PLAYER PLOT - FEAR GAS - WOULD YOU LIKE TO SEE MY MASK?

[notmydiagnosis]

CHARACTERS: Scarecrow, everyone under the sun.
LOCATION: Oxygen gardens / spread out from there
WARNINGS: Crazy paranoia. There's going to be a lot of people getting triggered, violence, etc
SUMMARY: Crane can't wait any longer. Takes place from Friday the 11th to midnight on Monday!
NOTES: And it begins! Plotting posts were here and here. I took the advice of a few lovely people and made this a catch-all post but feel free to use communications/the network as you see fit. Most importantly have fun and if I've missed something, please please please PM this account or plurk me about it at realthingshakes! This is my first player plot EVER so I'm trying to make things as simple as I can. And just in case I fuck up royally, the anon-enabled HMD is over here. shhh I'm paranoid





The mask felt good, it felt in place. It felt perfect. And that's what this plan was--sweet perfection layered in the form of fear and paranoia and violence. Chaos.

Scarecrow was going to be severely disappointed if no one died tonight. And he was Scarecrow now, not the polite and courteous (and ridiculously uninteresting) Dr. Jonathan Crane. That man was gone now--he'd gone the moment the Bat-Man had dragged him to Arkham after Rachel, the moment he was a patient in his own asylum.

Instead, it was Scarecrow now. Suit sharp, noose dangling over his tie, the manic stitching of a hastily sewn burlap sap with a gas mask in it. It was more than just a simple mask, it was almost another personality. It was everything the silly, bullied Jonathan Crane couldn't be, the quiet, dearly, fearful revenge he'd longed for for so long.

He willed himself to stop shaking. There were so many theories--so many people that might react to fear differently. This was Scarecrow's petting zoo now, the Tranquility's passengers his pets. He wants nothing more than to watch them squirm and scream and cry and panic; misses the way the body stiffens in terror, wants to see fight or flight reflexes kicking in. He had four canisters--two of which he had given to his young apprentice, the others in his own possession--four canisters of beautiful, raw fear.

He'd been expecting the vents upon his arrival--and with no Batman to stop him, he thought he was in the clear. Even picked up a few interested parties. There were friends of Batman, yes, but the sadistic smirk on his face never left as he finally released the canisters, laying them near the vents. Scarecrow turned to Tate, voice transformed by the mask:

"We have work to do."

Comments

( semi-open )

[coarse]

[See here for plotting, see here for telepathy permissions!]

[He'll be out before it begins, following advice and following his instinct, holding on to the belief that his sister is lost somewhere out there waiting for him. She can barely function by herself, can barely hold it together without her drugs, and the longer he takes the worst she'll get. No food, or drinks for himself - there's no need - only some bottled water for her. Otherwise he takes nothing but the clothes on his back, the communicator and his hunting knife.

(It felt like a provocation, seeing the thing in his locker. A secret hidden under the jumpsuit, neatly placed in the center, quietly waiting to be reunited with its rightful owner. Here, have your weapon. See how much good it'll do in here.)

The silence increases as he goes, farther away from where most of the crew gathers. He keeps his power active, trying to pick up familiar thoughts, carving a small sign on the right side of every corner he turns.]

[shoyu]

[ it's a bit away from the rest of the crew where bass might start picking up the faint sound of footsteps, the presence of another person. because soysauce had eagerly taken the first opportunity to go exploring, aimlessly wandering the hallways in search of something exciting. -- he'd found what he'd wanted, in a way. gotten hit with a good amount of the fear toxin. 'exciting' was one way to describe it.

so soysauce startles visibly when he rounds a corner and realizes there's someone else there, immediately raising his revolver to point at bass. the gas has had some time to stew in his veins, edging his thoughts with a deep anxiety and making his skin crawl, and soysauce looks -- disoriented, nervous, just a little scared as he stares at bass. he lets his hand drop to his side, finger away from the trigger as he looks at this stranger. ] Ah. H -- hello.

