you're a dream amongst the sharks [;;crane]

[mary]

Beautiful and terrifying;
Living restless,
We dance in dark suspension,

White walls grew terribly lonely after only a short period of time, and Alice found herself pacing. Sitting on the ground. Moving her table that served as a bed around.. Anything to avoid thinking about the dismal situation that she found herself in. Alice had never considered herself one to dwell on the ill of a situation- but she couldn't deny that she found herself in a rather unpredictable spot, that would more than likely end in the loss of her life. She did her best to maintain a healthy state of mind, to keep herself busy, and to do her best to keep positive. The Crane man came to visit her increasingly often, though- he rarely stayed for very long. Sometimes he brought his clipboard, other times- he merely made mental notes. Alice didn't always talk, and neither did he. Something they just dwelt in the same silence, drinking in the rare company. When they did talk, it was often banter, but Alice did not complain. She found herself growing eager as she heard his footsteps outside..anything to break the monotony of the white medical walls.

Alice often probed at the bespectacled man, often holding nothing back- but sometimes, when she didn't push..he revealed something about himself. It was never a statement, more like something whispered under his words. Alice always listened for what Jonathan Crane didn't say.

It was her eighth day in his captivity, perhaps her ninth, when he entered without waking her. He often shut the door loudly enough to jar her into consciousness, but this time- he was quiet. Her eyes opened enough for her to make quite sure it was him. Yes, his thin form stooped to carefully lock the door before straightening- turning just as she closed her eyes once more. Alice quietly wondered if perhaps he intended on killing her in her sleep- she waited, half-expecting to feel a needle piercing her skin.. No. Minutes passed, and the dark-haired man seated himself, opening a book with a faint creak of old pages. She remained still for quite some time- merely listening to him shifting, turning the pages and waiting. After some time though, he stopped turning the pages.. Opening one eyes, she looked at him from under long lashes- he was examining her, eyes fixated intently on her 'sleeping' form. She closed her eyes once more, "Reading is often more enjoyable if you turn the pages, Doctor.." her voice was soft, yet teasing as she opened her eyes to feast upon his reaction.

[[T.]odd]

He was hardly considered to be counting the days. And he certainly wasn't decided in keeping her alive or not. But somewhere within the past week, her company had changed. It had stopped becoming something that fascinated him, and turned into something he enjoyed. It was unlikely, of course, that she noticed this. Jonathan Crane didn't know how to properly show emotions that conveyed happiness or contentment, certainly not that most people would understand. Anyone that knew him would recognize silence and a softer expression on his face. But then again, no one really knew him. And yet, sometimes, he got the feeling that Alice was trying to know him. It was a curious feeling, having someone want to know you. He could hardly imagine why (after all, he was keeping her captive) but it felt... nice. In the oddest way. Most people wanted to know him psychologically, to figure him out as he figured out others. This, though, was different.

She was certainly hard to peg down, Miss Alice Fitch.

Watching her now, Jon had paused in his rereading of the Tell-Tale Heart. It was a story he loved, but at reaching the boasts of the man's cleverness, he was reminded of his own personal puzzle that lay before him. She was sleeping, so he thought, and seemed to be resting rather peacefully. He wasn't sure if he liked that or not.

Suddenly, though, she spoke, and her words jarred him out of his contemplation, startling him visibly. For a moment he just stared at her, inwardly fuming at his lack of composure before replying. "I was merely considering my text, Miss Alice. Once again, here you are judging my actions. Won't you ever learn?" His tone was rather like a chiding parent, disapproving.

He'd taken to making her meals. Cooking was something he was good at, and he enjoyed the opportunity to use those skills. His research had reached a dead end without funds and, unbeknownst to Alice, her ransom was the most important thing. He was undecided whether to inform her or not. Her parents were in the process of deciding how to proceed, and he wasn't quite ready to let her go.

what happens to a man when
he spills his heart on a page then
he watches words flow away and
his feelings like on the page alone

[mary]

Ancient language,
Speak through fingers;
The awful edges,
Where you end and I begin.


Alice couldn't contain her laughter, which erupted from her chest like the tolling of bells to mark the passing of another hour. Hearty and delighted, she sat up her hair flowing around her face as she smiled to him, obviously quite proud of herself. She swung her legs cheerily over the edge of the table, and looked to the doctor. He would be cross with her for startling him, and for laughing so about it- but Alice took what few pleasures she could find in the strange place. She tilted her head, still smiling brightly as she shook her head. "I'm afraid not, Doc." She chimed, standing in a slightly stiff movement, running her hand back through her hair. Eyes fixating on the food that he had brought for her, she moved towards it instantly. Grabbing the tray, she turned upon her heel, she sat next to him without a moment's hesitation. Tilting her head, she observed the book in his hands as she popped a plump grape into her mouth, chewing on it.

Lips puckering, she picked up another- chewing on it. This one was slightly less sour. Her good faith was rewarded as the next one was particularly sweet. She picked up a slice of bacon- crunching on it with a small purr of satisfaction. "I never enjoyed Poe.." She sighed, "He never fails to make me feel hopeless." Alice looked at the man next to her, throwing one leg over the other- kicking her ankle merrily. She wrinkled her nose, "Anabel Lee was almost happy..". Almost, of course, being the key word.

Alice let out a small huff, before extending a piece of bacon to him. "You should eat too..." She said waving the piece of food at him with a smile, though her eyes remained fixated on the text in his hands- reading it quietly.

ooc; faaaail

[[T.]odd]

Jonathan couldn't help but glare at her as the laughter erupted. He hated laughter. Laughter transported him instantly to his high school days, where it was more often than not directed at him. It filled him with a burning anger and her words weren't anything to drive it away. She SHOULD be afraid! Just because they had grown closer... He blinked his eyes to diminish that thought. They weren't closer. He was just involved in studying her. She was an interesting specimen, after all, and convienent enough until her parents paid her ransom. Of course, they were being very slow about it, and the good doctor wasn't quite sure what he would do if they didn't pay altogether. Surely that wouldn't happen. After all, he needed the money, and this was their precious daughter.

Of course, they might also contact the Batman, and that would be just as vexing of a problem. He didn't want any rodents sniffing around his place, except for... Jonathan glanced up at his dormouse, away from his texts again. "Edgar Allan Poe was a very talented writer and he understood the depth of emotion, something which you seem to experience widely, but not fully grasp. It was only a shame that his work went underappreciated during his lifetime." Which was true. Poe had ultimately commited suicide.

The food waved beneath his nose and he frowned. "I'm not hungry." And I don't eat in front of anyone. Was what he almost added, but refrained.

there waiting
for someone who cares to read them
to open their eyes and see them
to see if they can make his thoughts their own

[mary]

Alice watched his expression change from a pensive thoughtfulness, to surprise, to anger. His eyes flashed with aggression, looking over her with disdain- before slowly shifting to indifference as she plopped down next to him- chomping happily on her food. He truly was a curious man, he had yet to test on her -yet kept her alive, it seems to only visit her. She rolled her eyes at his answer, thoroughly predictable. Always such a grump, he was. Alice's own cheeriness hardly seemed to effect him, she made a face once more, wrinkling her nose. "For somebody who denies himself of all but a few emotions, you sure judge other's heavily.." She chimed, but said nothing for a moment- savoring his words, mulling them over. "You don't feel appreciated." She stated, looking at him, gauging his reaction to see if she was right.

As he denied her offer of sharing, Alice merely shrugged- popping the bacon in her own mouth with a second thought.

ooc; super fail, computer is dying. D: sorry.

[[T.]odd]

For just a moment Jonathan drowned out the world around him and stared at the text in his lap. The words were unimportant at first, until he locked onto the man's confession at the end of the tale. He had always found it interesting that the man had admitted his murder purely due to his own paranoia and the warmth that the police showed. The situation began as him being in control and changed to his relenting due to the kindness of the other. You feel underappreciated. She had asked. Yes. The doctor found himself wanting to reply, but he simply stared at the words on the page in front of him for longer and longer, trying to find the proper response to her statement. He couldn't resist noting that it had been a statement that she had made. How well did she know him? What did she know? How well was she reading him?

His thin lips curled up in an amused smirk when he realized his behavior was impecably like the killer from the story. Unlike the killer, however, he had no Tell-Tale Heart for Alice to notice and he wasn't going to provide her with one. "I do not enjoy possessing the knowledge that I have discovered and having it disregarded purely because of my methods of securing it. Although I do not aim to make the world a better place, there are scientists who have done far worse than I have. I am simply much more forward with my approach." His eyes transfered to lock on her at last, and her wide-eyed expression filled him with another small squeeze of panic. How much was she locking away in that head of hers?

to find out maybe life's not perfect
maybe it's not worth what he gives away

[mary]

The Fitch woman observed him, and knew at once that she was right. He had fallen silent, his eyes firmly boring into the text before him- seeing, but not focusing. He remained like this for some time, and so, Alice watched him- not afraid to gaze into his eyes, noting the thinness in his cheeks, the bones that protruded near his thumbs, his wrists...they were all like a work of arm. Jonathan Crane was mesmerizing, like a tragedy. Something terribly beautiful, like a plant emerging from the ashes, or a rainbow after a hurricane- he was horrifically handsome. Alice found herself studying the way he held his lips, they were tight- as if trying desperately to keep all his words pinned behind his teeth. Running her tongue along her own teeth, she continued to watch him with the intentness that only a woman possessed.

