ArcturusMagnus
Super-Earth
- Joined
- Dec 28, 2011
- Location
- Time
It was a dark winter night in Gotham. Snow blustered down the streets in white flurries, and the lamps dully lit the roads below. In the distance a police siren sounded, though it was fading away, not drawing closer. Criminals were like fleas in Gotham. No matter how many you managed to pick off, there were always more somewhere else. The police were simply unable to be everywhere at once. "Like chickens with their heads cut off."
This was fortunate for one Doctor Crane, known in the underworld as the Scarecrow. A more peaceful city, one where the criminal underbelly did not mask the actions of a lone man, would have proven far more difficult. Then again, those peaceful cities did not have do-gooders such as the Batman and his network of cronies. Their lot made his actions - and the actions of those like him - quite a bit more difficult.
No matter, however. He had something now which would put any of them out of the way, should they decide to stick their noses in on what he was doing.
Reaching into his pocket, Scarecrow produced a small capsul and tossed it around the corner, to where he knew a security guard was standing. The man made a startled noise as the capsul detonated in a puff of grey-blue smoke. Before the man could react, however, the deed was done. He fell to the ground, unconcious. His brows, however, were knit together, and a look of terror was etched onto his face. Grinning, Scarecrow continued onward.
"Here it is now," he said quietly to himself. Secreted at the back of the chamber was an ancient talisman from the depths of old Europe. Few knew how to use the powers within. Crane was one of those few.
This was fortunate for one Doctor Crane, known in the underworld as the Scarecrow. A more peaceful city, one where the criminal underbelly did not mask the actions of a lone man, would have proven far more difficult. Then again, those peaceful cities did not have do-gooders such as the Batman and his network of cronies. Their lot made his actions - and the actions of those like him - quite a bit more difficult.
No matter, however. He had something now which would put any of them out of the way, should they decide to stick their noses in on what he was doing.
Reaching into his pocket, Scarecrow produced a small capsul and tossed it around the corner, to where he knew a security guard was standing. The man made a startled noise as the capsul detonated in a puff of grey-blue smoke. Before the man could react, however, the deed was done. He fell to the ground, unconcious. His brows, however, were knit together, and a look of terror was etched onto his face. Grinning, Scarecrow continued onward.
"Here it is now," he said quietly to himself. Secreted at the back of the chamber was an ancient talisman from the depths of old Europe. Few knew how to use the powers within. Crane was one of those few.