bakerstreet | minor injuries;

Entry tags:

minor injuries;

You or your meme partner has been hurt, but don't worry! This time around it's not that bad. You can still limp your way out of this mess.

INJURIES.
1. Sprain/strain. How did you screw up walking?
2. Broken bones. Simple fractures still hurt.
3. Cuts. Hopefully one of you has a sewing kit.
4. Burns. Location, location, location. Let's pray this one isn't on your ass.
5. Concussion. No, they're most likely not holding up fifteen fingers.
6. Other. I'm not a doctor.

HOW'D IT HAPPEN.
1. Stupidity. You did this to yourself.
2. Accident. Is an unintentional attack still an attack?
3. Attack. Don't lie, you deserved it.
4. Other. It's probably still your own fault.

WHERE'D IT HAPPEN.
1. Home. Did you remember to invest in a first aid kit?
2. School/Work. This should be excellent for getting you out of doing stuff!
3. Outdoors. Predators like the smell of blood. Clean up asap.
4. In the water. Hopefully there aren't any sharks!
5. Other. Like a hospital. That'd be handy.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

[Up for either role]

[Because two threads isn't enough, apparently... cuts/lacerations on her?]

[I don't see why not. I should note that Crane's not romantically or sexually attracted to furries, just as a side note ^^; ]

[I was only looking for some gen. :) No worries.]

This was a bad night for Charlie. First being injured, and now being dragged off by a bunch of goons to someone they called Scarecrow. She had killed two of them and nearly gotten away, but there were more, and the deep lacerations on her arms and legs put her at a disadvantage. Well, that and her conscience. She hadn't wanted to kill tonight, yet two criminals lay out on the streets torn apart because of her.

The men were talking about it as they dragged her off to some unfamiliar place where she could smell the stink of chemicals heavy in the air. She scratched, bit and swatted them with the long tentacles attached to the backs of her shoulders, but to no avail. More grabbed her to hold her still.

Eventually Charlie was tossed unceremoniously into the middle of a room where she could sense another presence lurking. The whiskers on the tops of her ears stood up straight as she glanced around at the odd surroundings. Machinery and chemicals, just as she'd smelled.

"Hey, boss! Look what we found!" one of the men shouted. She gave him a feral hiss and she backed off. Her gaze darted from place to place, looking for any possible escape.

[Cool beans :) ]

It was kind of amazing that Gotham city had so many empty buildings that could make for handy laboratories and hideouts. Warehouses, factories, and apartment buildings were popular ones. Crane had actually bought a small piece of property through a shell company this time, housed near Gotham's China district. It might keep the Batman off his tail for hopefully long enough.

The room Scarecrow had designated as his laboratory was only as big as a standard den, but it was big enough for him to keep his chemistry setup as well as several tables piled high with books and several notebooks.

Scarecrow was looking at his formula notebook, pondering if he should make any adjustments, when he heard the door open. He didn't turn around right away, until he heard that hiss.

Crane looked over his shoulder and his eyes widened. What the hell was this thing his henchmen had brought?

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Scarecrow slowly approached the creature. "An escaped test subject? Someone who ran out of lab rats and so decided to test their work on themselves?"

Edited (html fail) 2017-04-23 05:08 (UTC)

[In the original post I was planning to play her with her current profile description, but instead of the appearance I have listed there, I'm going to try this. She's still a work in progress. I hope you don't mind helping me test her out.]

Without being able to speak anymore it was hard to communicate with humans properly these days. Charlie did notice a terminal nearby that was open to a text document, so that seemed like a good way to attempt communication. Using her ear whiskers, she caused words to appear on the screen, and then made the computer beep to catch his attention.

The first is most accurate.

She still hissed and growled at him, unsure what was going to happen to her now that she was in someone else's hands, and bleeding at that. Her forearms and legs hurt terribly, but she didn't have the supplies to treat herself.

[Of course.]

Scarecrow heard the computer and turned towards it, wondering if Edward or Penguin had sent him an email. Like he needed to deal with them right now. He was quite surprised to see new words on his text document. Crane looked at the creature, then at the screen, then back to it, putting two-and-two together.

He looked at his guards. "Resume patrol. I'll radio you if this thing attacks me." The henchman did as asked. When you worked for the Scarecrow, you were too scared to disobey an order.

