but his cause, his drive is just so damn ambiguous! He has the "why" but...why wage this war in the first place? Is Scarecrow the only reason Jason has to doing any of this? So yes, I have mixed feelings about this episode. Honestly I'm starting to think that the episode delivered it's promise and I was the one who wanted more from it haha.

In the end, I don't think I'll ever prefer this version of his character to his comic counterpart, but that was a given from the beginning really. It's a great adaptation, but its just that; an adaptation. Nothing will ever come close to the pure joy I got from reading UTRH for the first time.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Satisfied, Part 51

First

Previous

Next

~~~

She rested her head back against the wall -- a mistake, there was now water streaming down her face, but one she had accepted. “Hey, Riddler, what happened to your whole ‘we’re not killing kids’ thing?”

“Sorry, kids, but you’re both 18! Fair game!”

She rolled her eyes. “You just called us kids.”

There was a short silence, then Riddler mumbled something that sounded like it might have been ‘shut up.’

Damian worked at attempting to break his bindings with his rock. It was apparently much harder than you’d see in movies, because he was making seemingly no progress.

“Y’know this is a really boring puzzle!” She yelled.

She felt a hand smack her leg and cursed, drawing her knees to her chest and glaring at Damian.

“Can you not taunt the guy who’s trying to kill us?”

“What’s he gonna do? Try and kill us harder?”

“Yes! We at least have a chance of escaping right now!”

She rolled her eyes.

For a while, all that they could hear was the steady stream of water, the clanking of their manacles, and the sharp sound of rock striking metal.

And then Damian managed to pull himself free. He stared at his broken chains for a second, apparently just as shocked as Marinette was that he’d managed to get that to work, and then went to breaking Marinette’s bindings.

This would have been all well and good if the water wasn’t already creeping up her neck.

She sat up as straight as she could, but it wouldn’t be good for long. Even if it would be, she didn’t know how long she could hold the position. The cold water made her muscles ache from the strain of even keeping her neck up.

She bit the inside of her cheek…

She interlocked her fingers in front of her and held them out to him.

He raised his eyebrows slightly.

“I’ll help you vault up. Get out and beat him up for me, will you?”

He gave a quiet sigh of annoyance and continued to try his hardest to break at least one chain on her wrist. “Shut up. I’m not leaving you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Dami…”

“Nope! Shut up!”

She didn’t know what to do. She had no clue and she hated it. There definitely wasn’t a way for both of them to get out, there was no way Damian could break her chains in time. She could tell he knew that, could see it in the frantic way he struck the metal, but then why wouldn’t he stop? The water wouldn’t reach the top, and the walls were too slick to climb. He needed to vault up soon, while she still had enough energy to give him a boost.

He needed to get out while he still could.

She caught his hand on his next strike and held him there. “Dami… please, you have to get out, okay?” She whispered.

He sighed and looked at the rock in his hands, then his eyes widened slightly. He dropped the rock.

“The hell? That worked --?” She began, but then he shoved his hand in her face. She raised her eyebrows. “Nice?”

“Look closer.”

She snickered and glanced it over, then her eyes snapped back to his fingers.

To the industrial steel ring.

She cursed.

He leaned over her and pressed a hand to her chains. “Cataclysm.”

The illusion crumbled to dust around them.

The warm air brought her to her senses in a flash of pain as her body attempted to adapt. She curled inward on herself instinctively, screwing her eyes shut. She reached out and tapped the nearest surface twice. She could hear movement beside her but it took a moment for her to get over the feeling of her skin cracking from the sudden change.

She pried her eyes open and cringed at the Wayne Manor guest room they were in. She was laying on a bed, it seemed. Damian was next to her, though he was quickly getting up. In the corner was a very concerned and confused Riddler.

Marinette managed to pull herself together. Her hands went to her utility belt and she cursed. Empty.

Great, so Riddler had the horse and fox miraculous.

She doubted he would have found much use for the horse miraculous, though him having it was problematic for some of her future plans.

But the fox miraculous…

