On the Road Again [Jonathan]

[Edward Nygma]

The used beat up red sedan creaked and groaned as Edward shifted gears, pressing on the acceleration. The headlights provided the only light on the road, not that there was much to see in this part of the island, trees and road, and the painfully dark sky rarely provided stars because of the city smog. The entire drive was dull, giving Edward more incentive to end this ridiculous errand as soon as feasibly possible. To think he had fallen so pitifully over the past couple months. He had gone from owning a BMW to this rust bucket, a luxury apartment to a cockroach filled studio, a prestigious job to technical support. It was absurd how the Federal Government could freeze not one, not two, but ALL of his accounts, without even a basis for their claim! They had no evidence! They lacked any type of intellectual skill to even comprehend what he had done, and yet, they still froze his accounts! It was not as if Edward couldn’t get access to it. Bank accounts, especially the ones in America, often lacked any substantive security. He could break in and transfer the funds; however, it would be difficult to use when he had his actions being watched for suspicious behavior. Paranoia? No, Edward was no fool. He recognized the car on his street, the man that followed him on his morning routine and the woman in the afternoon, and the listening devices in his apartment and car. Did they take him as an idiot? He knew, but he played along with their game, falling into this pathetic role and taking the only job he could currently get that didn’t require him to join the fast food industry.

His grip tightened on the steering wheel, and he accelerated the car faster. They would all pay for this, and they would all learn that they stood no chance against him. He was smarter than them all. His partners at the firm were nothing without him. All of those rich peers that had kissed his shoes a few months ago, now would not return his phone calls. They would see what a mistake it was to underestimate him. Because yes, that was what everyone was currently doing. It would be their regret.

A loud groan and snapped, followed by a grumble shuttered the car. Smoke tumbled out of the hood of the car where the engine was located, and the car movement began to slow. Edward cursed this terrible car and Bruce Wayne. After all, he would not be on his way to Arkham Asylum if not for a request from his higher superiors to look into why the Wayne Security System at Arkham was not accurately programming with the older technology. He shook the steering wheel, frustrated and annoyed. The car slowing to a complete stop in the middle of the road. After a moment of cursing to himself, he took a deep breath and got out of the car. Edward knew how to fix things, and cars were hardly a problem. He opened up the hood to smoke, and he batted it a way to get a better gauge of the damage. When he saw what had broken, he cursed again and kicked the car. He could fix things, but when a piece was flat out split in half, and he had no new equipment, it certainly made it far harder. He pulled out his phone to see no service.

At this point, he shouldn’t have even been surprised because apparently the world had made its mission to ruin Edward’s life. He ran his hands through his hair, groaning and pacing. He hated having his time wasted, and it appeared that it happened more often these days. He began calculated the distance to Arkham and the last place he had past, debating which would be faster. He also began making a mental inventory of what he would need. Thankfully, it seemed one good thing would happen today. He caught sight of headlights of a nearing car, and he purposefully stepped out into the road to wave it down and make it stop.

[Jonathan Crane]

The long stretch to the asylum was always a dark one, no matter what time it was. The closer someone would get to the place the more the darkness would shroud and surround. It was a place that was supposed to radiate hope and a future. It certainly was for his prospects, but there seemed to be a curse that hung in the air. Even he could feel it in his bones and it had its share of dark history. His employer probably had much more to hide. Skeletons were still in the walls and screams still haunted the halls. Something about the place moaned with dread.

Smoke in the distance had caught his attention long before anything else. The figure had wandered into his headlights waving him down. Quite the chance to wave down a stranger in the dark. He must have been desperate. All things contemplated while his foot only barely eased off of the gas. Lost in thought his eyes stared forward into the dark. The Asylum was just barely visible through the trees in the distance. Things couldn’t wait anymore. If he was going to make a breakthrough then he was going to have to take a risk….and he was running out of time.

Illumination in the reflection of his windshield tore the doctors attention away from the road. His gaze cast down to the console in the middle that held his phone. Another message. It could wait, just like all of the others this week. The doctor refocused on the road just in time to slam on his breaks, sending everything held in the car lurching forward. Tires locked against the road and the painful screech of the metal echoed through the path between the woods.

He had nearly hit him.

With the car stopped and his mind, for the moment, back in reality he locked eyes with the man standing in the bright of his lights. For a long moment he looked him over and then glanced to the shamble of a car pulled to the side. Too much to deal with on his way to work already, but not entirely unsalvageable. Far too casually, the doctor adjusted his glasses and clicked the release for his seatbelt. The alarm indicator told him his keys were still in the ignition when he stepped out to finally meet the man.

Digits adjusted the frame of his suit in his approach. For far too long a moment he stared in silence, moving a wide circle to the side. The gravel cracked and shifted under his feet in the still air as he moved. When he finally halted his gaze broke to the car for just a moment, as if that had been his focus entirely for the wide walk around him.

“Broken things often find their way here.” The doctor finally spoke and refocused back on the stranger. Broken things came but they rarely left repaired. A hand was finally extended to shake the others. “Dr. Crane, Psychotherapist at Arkham Asylum. And you….Seem to have broken something…” He noted, with a glance to the car once more.

“How can I help you?”

[Edward Nygma]

People, Edward had learned, were predictable. Thomas Hobbes had rightly summarized mankind in Leviathan during the 17th Century, “for a general inclination of all mankind a perpetual and restless desire of power after power, that ceaseth only in death.” A sentence that he had read in the flickering light of a library when he was young that had brought clarity to the actions of those around him. People propelled themselves in the direction that benefited their own self-interest to bring worth to their lives. Power held many forms. A hiker climbed a peak of a mountain to have power over nature. A socialite provided a charitable donation to have power over those less fortunate. A father beat his son to have power within his household.

People sought power, and people were reluctant to give up such power, which is why when Edward walked into the middle of the road. He had no concern over the driver hitting him. No, if the driver hit him with the car, that would put him into a precarious situation with the police and threaten his current power, whatever it might be. However, if Edward simply waved from the side of the road, the man would have no intentions of stopping unless he was a person who enjoyed helping others, wanting the person they help to selfishly shower them with praise. He had met some of the staff at Arkham, which would be the only type of person driving on this road, and none seemed to seek employment at Arkham out of the kindness of their heart.

Therefore, stepping in front of the car was the best decision. He stood there, reaching his hand in the air and waving it about to make certain that the driver (hopefully not blind) could actually see him. The car continued same speed, and Edward’s brows furrowed ever slightly, briefly thinking over the eye exam required to obtain a driver’s license and then the likely average age of an employee at Arkham. The chances of this driver having terrible sight seemed unlikely, but the car continued to drive forward at a quick speed, which did admittedly make his heart tick up slightly. He then gauged the amount of time he would have to give to jump out of the way, and the fact that he had to consider it infuriated him. Who the hell was driving this car? As the thought came to mind, he heard the brakes make a painfully loud screeching sound, and out of annoyance, Edward crossed his arms over his chest because he had already calculated the friction of where it would stop so any concern of being hit had disappeared. His foot tapped on the dirt, and his eyes glared through his slightly dirty glasses from the unnecessary dramatic event. He looked through the window, but with the head lights on him, he could not get a clear view.

Finally, the door opened, and he saw a slightly taller man exit the vehicle, looking around his own age. He saw glasses, and so any excuse of sight could not be provided unless the man had not recently gotten his prescription checked. Edward might have taken a moment to notice that rather unusual silence in such an event, but Edward never did quite notice silence because he was often already thinking over what he would say himself. When the man finally spoke, Edward’s brown eyes sharpened further, and yet he forced a smile and roughly took the man’s hand, squeezing it a bit tighter. Broken? Edward had not broken a thing in his life unless it was to put it back together! “A pleasure, Dr. Crane!” he said rather enthusiastically with annoyance still tracing his tone. “I am Edward Nashton with Wayne Corp. I was on my way to update the security system when the car disagreed with me,” purposefully not claiming ownership of the hideous rust bucket. “If you would be kind enough to drive me to Arkham, I would appreciate it.” He gave the Doctor another squeeze and a slight look of concern, though it seemed he had not actual concern at all, “What prescription are your glasses?” He let go of his hand.