Scarecrow looked at the cat creature. "If you attack me, I'll send you into a state of absolute fear in which you will never recover. Play nice and I may treat you with some civility."

[I really appreciate it. <3]

You're the one responsible for Gotham's recent outbreaks of terror then.

She replied using his terminal, causing it to make the same beeping sound when she was finished. At least he was decent enough to talk to her instead of treating her like a mindless beast. Most people just saw her, screamed and ran. Charlie supposed she might too in their shoes, but it bothered her all the same.

I'm not exactly happy to be here, but if you can be civil, so can I.

Not that she trusted him. Trust was for the foolish, but maybe he could be useful. Especially if he identified her as intelligent as opposed to senselessly violent.

"You've seen my work then? Quite impressive, don't you think?"

It wasn't hard to figure out that this thing had some kind of power to write these messages. Either technokinesis or using telekinesis to press the keys. The creature could clearly understand him, and had some form of intelligence.

Crane looked it over, examining the wounds that had been inflicted on the creature. If it could be of use to him, all the better. Else he'd just gas it (him? her?) and call it good.

"Why don't you hop onto that and we can get you fixed up?" He pointed to a table that resembled an operating table, and had straps meant to restrain humans.

Of course. Though I don't know anything about the chemistry behind it.

Who really wanted to get close enough to find out? She had seen victims recklessly kill or even tear themselves apart under the influence of his work. Charlie wasn't about to investigate something like that. She had neither the skills nor the equipment.

She made a soft growling noise when she saw the table, and some of her fur bristled. Even though it was clearly intended for humans, restraint was something she was very familiar with, and it wouldn't take much creativity to rework those straps for a creature like her. With him wearing a rebreather she wouldn't even have a chance at fighting back, although she suspected he underestimated her strength.

I don't like the look of those straps.

Scarecrow gave them a look like he was offended. "Well, I'm sure anybody in Gotham would tell you that you're wise not to trust me. But I give my word that I won't restrain you. Not if you remain civil."

Part of him wondered just how much damage the creature could do when injured as they were. Those claws and teeth looked rather vicious.

"Unless you would rather be patched up on the floor." The other tables were all occupied and he wasn't about to get blood on any table where his books and notes went.

His word didn't mean much to her, but if he would be good enough to tend to her wounds, it was worth a try. They hurt and were bleeding. Even if he tried to strap her down, she was powerful enough to break the straps, and that was hardly enough to be considered uncivil. If it meant experiencing fear, well, that was what it meant.

Without any further messages Charlie limped over and bit back the pain as she jumped up onto the table. By then it should have been evident that she was female, as the testicles on a cat the size of a panther would be obvious.

She laid on her side to allow better access to her wounds, which consisted of two deep lacerations on one of her hind legs and a number of smaller cuts on her forelegs. If nothing else, she still had the two tentacles stemming from the backs of her shoulders to fight with, which were deceptively strong and equipped with many feelers that allowed her to manipulate objects.

Scarecrow watched the creature, having a good view from behind to determine that the creature was female. Well, that was one mystery solved.

Crane walked over to the other side of the room and retrieved a first aid kit, which he brought over to her. He brought out a bottle of antiseptic. "This may sting. Do try to stay still." He had no desire to be clawed up again. Scarecrow applied the liquid to her cuts, ready to jump back if she reacted violently.

"By the way, do you have a name?"

The antiseptic didn't bother her, and aside from some muscle twitches she didn't react. Something else had already mauled this man, and so far he wasn't going against his word. There was no need to give him new wounds to sport.

Charlie. Do you?

She already knew that people called him Scarecrow, but that was no more a name than Joker or Penguin. Those were monikers they used for their criminal lifestyles. If he was going to know her name, why shouldn't she know his?

Scarecrow got a little bolder as she made no move to harm him, applying more liquid to stop the bleeding. If she really had been a wild animal there was no doubt that he would have had to restrain her in order to fix her up.

"Most people call me the Scarecrow," He replied, putting the antiseptic away for now. "But you already knew that, didn't you?" If she had seen his work, and been in Gotham long enough, surely she did. "Dr. Jonathan Crane."

He next got out the disinfectant, soaking a cotton ball in it and applying it to her back leg wounds.

Yes, I did. It's a pleasure to know your real name.

And it was, in a way. Charlie could easily be polite as long as she was being treated with respect, and thus far he was doing just that. Respect went a long way with her, as she was accustomed to being treated with fear or disdain. Really, she would have like to be normal so people didn't run when they saw her.

