"Who said it was for you, son?" Jonathan came into a glimmer of light and inhaled deep, clearly high and out of his mind of toxin. He was known to do that, at times, to overindulge in drugs and put himself in a strange headspace but usually, he didn't have mass murder on the mind. Usually, he didn't really kill. And yet, downstairs, he had slaughtered so many. People he had worked with once, people he kind of liked.
But there was no rationality any more. No logic.
"Gotcha though, didn't it? Anxious. Heart racing. Pupils dilating. It's a weak dosage. Build up immunity."
"Shoot him." Harvey urged, wishing Victor would just shoot his kneecap off. He saw the glint of the scythe and tensed. Fuck, he didn't want Ed to end up like the Joker.
"I don't know, Jonny. That toxin of yours, in the open like that, with how used to it I've had to get? Doubt that's doing it." Edward took a step closer and Victor's eyes narrowed, trying to calculate the scythe range. Shit. "Maybe I'm just scared of you."
Maybe he could get through to him if he hit his buttons. Edward figured it was worth a try. Or it'd at least give them a good opening eventually, if he could keep Jonathan focused on him. "The only thing we have to fear, isn't it? You've told me that you are fear itself."
"No clean shot," Victor muttered and Pamela actually wrapped an arm and part of a vine around Harvey to hold him back. Seemed advisable.
"I used to think that but it's so limiting. So many phobias, how can I contain them all? Every fear. Every trauma." Jonathan laughed and honestly, it was a goofy laugh. He was not with it. "Fear of failure, fear of losing your mind, losing everything that makes you, you. Fear of bullies. Of being weak. Fear of bats."
Jonathan shivered with lightly and gripped his scythe tight.
"Fear of losing your head. Literally."
Jonathan licked his lips, unable to see properly through the mask, Edward's face had morphed until he no longer recognised it. He had no sense of reality. "On mounting a rising ground, which brought the figure of his fellow-traveller in relief against the sky, gigantic in height, and muffled in a cloak, Ichabod was horror-struck on perceiving that he was headless!"
"Fuck." Edward wondered whether Delite had already lost his head somewhere too, but there wasn't really time for those concerns right now. He had to trust in Victor's judgement and reflexes, and he supposed he'd just do that. Oswald did it all the time, after all. So he let himself fall to the ground to hopefully avoid any potential scythe attack and there were two gunshots. His first thought even curled up on the ground was a hope that Jonathan hadn't been mortally wounded.
Victor kept his gun pointed, having gone for both legs, as he'd suggested. It did tend to slow people down. "Hey! I don't know your book, but I'm supposed to be the Jabberwocky. So come off it!"
That should have hurt more, right? Jonathan felt insane right now but it didn't -- he couldn't feel anything. Sure, he was only upright because of his scythe but he wasn't crying out in pain, not really. He was shivering and making strange giggling sounds because something was wrong. Oh, he had a lot of formula today.
"Oh shit, son. Tickles." Jonathan forced himself to move forward, much slower - Victor was right there, but he was still moving. His eyes were focused ahead, his head fluttering in his head. "I left my head in the other room. I gotta get it. Gotta go..."
"... Oh no, who's head is in the other room, Jon?!" Harvey asked, not really sure he wanted to know. There were a few options and neither good. Delite. Bolton. Oh no, it was bad.
"Don't know how much sense he's making," Edward said, quite honestly, while crawling backwards until he hit Harvey's legs. Not a lot of dignity in this, but fuck it. he was very attached to his head.
Ivy finally released what she'd been building up in her hand for a while, essentially aiming a green, floral ball right at Jonathan's face. He was still human, it should knock him out. Eventually, anyway. The toxin did wonders for the adrenaline.
Victor shot again, this time aiming for the shoulder. Should be harder to lift that scythe with only one working arm, especially for someone noodle-armed like that.
Jonathan crumpled like a piece of paper and dropped onto the floor, out cold and bleeding in three separate places. Harvey watched him twitch for a few and waited for him to still before he finally trusted that Jon was down. And then he checked Edward over. "You stupid son of a bitch, you could have been hurt!"
He made sure Edward still had his head attached and then boldly stepped into the room, leaving Ed with Victor as he swiftly turned on the light and got a better look around. There were several cannisters of toxin lying around and Jon was bleeding pretty heavy but hey, the scythe was not in his hands.
Harvey approached and picked the damn thing up.
"Okay, he's unarmed." He looked the weapon over and then showed it to Victor. "It's actually pretty cool."
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But there was no rationality any more. No logic.
"Gotcha though, didn't it? Anxious. Heart racing. Pupils dilating. It's a weak dosage. Build up immunity."
"Shoot him." Harvey urged, wishing Victor would just shoot his kneecap off. He saw the glint of the scythe and tensed. Fuck, he didn't want Ed to end up like the Joker.
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Maybe he could get through to him if he hit his buttons. Edward figured it was worth a try. Or it'd at least give them a good opening eventually, if he could keep Jonathan focused on him. "The only thing we have to fear, isn't it? You've told me that you are fear itself."
"No clean shot," Victor muttered and Pamela actually wrapped an arm and part of a vine around Harvey to hold him back. Seemed advisable.
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Jonathan shivered with lightly and gripped his scythe tight.
"Fear of losing your head. Literally."
Jonathan licked his lips, unable to see properly through the mask, Edward's face had morphed until he no longer recognised it. He had no sense of reality. "On mounting a rising ground, which brought the figure of his fellow-traveller in relief against the sky, gigantic in height, and muffled in a cloak, Ichabod was horror-struck on perceiving that he was headless!"
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Victor kept his gun pointed, having gone for both legs, as he'd suggested. It did tend to slow people down. "Hey! I don't know your book, but I'm supposed to be the Jabberwocky. So come off it!"
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That should have hurt more, right? Jonathan felt insane right now but it didn't -- he couldn't feel anything. Sure, he was only upright because of his scythe but he wasn't crying out in pain, not really. He was shivering and making strange giggling sounds because something was wrong. Oh, he had a lot of formula today.
"Oh shit, son. Tickles." Jonathan forced himself to move forward, much slower - Victor was right there, but he was still moving. His eyes were focused ahead, his head fluttering in his head. "I left my head in the other room. I gotta get it. Gotta go..."
"... Oh no, who's head is in the other room, Jon?!" Harvey asked, not really sure he wanted to know. There were a few options and neither good. Delite. Bolton. Oh no, it was bad.
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Ivy finally released what she'd been building up in her hand for a while, essentially aiming a green, floral ball right at Jonathan's face. He was still human, it should knock him out. Eventually, anyway. The toxin did wonders for the adrenaline.
Victor shot again, this time aiming for the shoulder. Should be harder to lift that scythe with only one working arm, especially for someone noodle-armed like that.
no subject
He made sure Edward still had his head attached and then boldly stepped into the room, leaving Ed with Victor as he swiftly turned on the light and got a better look around. There were several cannisters of toxin lying around and Jon was bleeding pretty heavy but hey, the scythe was not in his hands.
Harvey approached and picked the damn thing up.
"Okay, he's unarmed." He looked the weapon over and then showed it to Victor. "It's actually pretty cool."