He was smirking now, that strange expression floating over his face. He was thinking things that Alice could only guess at, something much deeper than she could read. Perhaps that was the thing that she enjoyed about Jonathan Crane, she could make some correct assumptions- but she would never understand the inner workings of his mind. It was like gazing at the innards of a clock. Logically, she knew that the cogs, gears, and wheels were the inner-workings that made the little time-machine work..but she still didn't understand the intricacies. She ignored his words, stiffening only slightly as his gaze fixated upon her - digging into her eyes without a moment of hesitation.. She wondered if he could see into her. He made her feel transparent, perhaps she was already a ghost. She tilted her hand, fingertips skating out to brush against his wrist- and something that almost resembled fear dashed across his eyes. " The story is told through the eyes of a madman.........who, like all of us, believed that he was sane. " She uttered, her voice hanging in the air like a cold fog.

[[T.]odd]

What if her ransom was paid? What if he actually delivered her back into the real world with sanity (which, admittedly, he didn't normally do, but he just might, since he hadn't done any further testing on her)? Jonathan Crane got the explicit sense sometimes that Alice was picking up a lot more about him than she let on, and he didn't like it. Not one bit. But at the same he was addicted to it, addicted to letting this diminuative woman discover more and more about his life. He exhaled heavily, stuck in the decision to cut her away and treat her like anyone else, or allow her more and more into his existence. It was a dangerous place to be, inside of Dr. Crane's interest. Because his interest was very keen and very sharp and rather like being under a microscope.

These thoughts mused through his mind when, quite suddenly, she extended her arm to touch him. Her words were enough, for a moment, to keep him paralyzed as long as it took her to speak them. After all, she made an excellent point. But within those few seconds, he also seemed to register that she was touching him, and like being shocked by electricity he jerked himself away, his emotions suddenly displaying quite vividly on his face. There was a mingled sense of awareness, as well as uncertainty and defensiveness. He was like an animal that had been cornered, and it wasn't a safe time to be Miss Alice Fitch. "Apparently you aren't very accustomed to being a captive." Jonathan stood, eager to put some distance between himself and the woman in front of him, striving desperately to regain the gap of indifference that he had lost. "You should refer back to the code of conduct you spoke of so highly when we first met."

can't you see that this broken soul is bleeding
so you can see your feelings inside yourself
and wander through my heart

[mary]

She found herself craving to be around another living being. And Jonathan Crane was something...more. He was beyond simple consciousness, he was intelligent, he was something more. Alice had never been particularly close to any living person, she had not been close to her family, close to anybody as a child. Alice had never talked so much as she did with the doctor. It wasn't just talking, it was being quiet. It was relishing the expressions of silent. She had grown strangely accustomed to being near him. She kept her eyes on his, firmly, and his reaction was nearly what she had expected.

As if she were a toxin of her own, Jonathan leapt away with surprising grace for somebody of his awkwardness. And suddenly, something in Alice wanted to advance. Standing in a motion that rather resembled drifting to her feet, Alice kept her eyes fixated on the man before her. "You aren't very accustomed to being touched..it would seem." She stepped closer, it was almost cute- to see the stony doctor so unnerved by only her close proximity. A smile teased at the corner of her mouth, before she slowly turned on her heel- seating herself on the table...watching him with a proud smile. Some Master of Fear, she mused, kiss him and he might faint!

[[T.]odd]

No, I'm not. I'm really not. His thoughts corresponded closely with his wary expression as she stood and almost seemed to consider creeping closer to him, her face lighting up at the sight of him intent on keeping her at bay. After a moment or two of standoff, with each of them staring down the other and Jonathan unwilling to move further away, seeing as he was the captor and intimidator here by all rights, she relaxed herself. This, however, did nothing to help him and his edgy attitude, since the touch was enough to make him feel cornered. And now he was at a loss of what exactly he should do next. There was a burning shame inside of him for being so alarmed at her touch, and yet, something very alien about it too. And things that were alien were different and he was a very curious person.

But perhaps not that curious.

"I don't keep a particularly large amount of company, as you might have noticed." He responded dryly, straightening himself so that he no longer looked as guarded as before. "And I try to keep it that way. I look forward to my days of solitude again." Which was, quite surprisingly, a lie, and even he knew it.

letting you see through me
now only consumes me
forget your pain and watch me fall apart

[mary]

Alice smiled serenely as she swung her legs over the edge of the table cheerfully. She looked proudly at the taller being, who remained at least three feet from her. Perhaps he thought she might reach out and try to fondle him. She giggled at the thought, looking to him as she tilted her head- observing the variety of emotions that raced over the good doctor's face. She almost saw a sense of...vulnerability- though she would never admit it. And neither would he. She looked down to her feet as they swung merrily. She wrinkled her nose, greatly desiring a shower. "When do I get to bathe?" She inquired, looking to Jon without missing a beat. She was growing tired of being held captive..even with her delightful company.

"Yoooou'll miss me," she chimed, "Who else will you stare at while they sleep?" That same, amuse smile wriggled onto her lips, and she looked rather proud of herself and her jokes. She fell silent for a moment, laying back on the table- folding her arms behind her head as she looked to him.

"Why don't you psychoanalysis me, Doc?" She hummed.

[[T.]odd]

Jonathan made the choice to ignore her initial question. He wasn't going to let her bathe. Although he had a fairly good grasp on her psyche, there was no telling what might or might not lead her to suicidal actions, and although there were some ways she could commit suicide in this room, it would be far too easy to drown herself. And he wasn't going to risk that. For the ransom, he tried to convince himself. It was purely so that he could still get the ransom money from her parents.

So the good doctor let himself be assured of such a thing and focused on her again, frowning at her insistence that he would miss her. Would he? Perhaps. "I highly doubt that, Miss Alice. You demand a rather high amount of my attention." She did. Although, admittedly, it wasn't required attention.

Her question, however, threw him off. And it angered him. Why didn't he psychoanalyize her? He could so easily submit her to toxin and still return her to her parents. It wouldn't be hard. But she was fascinating enough by herself. "Those reasons are my own." He finally managed to articulate, staring at the wall nearby with a severe expression on his face.

what happens to a soul when
he's bound inside his emotions
and all of these words he's spoken
they bind him to the life he's left behind

[mary]

Left you love notes on their headstones,
I'll fill the graveyards..


His eyes were moving, though- they focused on very little. There was very little to look at in the small, poorly decorated room. She had already noted the chipping paint, the broken ceiling tiles, and the crack on the twenty-third floor tile. No, he wasn't looking at those curious things- it was as if his eyes were looking over an invisible screen- his eyes attaching strings to things and making connections.. He didn't speak, and Alice found herself growing tired of this silence. Bottom lip puckering out, she heaved a hearty sigh- glaring in the thin man's general direction.

He turned, mirroring her foul expression and looking over her. Lifting her shoulders, and then dropping them as quickly- again- an exasperated sigh. "Yes, Jonathan, because I've been seeking you out and interrupting your ever-so-important daily going-ons.." She perked a brow now. "Right?" He had a terribly habit of blaming things on her, didn't he? She wondered quietly who he would blame when she was gone..maybe he'd keep her corpse and blame it for everything. She smiled at the morbid thought.

Anger flashed across his face, and Alice smiled serenely. It was beautiful to see something so raw fleeting through his eyes, so guarded otherwise. They were vulnerable to portraying his utmost distaste, and she found that she liked it. Laying back on the table that served as her bed, she let out another loud sigh- her eyes still transfixed upon the man- she waited to see more anger. "You know, Doc...I feel like you killing me would be less painful than dealing with your constant mood-swings. So, why don't you do it already?" Eyes narrowing, she watched him carefully out of the corner of her eyes.

[[T.]odd]

Such expressions that passed across her face! It amazed him, truly, to watch them and marvel over every one that shifted and changed. It was a lot like having a hurricane at your disposal, except he had some method of control over this miniature storm. At least some amount of control. He almost had an affection for watching her attempt to wreck havoc upon everything. And he almost smirked out of self-amusement. That is, until she started to be sarcastic and intentionally pointed out the flaws in his experimentations thus far.

He didn't like her doing that. It suggested that he was incompetent and didn't know what he was doing. And he knew exactly what he was doing.

That wasn't exactly true, though, and he knew it, and that was the largest reason he was getting more and more irritated. And her smile, along with her outright, far-too-familiar command to kill her, was what made him snap. "I would graciously kill you, Miss Fitch, if my plans allowed it. However, as you clearly have been far too ignorant to assume, you are currently a bargaining tool. Although it seems that your parents could care less about your current location, judging by the fact that they've yet to wire anything to me yet, be assured that your current sanity of mind is to assure that I get what I want and need." His words were cold and harsh. "Nothing more, nothing less." Certainly not true.

and every new step he takes he
knows that he might not make it
to all of these dreams that he has yet to find