[ he manages to force a laugh, but it's a little strained, contradicted by a bead of nervous sweat against his temple. ] Sorry about that. -- pointing a gun at you, that is. Just a little -- nervous, I guess.

[coarse]

[Bass hears him before he sees him. Not just his footsteps, but the mess of paranoia wrecking Soysauce's thoughts and pulling the fingers off his grip on reality. None of that drives him away or tells him to hide - instead he slows down and waits, quiet and ready.

If the man's thoughts weren't quite enough to set off any alarms, the gun certainly is.

The knife in his hand is repositioned to a defensive stance, instinct swiftly pulling the strings of his actions. It's a startled stop at first, replaced by a puzzled and wary stare. Bass lets the silence sit between them a moment after the other man is done apologizing.]

... Make sure it doesn't happen again.

[His tone is uncompromising. He doesn't move, save for a brief nod.]

What're you doing here?

[shoyu]

[ there's a moment of silence as soysauce stares at bass, looking almost dazed -- trying to come to terms with the anxiety prickling at his nerves. this man -- isn't dressed like a slaver. doesn't look like the people he fears so much. it's enough to be reassuring for the moment, and soysauce hurriedly returns his revolver to its holster, accustomed enough to his weapon that his movements are fluid despite his nervousness. ] Right -- right, of course. I'm sorry, I'm usually not so -- quick to act like that, that was inexcusable.

[ his apologies are entirely sincere, and soysauce forces a nervous laugh as he looks back up at bass. ]

I've just been looking around. Exploring, I suppose. Trying to get a better sense of this place. [ another anxious laugh as he fidgets with the cuffs of his jumpsuit sleeves. ] It's huge, isn't it? This place. I must admit I've kind of lost my bearings a little bit.

[ a pause and a nervous exhale before soysauce ventures, ] -- may I ask where you're headed to?

[coarse]

[Slaver. It sounds awfully close to the people Bass should be avoiding. Sulfur slaves work for the Devil, their only goal being the elimination of monsters and their offspring.

Bass and his sister.]

Yeah. It'd be a shame to leave it so empty. [Dry in tone, never really hanging on to his own words with the same sincerity Soysauce delivers in his. Bass puts away the knife with enough discretion, sliding his palm down his face with an exhale.] Not really headed anywhere. Guess I'm exploring too, for what it's worth.

[He shrugs before glancing back at where he came from, hands resting on his sides.] I'm looking for someone, actually.

[shoyu]

[ another person just exploring. then -- probably also someone newer to this place? soysauce isn't sure if that's a good thing or not. maybe good? at least there's something that holds them in common, then. and he perks up a little at that last bit, fidgeting a bit with his sleeve before putting on a tense smile and asking, ] -- would you -- would like some help? Looking for that person?

[ he's sincere enough in his offer for help; he really would like to be of some use. but what he doesn't verbalize is the terror that lingers at the back of his mind, a crushing fear of being left alone at the moment. ]

If you could describe them, it's possible I might have seen them before. And two heads are better than one, right?

[coarse]

[Something contradictory quirks his mouth, a brief, lopsided smirk on his lips fading after a quick exhale.]

You look like you need more help than I do. [He shows his hands disarmingly.] No offense.

[The help would be welcome, provided it isn't ready to shoot him the moment he turns his back on it. Bass can hear the fear - the other man's silence is practically begging not to be left alone - and it makes him wonder what exactly lies in its origin.

But first things first.]

What's your name?

[shoyu]

[ like some sort of bad habit, he immediately forces another nervous laugh at bass' words, grasping at his arm. ]

Ah -- is it that obvious?

[ soysauce is fairly cognizant of how scattered his thoughts are, knows that there is something wrong with how anxious he's feeling. but the inability to calm himself down is frightening.

his hands haven't strayed anywhere near his revolver since putting the firearm away, and his words are lacking his usual, good-natured flair when he weakly answers, ] Please call me Soysauce. Musician and gun-for-hire, at your service, sir.