Well, he’d already shown what he’d wanted to do. The idea of him being able to make insane death traps (because, ultimately, any damage someone took in an illusion transferred over) without any need to ground it in reality? To make them without a paper trail for them all to follow? To be able to hide his victims in plain sight? It was terrifying, and she wasn’t about to just let him have it.

She held her hands up placatingly as Riddler’s hands went to his flute. 

“I don’t want to fight!” The two men looked at her and she gave a somewhat sheepish smile. “Seriously, I don’t. I want to make a deal.”

Ultimately, it was far safer that way. The fox miraculous was a tricky one to deal with, she didn’t want to have to directly engage with it if she could get around it.

She and Damian exchanged looks. He sent her a wary look and she rolled her eyes. After they glared at each other for a bit he finally stepped out of the room, shutting it behind him. She relaxed slightly and slowly scooted her way to the end of the bed.

“Cards?” She asked, giving a bright smile.

His eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he nodded. He took a seat a safe distance away, setting his flute down in his lap in case. She pulled out her yoyo and summoned a deck. She let him shuffle and deal.

“How’d you know? Was the ring the wrong color or something?” Asked Riddler as he handed over half of the deck.

She gave a smile and they started playing war. “Give us the miraculi and I’ll tell you.”

“No.”

Marinette shrugged. Fair enough. She would have been stunned if that actually worked. She bit the inside of her cheek.

“Right, what do you want?”

She nodded slightly. “I want the miraculi back and to have your word that you won’t tell the Rogues my identity.”

“And I get…?”

“I’ll help you get an insanity plea.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “I’m not insane.”

“Sure, you aren’t,” she said in a gentle tone. “But I’m sure you could find some use for it.”

She let his mind wander to what it would mean. Even if she had no intention of getting him or any of the other Rogues into Arkham (they seemed utterly incompetent and there had to be other asylums around), she let him think that she would. She wasn’t directly lying, really. Just giving minimal information and allowing them to draw incorrect conclusions.

He sighed. “I. De. Clare. War.”

“I. De. Clare. War.” She collected her winnings and looked up at him. “So, what do you think?”

“Why would you help me out like that?”

“A lot of reasons, really, but mostly because I care about you and the other Rogues.”

His hands paused and, after a moment’s thought, he nodded. “Fine. But if you don’t do the insanity plea…”

“You have the right to tell the entire world my identity, I’ll get you a press conference myself.”

He stared her down for a few moments, probably trying to gauge her truthfulness, and then he nodded and slowly handed over the miraculi.

She breathed a sigh of relief and put them away. She tossed her Lucky Charm up and watched it disintegrate. “Right, I’m going to have to make it look like I beat you.”

“Of course.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled, wrapping him in her yoyo and pulling him out the door.

Damian raised his eyebrows. “It worked?”

She grinned. “Obviously. I’m a genius. Also, geniuses don’t have to carry Rogues, so… good luck!”

She handed off the yoyo to Damian before he could react and jumped out the nearest window.

She brushed some stray leaves out of her hair (she’d fallen straight into a hedge, ow) and made her way into the courtyard.

She felt herself relax a little when she saw that everything seemed to be alright. There wasn’t any blood, so no one had died in her absence, and she could see all the Rogues tied up by a fountain. Great.

The bats were circling the Rogues carefully, making sure no one escaped. As she looked closer, though, she could see their stress in the tenseness of their shoulders.

The first person to spot them was Dick, who ran forward and wrapped her in a tight hug.

“Euh…?” She murmured, giving him a short pat on the back. “What’s with all the hugging?”

“You were gone for three hours! What the hell?! We thought you died!”

She felt the blood leave her face. She didn’t even know that was a real thing, she thought that was just something you read about in books, but she’d managed it. The world around her felt cold.

3 hours…?

She forced an awkward laugh and pulled away. “Yeah, we were just dealing with one of Riddler’s traps. He’s annoying. Damian’s bringing him down the regular way.”

Dick nodded slightly, then a frown came over his face. “Wait, Riddler?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Yeah…? That’s… what I said?” She said slowly.

“Not Joker?”

“No, obviously not… why?”

He sighed and pointed at the Rogue pile. Marinette raised her eyebrows slightly, glancing over the faces.

Harley Scarecrow, Poison Ivy, Catwoman, Penguin… And Riddler on the way…

But no Joker.