Her muscles twitched again, mostly because she wasn't used to being touched. Aside from the team that had created her, no one dared to touch Charlie. She wasn't exactly a loving, friendly house cat.

"It's not exactly a big secret."

Batman knew his real name, as did the police and the other villains. Was there any criminal in Gotham who actually had a secret identity? Batman inevitably figured it out sooner or later.

Once her wounds were disinfected, Crane brought out a surgical needle and thread. He disconnected his gauntlet for now and slipped it off, setting it aside for now. No need to poke her on accident. "Ms. Kyle might get jealous if she knew there was another big cat in Gotham."

The talking was mostly to keep her distracted while he began to sew up her back leg wounds.

I haven't been in Gotham long.

Charlie wasn't sure why she had chosen such a notoriously foul city. Maybe it was because she thought it would be easier to hide, or that she'd fit in to the smallest degree. The latter was a ridiculous dream, but it was fairly easy to hide in Gotham, at least.

She growled softly when he began to stitch her up. It was an annoying thing to have to endure, and a bit embarrassing, but at least she didn't have to find the supplies herself.

I'm guessing you mean the Catwoman.

Though she didn't know the woman's real name, it wasn't exactly rocket science to make the connection.

"That would be her, yes."

Crane didn't deal much with Ms. Kyle, thanks to a mutual dislike of one another. Most of his schemes didn't call for a cat burglar anyway.

Scarecrow held onto Charlie's leg as he worked, to try and keep her as still as possible, only pausing when she spoke with him on the computer. As least she wasn't trying to kick him.

"Gotham is home to some colorful fellows. Some more colorful than the rest." Literally, in the case of the Joker and Dr. Quinzel.

Once he was done with the stitches, he retrieved the roll of bandages and began wrapping her back leg up.

I doubt anyone would be jealous of something like me.

Becoming what she was today hadn't been an easy journey, and if another person was envious she'd deliver them to Arkham herself. It was all a blur of pain, training and general inhumane treatment. She wouldn't opt to go through such a thing again no matter what benefits it might have. It wasn't worth it.

With the stitching done she relaxed a bit more, allowing him to bandage the wound with no problem. As long as he played nice, she would play nice. Despite being built for the task, Charlie didn't enjoy killing people. She didn't even like it when they ran away from her, but she was growing accustomed to that.

I've heard of a man called Riddler. He interests me. Intelligent people in general do.

"That would be Edward Nygma," Crane told her. "He's quite intelligent, yes, if you can stand his ego."

Edward was easy to manipulate, if you knew how to play into his arrogance and egotistical nature. Crane had done it before. Let the man think he was in a pissing contest with Batman or any of the other rogues.

He got to work wrapping her front legs as well, to keep the smaller cuts from getting infected. "I happen to fancy myself quite intelligent as well."

If you weren't, you would have dismissed me as a beast and done away with me by now. Or tried to, anyway.

Edward Nygma. She was sure she could find him if she chose to. Perhaps even through Crane, depending on the nature of their relationship. Charlie just wasn't sure if he'd have to hate the man or like him to send her his way.

Everyone has an ego, but in the case of egos, size does matter.

"I might have. I'm no animal tamer, and mind control is more Jervis Tetch's field. Though I could certainly find a use for a mutant cat creature who's sentient."

Scarecrow secured the last of her cuts and began to put away the first aid supplies, satisfied with his work. As long as she didn't do anything to open up her stitches.

"The Joker might have us all beaten in terms of ego. The last person who said he wasn't funny wound up suffering a rather painful demise."

And what sort of use would that be?

The idea of somehow being useful to him wasn't an appealing one, though she had expected him to want some kind of repayment for helping her. As long as he realized that Charlie wasn't some kind of pet, she supposed she could return the favor somehow.

I've heard of him, but never met him. Most people aren't very eager to meet me, for obvious reasons, I'm sure.

"Trust me, he's not the sort you want to get involved with. He and Harley seem to prefer hyenas anyway."

Crane put the first aid kit back in its proper place before returning to her side, pulling up a chair so he could sit down next to the operating table. At least this way they were closer to eye-level.

"I imagine most find you intimidating, which I can think of several uses for. Not to mention whatever power allows you to communicate with me through the computer."

Scarecrow | Batman Arkham Knight

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject