Mask or Menace IC Contact

[itistolaugh]

"Harley here! Leave a message and I'll get back to you.

Or I won't.

Don't be boring."

(text, voice, video, action)

Comments

[itistolaugh]

No! [ Maybe? ] Anyway, you can't really be under the impression I could land anyone even slightly respectable. Bet you can't even name a single one.

And you know what else? The more you bring it up, the more your interest in my interests seems a little personal. If you get what I'm sayin'.

[restingstitchface]

Yes, I get what you're saying.

And I find the idea utterly absurd. Therefore, I'm going to let it pass without comment. You might wish to do the same.

[itistolaugh]

You don't see the appeal? Getting to lord over one of those cheerleader types you're so bitter against? Having someone at your beck and call to fawn over your genius and do all the dirty work?

[restingstitchface]

... I thought you claimed not to be one of those cheerleader types?

[Busted.]

[itistolaugh]

I was never a cheerleader but that doesn't mean I don't fit the part. Can't you just see me wearing a little pleated skirt, holding pompoms, not going with you to prom?

[restingstitchface]

Absolutely.

I can see you crashing through the windscreen once the night's over, too. It's a splendid reflection of your life, really.

[itistolaugh]

That's right, Professor, talk dirty to me.

[restingstitchface]

[There's just one, long strangled groan from Crane's end of the line.

Which doesn't at all sound like something else.]

[itistolaugh]

Was it good for you, too?

[restingstitchface]

[He gives her a deliberately long moment of silence, then puts the phone down.

Ignored!]

[itistolaugh]

[ Wait, crap, she was trying to make him NOT mad! Crap crap crap! ]

Professor?

Professor?!

[restingstitchface]

[Er. Right. That's loud.

But the panic? That's delightful. Maybe if he controlled himself, drew that silence out, he could hear it again. Control is such a lovely thing.]

[itistolaugh]

Professor Crane, are you still there? Come on, pick up! Please? Johnny?

... Scarecrow?

[restingstitchface]

[Delightful, yes.

He won't pick up right now.]

[itistolaugh]

Scarecrow, Scarecrow, come on. Stop playing around. I know you're still there. Come on! Stop it!

[restingstitchface]

[What an animated display of terror. He wastes no time in ignoring her for longer, as he sits down and opens up his notebook. Is he writing about it? Oh yes.]

[itistolaugh]

This isn't funny, Jonathan!

[restingstitchface]

[No, it's satisfying.

Almost as much fun as making Rachel Dawes wait those times she'd visited his asylum, in fact.]

[itistolaugh]

Oh my god, are you getting off on this?!

[restingstitchface]

[He taps the back of his pen against his desk. What a stupid motivation.

Though she's not entirely wrong. Control is utterly satisfying, isn't it?]

[itistolaugh]

Scarecrow, if you don't pick up then I'm gonna come over. I'm doing it. I'm coming over. I'm out the door.

[restingstitchface]

[Shrug.

He leans back in his chair and, with some relish, hangs up the phone. Without telling her he's switched over to hands-free. Oops?

Still, she'll do as she likes. She always does.]

[itistolaugh]

[ She hangs up while muttering some very unkind things.

By the time she gets to his door she's mostly fussed herself out of anger, and maybe she's cried a little bit. ]

Open the door, Professor!

[restingstitchface]

[Ugh, guests.

Knocking his door, uuugh. But ~crying~. Life is too unkind.]

There is no need to yell, Harleen. I was expecting you. In fact, I've been rather bored till you arrived. Do step inside.

[itistolaugh]

[ She doesn't step inside so much as fall on him and wrap her arms around him. ]

You're mean.