~~~

*frantically googling how to write a climax* *it doesn’t help at all* *struggling author sounds*

~

I don’t get why writers these days are so obsessed with subverting expectations. People guessing what’s happening feels great. Like, yesssss all that work foreshadowing wasn’t for nothing

~

Taglist

@comet-kun @thatonecroc @trippingovermyfeet @swiftie-miraculer13 @nickristus-dreamer @moongoddesskiana @i-am-ironic @indecisive-mess-named-me @thebooki3h @insane-fangirl-of-everything @deepestobservationwombat @theymakeupfairies @fatimaabbasrizvi @clumsy-owl-4178 @fanofalittletoomuch @iamablinkmarvelarmy @nathleigh @lilkymilky @silvergold-swirl @dino-lovingreen-angel @thestressmademedoit @kissa-chan @ladybug-182 @alysrose-starchild @t1dwarrior-of-earth @spyofthenightcourt @rowanrouge @nik-nak-3 @momothefemur @aestheticnpoetic @labschaos @our-preciousss @mochinek0 @eliza-bich @mythogaychic @severelyenchantedwonderland @sashakoi @smolplantmum @bluesimani @tropestropestropes @kitsunebell @keepingupwiththemalfoys @sassakitty @2confused-2doanything @too0bsessedformyowngood @all-mights-asscheeks @demonicbusiness @meg-an-ace @fantasiame @qualitypeacepainter @multplelifes @kokotaru @spicybelladonna @ultimatetornshipper

<3

[ghostspideys-moved]

We’ll Have Tomorrow

Chapter Seven

A/N: We’re getting into those good Christmas and Hanukkah vibes.

Word Count: 2.6k

Pairing: Steve Harrington x OC, Jonathan x Nancy x OC (eventually)

Summary: Christmas is right around the corner, and that means it’s time for the Christmas party Steve’s parents decided to throw. Hopefully they can avoid noisy adults.

Christmas was less than five days away now. Nearly three days away to be precise. Which meant River was now stuck going to a Christmas party with Steve. She wasn't much of a party person, but, if she remembered correctly, it was mostly going to be adults. Probably friends or colleagues of his parents. 

Steve had been the one to open the door and let her in. Of course her first thought was about how huge his house was. She'd known his parents had a good amount of money, but she'd never been in a house this big before. 

He must have noticed her awestruck expression as she glanced at all the art hanging in the walls, because he laughed. 

River snapped out of her reverie and followed him up to his room. Even from here, she could hear the faint him of socializing downstairs, but it was barely noticeable. Besides, she had a bigger concern right now. 

Steve's room was hideous.

"Not to, like, insult you or anything, but what the fuck?" The wallpaper was a strange plaid pattern almost, and the curtains matched almost perfectly. It was horrible, and she was having a hard time focusing on anything but that.

"What?" Steve asked, still not catching on.

Rive snorted. "Steve, please never become an interior decorator," she pleaded.

Steve rolled his eyes and fell back on his bed. "Shut up. This is the one thing in this house I have control over."

"Then it's even worse than I thought." She laughed and took off her jacket, setting it on his desk chair. 

Admittedly, it felt a little awkward being in his room, especially given the fact that just a few days ago, she still hated him. Maybe hate was a strong word, but she hadn't liked him at all, that was for sure.

Steve probably sensed her apprehension and scooted over. "Don't worry, Matthews. I won't bite," he joked.

River rolled her eyes and hesitated before sitting next to him. She wasn’t really sure what it was, but being in his room felt weird. Because of her dad’s rules, she’d barely even interacted with a guy outside of school, so this was a first. It wasn’t bad or anything, she just didn’t really know what people did in this sort of situation.

Luckily, Steve was a lot less awkward than she was, because he seemed to have a better idea of what to do than she did.

“How about we play a game?” he asked.

Of course, River was instantly curious as to where this was going. “Uh, sure.”

He sat up a little, a huge grin on his face. By now, she’d become accustomed to feeling worried when he had that look on his face.

“Okay, we’re going to play 20 questions, which is exactly what it sounds like. I’ll ask you a question, and you have to answer truthfully. Then you ask me something, and we keep going until we hit 20 of them each,” Steve explained.

“And any question goes?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

River thought it sounded innocent enough. She nodded and let him start off with a simple question.

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Purple,” she said without hesitation. She thought for a second before asking, “Favorite movie?”

“Star Wars.”

“Which one?’

Admittedly, he hadn’t known there was more than one, but rather than owning up to that, he said, “Nope. That’s two questions, missy.”

River laughed and rolled her eyes as she let him ask his next question.

“What’s your middle name?”

“Which one?”

“Hm. American one.”

“Gwendolyn.” 

Steve was secretly hoping it’d be something a lot more embarrassing from what she could tell. 

River leaned back on her palms, chewing her lip as she thought. “Okay, what’s your biggest fear?” she asked.

Steve laughed and gave her a shocked look. “Already asking the deep questions, I see.” He paused as he seemed to be seriously considering the question. “I’ve always been pretty scared of scarecrows since I was a kid,” he admitted.

It wasn’t the answer she was expecting, but maybe that was what made it all the funnier to her. “Scarecrows?”

“Yeah. I mean, not really anymore, but they creeped me the fuck out as a kid.”

River snorted and shook her head. “Well then that doesn’t count,” she said. “What’s your biggest fear now?”

“Woah, who says it doesn’t count?”

“I do, Harrington. Now answer the question.”

Steve sighed and thought again, this time really wracking his brain for a more truthful answer. Not that he’d been lying, but he felt like that wasn’t the full truth.

“Well, if you want me to get deep or something, I guess I’m afraid that I’ll end up alone,” he said. 

Somehow, that threw her off even more than the last answer. River didn’t really think he got insecure about those things, but she supposed it happened to the best of people. 

“Dude, you’re Steve Harrington. Do you know how many girls I’ve seen swooning over you over the years?” She’d never really understood it, but at least it was the truth. Even now, when he was a lot better than just last year, she still didn’t quite know what the big fuss was.

Steve scoffed and propped himself on his elbow, turning to face her. “Things have changed for me since last year. I’m not nearly as popular as I used to be.”

She never really understood why that was so important. “So what?”

Seeing the incredulous look on his face was enough to make her laugh, which only made him roll his eyes. “What do you mean ‘so what?’ My life has been in shambles since.”

“Not really. You have friends, Harrington.” “Yeah, a bunch of twelve-year olds.”

River sighed and shook her head. Not quite what she meant, but that was her point. “Yeah, but you like them,” she said. “If you didn’t I don’t think you would have really risked your life to save them.”

“Or maybe I’m just that good,” Steve insisted. 

“Harrington, you literally almost died to save Dustin.” And her, but that wasn’t her point, so she didn’t add that in. “I may not know you too well, but I think that’s about as close to a declaration of friendship as it comes for you.”

Steve ran his fingers through his hair, thinking over what she said. River could tell he knew she was right, but whether he admitted that was a whole other question. 

“Alright, if we’re getting deep all of a sudden, I get to pry into your head a little.”

She thought that certainly seemed fair enough. Though she wasn’t sure how truthful she’d be depending on where this next question went.

He sat up now, a much more serious look on his face. “You’re like that girl...El? So, then you had to be trapped in the lab for some time, right?”

There weren’t many ways to avoid answering this one. On the one hand, she could probably lie or downplay the whole thing, but she doubted he’d buy that. If she’d learned anything, it was that Steve wasn’t stupid by any means. He wasn’t always the brightest at times, sure, but he wasn’t dumb at all, and he would never buy it if she tried to be anything but truthful.

“Well, yeah.” River shrugged and flopped back on the bed, refusing to meet his gaze just yet. “I mean, ever since I was ten. And then my brother and I...we escaped about three years after that.”

Steve seemed surprised to hear that. He nodded and gestured for her to go on.

“Um, I’m pretty sure the only reason we didn’t get caught was because my dad was trying his hardest to keep us from the scientists,” she added. “I think after not finding us for so long, they gave up searching.” That’s what she’d always assumed anyways. “That was like five years ago, so I don’t see why they wouldn’t just give up.” He nodded, still absorbing all of the information. River was just grateful he hadn’t pushed her for more. She was surprised she’d even shared that much. Then again, he’d already seen the number on her arm when she’d showed them. And he was probably just as trustworthy as the rest of the kids.

“Can I see it again?” he asked suddenly. “Your arm?”

River hesitated for a moment before pulling up her sleeve and showing him once more.

“Holy shit.” Of course, Steve had already seen it before, but that didn’t mean it didn’t still shock him. After all, he was still wrapping his head around everything Dustin told him about El.

River nodded and pulled her sleeve back down after a moment. Before he could even think to ask anything else, his mom called them down for dinner.

~

Dinner went surprisingly well. Of course, Steve and River mostly just talked to each other, not wanting to have to interact with a bunch of nosy adults. In fact, any time an adult talked to them, they seemed to think she was his girlfriend, which she thought was absurd. Of course, Steve shut that thought down quickly, not wanting her to be uncomfortable. After all, he’d really just invited her over as a friend, not wanting to be alone. 

The rest of the night, they stuck to his room, avoiding the loud group of people downstairs. 

At some point, Steve even started playing some Christmas music. And at first, she wasn’t sure if it was on purpose or not, but he was singing so badly. But eventually, they sat back on his bed, relaxing and simply enjoying each other’s company. That was when she heard him singing quietly to himself, and it sounded beyond amazing.

River didn't want to say anything in case he stopped, so she was silent as she listened to him sing. Faintly, she could hear everyone downstairs, and the radio on Steve’s desk was playing quietly by now. Something about it all was soothing. This was probably the most calm she’d been in a long time, and she was trying to enjoy every second of it.

Once it was getting late, Steve drove her home so Hopper wouldn’t get worried. The flurries of snowflakes blew in the harsh breeze, making it nearly impossible to see. Maybe not the best time to be driving, but they’d certainly been in worse situations. 

Conversation was light through the whole drive, but still enjoyable. By the time they rolled into the driveway, they were both silent until Steve turned to her.

“I know we had to deal with nosy adults, but I hope you had fun,” he said. 

River smiled brightly and nodded. It hadn’t been so bad, really. And, in all honesty, she’d had more fun than she’d had in a long time. Maybe ever. 

“Yeah, I definitely did,” she responded. “Then again, I have some pretty low standards.”

Steve laughed, looking forward again as the porch light turned on, meaning Hopper was definitely up. And more than likely, he was waiting for her to come in.

River paused for a moment, her mind racing as she considered asking him something. “Christmas is coming up. Obviously.” Only five days and it would finally be here. “You don’t really like being home, so I was wondering if you wanted to spend the day with us.”

Before he could respond and possibly shoot her down, she backtracked, fumbling over her words for a moment. “I mean, I know El would get a kick out of that. She loves you so far, and I think Hopper wouldn’t say it, but he likes you, too.”

Steve laughed at how awkward she was being. She wasn’t trying to be weird about it, but the last thing she wanted was for him to think this was her flirting or something of that sort. Really, she just wanted him to have a decent Christmas, and if that meant escaping his parents, she was glad to offer an alternative.

“Yeah, I think I’ll take you up on that.” He grinned. For some reason, one she didn’t fully understand, it made her sigh in relief, feeling as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

“Good. I’ll, uh, tell Hop to expect you,” she said. “Goodnight, Harrington.”

He waved and said goodbye as she got out of the car and trekked up to the porch, quickly getting herself out of the cold.

Inside, River pulled off her boots and set them by the door so she wouldn’t track snow inside. She’d done that many times before, mostly because she forgot simple things like that every now and then.

As expected, Hopper was up, sitting in his chair while the TV played quietly, a beer in his hand. From what she could tell, Hawthorne and El must already be asleep, or at the very least in their rooms.

As soon as Hopper noticed she was home, he turned as she was walking over to join him. He let her settle on the couch before asking her anything.

“How’d your date with Harrington go?” he questioned, taking another swig of his beer. 

River rolled her eyes and glanced at the TV. “It was not a date, for starters.” He only seemed to laugh at her insistence. “And second of all, it went pretty well, actually.”

“Glad to hear it,” he said. “I sure hope he didn’t think it was a date.”

She groaned, partially embarrassed by this line of questioning. “No, not as far as I could tell. You know, I can just be friends with him, right?”

“I’m not saying you can’t, but I am saying I know how boys are.”

The whole night, she hadn’t really picked up on anything like that from Steve. He really just seemed relieved to have some actual company, which she could totally understand. 

“Steve’s changed a lot, and it continues to surprise me,” River admitted. “And trust me, if he hadn’t I don’t think I would have agreed to go. So I don’t really think anything you’re thinking of was on his mind. And I should know.”

Maybe she was still learning, but she could control her powers well enough to hear anything Steve might have been thinking. Of course, there was a certain line of privacy she never wanted to cross, so she wouldn’t have pried.

“Yeah, I know, kiddo. He’s not as bad as I expected, either.” She could tell he really meant it, and she had to agree. Steve was oddly full of surprises, and she had a feeling he wasn’t going to stop surprising her any time soon. 

River stayed in the living room for a while. She tried to relax, either of them really saying much. It was a comfortable silence, though. Neither of them needed to say much right now, so they didn’t. 

Eventually, she was growing tired, and her eyelids were growing heavy. 

Hopper pulled himself out of the chair and turned the Tv off. He ruffled her hair, a slight smile on his face. “Get some sleep, kid.”

River nodded and slowly got up, stretching her arms and legs, before dragging herself to bed. Sometimes, it was hard for her to fall asleep, but this was not one of those times. Over the last few weeks, she often found herself lying awake late at night, unable to do anything but think. 

Her life was much better than it had been not long ago, but it was hard for her to really accept that. She was afraid she’d let her guard down, and the illusion of security would break. All of this might suddenly vanish, like a beautiful dream that she would never remember if she woke up. It might slip away from her forever.

Thankfully, she felt a lot less worried this time, and as soon as her head hit the pillow, she was out like a light. She couldn’t even remember having a nightmare, which was the first time she could think of that happening in a long time.

Taglist: @bravest-at-heart​ @musicalytrashpanda​ @queenofthehairharrington​

[fear-and-control]

Crane was stressed. That much Crowne could tell just by looking at him as he pushed open the hangar doors. There was a familiar slump to his narrow shoulders, as if he bore an invisible but heavy load, and though she couldn't quite make out his eyes behind the crooked frame of his glasses, the bags beneath them were apparent. He hadn't been sleeping again. Not that it came as much of a surprise, especially to her, but it didn't bode well. It was the grimace that sent up red flags, though- the ever so subtle working of his jaw that she had came to recognize over the years. Crane was overworked, and, from the look on his face, he was going to take it out on someone.

Not that Crowne was in a particularly good mood, either. When Crane was overworked, she was overworked. Never mind that it had only been two nights since she had gotten piss drunk with Crane at The Jackal's Den, or that she and Mary had sat Boston down just a few hours ago to have the hardest conversation of her entire life. She'd had errands to run, loan requests to file for that would undoubtably be denied, hospital bills to juggle for hopeless hours on end, Christmas presents to worry about, groceries to steal, medications to pick up at 2 AM... Not to mention that it had been two months since they'd made rent, and she hadn't gotten more than four hours of sleep in as many days. Needless to say, Tracy Crowne was stressed.

"Stone."

But there were more pressing matters to attend to at the moment.

Stone bolted up from her chair, throwing down the cards in her hand as she did so and snapping to attention. Jackal, Hyne, Clyde, and Crowne followed suit. All pushing away from the rickety folding table they'd been playing euchre at for the past ten minutes, they turned on a dime to face Crane as he stomped into the room. Another red flag- Crane usually carried himself with a certain grace. It wasn't good when it fell. Either something bad had happened, or that wasn't Crane at all. Crowne wasn't sure which option she preferred.

Evidently, the same thought had occurred to Liza Stone. She ghosted an apprehensive finger across the wicked scar running the span of her face as Crane drew nearer, but retained that same nonchalant stoicism that Crowne had come to both respect and resent.

"Yeah, boss?" Stone asked, stuffing her hands into her coat pockets and leaning back against the table. Crowne wasn't buying her act- too stiff, and her eyes were darting around much too frequently. And if Crowne could see through it, she didn't doubt Crane could as well.

"I gave ya one simple job, did I not?" Crane asked, and there was an edge to his voice that instantly put Crowne on alert, even if he wasn't addressing her. She and Stone shared a brief glance, in which they agreed that this was, indeed, not Scarecrow, but Crane...and that it didn't really make much of a difference.

"Well, I mean, I wouldn't exactly call it simple, but-" Stone began, grinning sheepishly.

"What did I ask ya t' do, Stone?" Crane interrupted.

Oh, she was so fucked.

"...I was supposed to make sure all the test subjects stayed put...sir," Stone said.

"And d'ya know what I found when I went down t' the lab jus' now?" Crane asked.

For a moment, Crowne almost felt bad for her. Almost. Of course, she quickly recalled all the extremely lewd rumors Stone was so fond of circulating regarding her relationship to Crane. And suddenly, the moment had passed. Funniest thing.

"I mean, I could probably guess," Stone said, laughing nervously.

"One of the experimental group members is gone, Stone," Crane snapped, glaring down at her. "Care to explain how that happened?"

"Well, I mean-" Stone stammered, taking a reflexive step away from Crane.

"She was probably playing Fortnite again," Jackal said.

Stone wheeled on him with a vengeance. "Do you ever shut the fuck up, dumbass?"

The look Crane gave her would have frozen beer. "Whatever it was, you're gonna fix it now."

Stone opened her mouth, and for a moment Crowne thought she was going to argue, but evidently she thought better of it. "Which one got away?"

"Jacob Smith. African-American man, somewhere in his early thirties."

"Oh, the hot one?"

Crowne was very glad that she wasn't the only one who laughed. She at least had the sensibility to try and turn hers into a cough, however.

Crane sighed explosively, pinching the bridge of his nose. "If that's how ya recognize him, then yes. The hot one." Clearing his throat, he fixed Stone with a pointed look. "I don't wanna see ya until he's taken care of. I can't have 'im tippin' off the GCPD. Find him."

"By 'taken care of,' do you mean-" Stone began.

"Do whatever ya deem necessary. Just make sure he's not talkin'. And don't disappoint me again."

Stone bit her lip, no doubt in an attempt to hide the beginnings of a smile. "Yes-sir."

The look on her face was enough to turn Crowne's stomach as she watched her grab her gun and dart out the door. There were plenty of reasons for her to dislike the woman, but perhaps the best one was her stunning amorality. Stones in glass houses, yes, but the woman had a sadistic streak a mile wide. At least Crane had the decency to hide his.

"The rest of ya, start sortin' through the rest of those crates," Crane said with a dismissive wave of his hand. And, turning away and starting towards the room he'd converted into his office, he snapped his fingers. "Crowne."

"I'm not a dog."

She wasn't sure who was more surprised- her or Crane. The moment the words left her lips Crowne froze. The rest of her coworkers wheeled to look at her, eyes wide, and Jackal audibly gasped.

Crane blinked hard, raising an eyebrow and turning to look at her. "What was that?"

There was no backing down now. "I said, I'm not a dog."

Oh God, she was in too deep now. Everyone was looking expectantly between her and Crane now, and she didn't have to be a genius to see the look of shock on Clyde's face.

For a moment Crane regarded her coolly, but the working of his jaw gave him away. He was not happy with her. Crowne squared her shoulders, standing firm despite the lump in her throat. God, she was an idiot.

The room was dead silent until Crane pointed to the ground by his feet and snarled out his final order.

"Come."

Jackal and Hyne sucked in a tight breath. All eyes were on her now; there was nothing else for her to do. Face burning with shame, Crowne trudged her way across the room to stand beside him. Without a word Crane ushered her into his office, and away from the prying eyes of her coworkers. The second the door clicked shut behind them, Crowne wheeled on Crane.

"That was humiliating," she said. "Did you really have to-"

She didn't get the chance to finish. Without warning Crane grabbed her hard by the face, wrenching her chin up to look her in the eye.

"Don't ever undermine my authority again," Crane snarled.

Crowne stifled a scream, instead forcing herself to ignore the familiar thrill of fear that rattled up and back down her spine and meet his yellow glare evenly. "I thought we were past the intimidation and empty threats."

"What makes ya think they're so empty?"

Crowne's heart pounded in her chest. "Oh, please. You would've killed me a long time ago if you were going to."

Crane's face was inscrutable. She bit back a cry as he dug his fingers hard into her face, regarding her for a moment in tense silence, before finally releasing her and taking a step back. Crowne shook her head, rubbing her face where his nails had dug into her skin and working her jaw.