[Jonathan Crane]

Edward Nashton. A name logged in his mind for the moment. Occupied by a very large corporation that the Asylum itself benefited in many ways from. Perhaps it was good that he stopped the car. This was becoming more advantageous by the moment. It wasn’t every day he was able to choose not to run into someone that worked for Wayne corp alone in the woods. As much as it was tempting, he would have to refrain from his research for a moment to assist in a matter that may be helpful in the future. This was the problem with involvement in personal affairs, people, attachments, such fragile things, and all of them meaningless.

The doctor looked him over through the dust that swirled in the air, illuminated by his headlights. Tall, well put together, near his thirties, looked well adjusted from a glance, but was clearly overcompensating. No one was truly the image they portrayed. It was just the image that they wanted others to see so that they didn’t expose their true anxiety. The person that they really were. In this case, someone capable of making a mistake, but it wouldn’t be the worst one they’d made tonight.

There wasn’t a point to checking out the car for himself, as he originally was entertaining when he thought of obtaining the man before. It would have been a good opportunity to get him to the side of the road and drug into the trees where he could properly handle him, but since the Asylum was expecting him, that was a problem. The car didn’t matter in the equation now, plans had changed. “Of course, Mr. Nashton.” He agreed without nearly as much enthusiasm as him. The doctor took a few steps back to his car and opened the door.

The slightest curl of a smile crept at the edge of his lips at the other's remark. He turned back to face him with his wrist resting on the open door to his vehicle. “Did I frighten you?” He asked as his glacial gaze turned back to lock with the depth of Nashtons. “Good enough of a prescription, considering we are still speaking.” He followed up with a nod and finally broke his gaze. The doctor stepped into the curl of the open door, stopping just before he got inside to look at him again.

“It just disagreed with me.”

With that he got inside, waiting for the other man to make his way around the car. He unlocked it so he could get in at his leisure.

[Edward Nygma]

Edward did not consider dressing appropriately a product of overcompensation. He merely cared about his appearance. He considered himself an attractive man, and he expected his clothes to highlight that fact to all who caught sight of him. Dr. Crane appeared to have incredibly different expectations in his clothing. His clothes seemed a size too large for his thin form and the colors appeared dull, which washed his skin out. It was unfortunate because the man wasn’t unpleasant looking. He had a sharp defined jawline that Edward felt envious of, and unique large features that called attention to his potential. Not that anyone could appreciate such features with the almost numb expression he wore. Arkham certainly drained the life out of their employees.

Even if Dr. Crane wished to see the vehicle, Edward would have denied him at even the suggestion. It would have been an insulting request, suggesting that the doctor thought he knew more than Edward or that Edward was in fact lying about it being broken. Either way, it was an inappropriate request. If Edward could not fix it, this man could not either. Dr. Crane really only had one available option, and it was to provide Edward a ride. When he agreed, as anticipated, Edward provided him a polite smile and a nod, “Thank you.”

He was about to head back to his own car to grab a few items, when he caught sight of the strange smile and odd question. Edward locked his eyes to those deep blues one, and he saw a hint of life that he had yet to see from the man. His brows furrowed ever slightly, with a spark of curiosity, and then furrowed more with irritation as the man continued on. He frowned, visibly insulted by the remark and the doctor using his own words back at him. Edward had a talent with words, but in regards to his emotions, he had little control over them. He was an open book when it came to his feelings, and the anger was evident based on the sharpening of his eyes. “I see. I had been unaware that we had been playing a childish game of chicken,” he bit out and stormed to his car. He opened the back and grabbed a backpack and a few other items, dramatically slamming the door before heading back to the man’s car.

He opened the passenger door and got into the car. He was not afraid of this random man or the idea of getting into a car with him alone in the darkness of night. Any potential threat had not even crossed his mind. After all, he was far more intelligent than him. He had no concern at all for it. Rather, he was annoyed and insulted that the man felt the need to taunt him. His patience for people was already on edge. He would not have someone beneath him talking to him in such a manner. “Are you always so unpleasant, Dr. Crane? Or is providing a favor to a stranger not to your forte?” he remarked.

[Jonathan Crane]

The doctor settled back into the silence of his vehicle. It was something different from the chatter that this stranger enjoyed employing. Too much talking was always a sign of insecurity. There was so much more to be said with so much less. He was guilty of talking too much himself, but it wouldn’t be for long. He was so close to having the first phase of his work completed. His knuckles settled around the steering wheel as he waited for Mr. Nashton to join him inside, breaking the silence of the car.

His eyes pulled from the road ahead as he put the car in drive. His foot never left the break as he turned to acknowledge his presence near him once again. He still seemed bitter over the entire encounter. It was a strange way to react for someone that saved him from a walking commute to his destination. He could have acknowledged the quip before they entered the car, but there would be plenty of time for that later. Right now he had to get him to his destination.

With too long of a silent stare his eyes drug back from him to the road and began to drive forward again. They weren’t far from the asylum but it would have been quite a trek on foot. “I could let you out if you prefer to walk.” He responded with little inflection in his voice at all. The intent behind anything here didn’t matter to him. A choice had been made and now they were on their way to the destination he wanted. The doctor had bigger plans for him. Mr. Nashton was the one to ask for help, and he got the help he desired.

“I will let you be the judge on my hospitality.” He answered simply. “You were saying you work for Wayne Corp. Updating the security at the asylum? The asylum has needed someone like you for a while now.”

An update in security might cause more complications for him than help, but he wouldn’t write it off as useless completely yet. Knowing exactly what was going to happen could work to his advantage. “Several systems have seen their last legs already, cameras not working, I’m sure passwords have been compromised a time or two.” He mused with little thought to it. The place was old and regulations were not strict. It wasn’t his fault any of these systems were out of date.

“Do you know the grounds well Mr. Nashton? Perhaps I could show you where things are...Since you seem to have a run of bad luck tonight.”

[Edward Nygma]

Yes, he was always this unpleasant, which explained his poor attire. The man had no reason to dress nicely because apparently, he greatly disliked people. If his clothing doesn’t chase them away, his personality certainly will. How did this man become a psychologist? He thought a requirement of a psychologist was the ability to connect to their patients. He was beginning to doubt if the man in the driver set had ever had a single meaningful human connection in his life. Or possibly, Edward was being harsh. Edward’s mood was quite terrible at the moment, and Jonathan was doing nothing to help it.

“Hm, I am certainly weighing the option,” he remarked back but with a sigh of resignation, he buckled his seat belt. The faster he arrived, the faster he could fix the system and return home. The car sped off quickly, and he frowned as he remembered this speeding car almost running into him. He kept the annoyance to himself, even though it was clearly on his features. For being a quiet the man, he seemed to have quite an interest in the security system.

“Likely because the two fools they sent to update it last year knew nothing about basic software,” he remarked. Many of his assignments were simply fixing their stupid mistakes. “Wayne has made ensuring the security at Arkham a top priority, which means, I have a long night ahead of me.”

The offer added a spark of suspicion. Based on their experience so far, the man did not seem one to openly offer help without being pressed do so, or having interest of his own. “Only once. You have a keen interest in the security system? Has someone stolen from your office? Or did one of your insane patients attack you?” he let out a half laugh with the thought, “I suppose having a weak security system would leave the staff rather unsettled…or frightened.” He purposefully used the word the man had said to him earlier.

He moved on from the thought and actually addressed his offer, “I can likely find my own way, but if you want to escort me to the main security room, I would accept.”