[ a rather self-deprecating laugh as he looks glances around anxiously. ] I do hope you'll forgive me for that earlier mishap. It's just the -- atmosphere getting to an old man, really.

[coarse]

Can't say I blame you, really.

[If anything, it's Bass who should seem too calm. He isn't - every single moment spent between these endless walls have the inside of his head buzzing with a sense of inescapable wrongness, an inevitability that has yet to even suggest a way out - but important matters keep him focused and his spirit in place. For now.]

My name's Bass. [No hand is offered and no standard courtesy is verbalized. Still, his tone is nothing less than benign, consciously trying to make sure he doesn't somehow set the other man off.] Like I said, just make sure it doesn't happen again, all right?

[After a pause, he points behind Soysauce.] Can you tell me where you came from?

[shoyu]

It's a pleasure to meet you, Bass. [ perhaps it's for the best that they skip the handshake part of the introduction process, really. who knows what kind of bad reaction that might trigger. for now, just the calm tone of voice is enough.

giving a small nod, soysauce looks back down the way he's come, rubbing at his arm a bit as he thinks back to where he's wandered so far. ]

I was around the area with the lockers and the -- ah, the tubes where we woke up. Went down that hallway for a long time and passed by an area with a lot of trees. [ he frowns. his memories start growing a little more muddled around that point, and he has to concentrate to bring back everything in sequence. ] And then -- an area with a lot of complex machinery. I hit a dead end and looped back to take a different hallway. I didn't see too many people between there and here.

[coarse]

[Most of his description sounds familiar enough, for the limited amount of time Bass has had to check out the most memorable and frequented locations. This should tell him he hasn't wandered all that far away yet.]

Okay. We'll go this way, then. [He says so with a nod and a slight, concentrated frown, pointing his thumb behind his shoulder. Bass tips his chin before turning to walk, head down, hand slipping into his pocket to take out the knife again.]

Musician, right? What do you play?

[shoyu]

[ the tiniest spike of fear when bass draws out his knife, and soysauce tries not to flinch. bladed weapons always make him a little nervous. still, he keeps his hands away from his revolver for now -- he's already made a bad enough first impression. ]

Saxophone, mostly. Just started on the piano when I got brought here -- guess I won't get much time to practice any more.

[ a half-hearted laugh as he patters after bass. ]

-- could I ask who it is you're looking for?

[coarse]

Saxophone? [Huh. His brows are arched, seemingly impressed.] I've always liked jazz.

[Bass moves over to the right side of a new corridor, carving a small symbol on the wall. That's taken care of in a matter of seconds, and the knife is once again put away before he dusts off the wall and resumes walking.]

My sister. [It's a quiet answer, softer, maybe more serious than before.]

[shoyu]

... your sister? [ there's a little bit of confusion, a little bit of doubt in the way he echoes those words, because he can't possibly imagine how one would end up here with their sibling. but mostly, he's just sympathetic.

lagging a few steps behind bass, he thinks over that for a moment before speaking quietly. ]

I hope she'll be alright. Is there any sort of place she'd be more likely to be? Like a supply room, or somewhere isolated, or -- any other clue?

[coarse]

[It takes him a while to answer, silence prolonged by the reluctance to say he doesn't know.]

... I think so, yeah. She doesn't do too well in crowds. [Beat.] Pretty sure she ran off when everyone woke up.

[shoyu]

[ it must be awfully rattling, having lost track of someone so close in a place like this. ]

Ah -- I hope you're able to find her soon, sir. [ a pause before he adds, ] Could I ask what she looks like?

[coarse]

[He asked that before - if Bass could describe the missing person - and he only remembers it now. That question never did get an answer, did it.]

Long black hair. Messy. [He gestures lightly over his shoulder, back turned to Soysauce as he keeps walking.] Big blue eyes, small nose. Southern accent. She's in her twenties.