"Just because I pay ya more doesn't mean you can get a big head, Crowne," Crane said, sinking into the chair behind his desk.

Crowne looked over her shoulder at him, taking in the entire room. It had been a foreman's office once, and it was little more than a small alcove with a large desk in the center lit by a dim overhead lamp. In the corner was a large wire cage with a sheet thrown over it, in which she knew Poe was resting- the faint rustling of feathers gave her away.

"I'm aware of that, sir," Crowne said.

"An' just because I entrust certain responsibilities to ya doesn't mean ya get to argue with me in front of everyone else," Crane said.

Taking a deep breath to steel herself, Crowne took a step forward, planting a hand on his desk. "I'm not a servant. I'm an employee, I do a job, and if I'm not being treated like one, I'll walk."

Crane scoffed. "No you won't."

She opened her mouth to protest, but came up empty-handed. He was right, of course, but she didn't have to like it. With a frustrated sigh she threw herself down into the chair opposite of him.

"I do half your job, you know. You need me just as much as I need you," Crowne said.

"What're ya tryin' to suggest?" Crane asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm just saying, a little respect wouldn't go amiss." Crowne was keenly aware that she was pushing her luck, but goddammit, she was stressed, she was humiliated, and she was tired of letting herself get stepped on just to earn a living.

"I give you preferential treatment!" Crane said, and for a moment he sounded almost indignant.

"And you use corporal punishment."

"I haven't done that for a long time!"

"You fear gassed me, like, three months ago."

"That was everyone there!"

"Alright, fine. What's my first name?"

Crane opened his mouth as if to answer, one finger raised in protest, but nothing came. The look of embarrassment on his face, however small, was worth its weight in gold.

"Fine. I accept your premise," Crane said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

"It's Tracy," Crowne said, only because she knew he would never ask. "...But what was it you wanted to see me for in the first place?"

"Well, first off, I need ya to call Astro and confirm when he's gonna have that chemical shipment in," Crane said, running a hand along the stubble on his jaw.

"Astro?" Crowne said, groaning. "He's always so difficult. Never wants to deal with me."

"Well, tell 'im if he won't deal with ya, he's gonna hafta deal with me."

Crowne nodded, leaning back in her chair. There was no way in hell that was it. He wouldn't have pulled her aside just to have her make a phone call. "And?"

Crane nodded, mostly to himself, and for a long moment he said nothing. She knew better than to push him- he had that look on his face that meant he was thinking hard. Choosing his words carefully.

"In this next comin' week," Crane said, with that ubiquitous caution she'd come to know him for, "I'm gonna be bringin' on another associate."

It was Crowne's turn to cross her arms, blinking hard. "Just in time for Christmas, huh?"

Crane conceded with a tilt of his head. "Just about, yes. He's gonna be workin' very closely with me."

"And what does that mean for me?"

"It's not gonna have any effect on your pay, if that's what you're worried 'bout."

It was, in fact, precisely what she had been worrying about. She might not have been paying for additional treatment any longer, but Mary had accumulated quite the bill over the last few years, and Christmas was fast approaching. Barring that, though...

"What will it effect, then?" Crowne asked, observing Crane carefully, then added, "Will we have to work Christmas Day?"

Crane chuckled a bit at that. "No, we'll have no need of anyone by that point. You'll want to steer clear of the Diamond District, though."

"Funnily enough, I don't think that's gonna be a problem," Crowne said, then cleared her throat. A bit too casual there, Tracy. This was still Jonathan Crane, after all, and she'd just had a fight with him a few minutes ago.

"You'll both be doin' different jobs," Crane said. "Crowne, I want ya to treat 'im like you'd treat me. And I want to be sure everyone else does the same."

Crowne leaned back in her chair. "An apprentice, then?"

"Yes."

She nodded, lost in thought. Crane had tried to take apprentices before. Everyone knew about Becky Albright, of course, but there'd been another girl as well. Jones, was it? She'd never actually met one of them, though; he'd never gotten them to stay long enough. Not that she was going to say that out loud, of course. The implications were troublesome, to say the least.

Things were going to get interesting around here.

"I see. Will that be all, sir?"

"Yes. Get on that call, please. I'll be in here if there's any trouble."

"Yes, sir."

Respect.