Like just about anywhere on Earth, a lot of the rhythm in Gotham was ruled by the seasons. In summer, there was the laughing with the boys and kissing all the girls, naturally. There was also a general mayhem rather than it being dominated by any one rogue. Joker had Christmas locked down, Jervis had commandeered Easter long ago, Edward had been contemplating doing something with St. Patrick's Day for years and so far only done a James Joyce themed deadly quiz night once.
Halloween, however? Halloween was all Jonathan Crane's. They all knew that. Typically the first signs that Edward noticed started in late August and this year it had been especially bad, so he had made himself scarce and avoided the good doctor, going so far as to essentially set himself up with a riddle that was admittedly not his best work to handily be locked away in Arkham by mid-October.
He had still followed the events, police radio and all, and evidently it was a smashing success, at least he assumed Jonathan would see it that way. He watched him be brought in on November 1st, strapped into a straight-jacket and barely coherent, and decided to give him a few more days to cool off.
Then, at long last, he broke out of his cell - if it could even be called breaking - in the middle of the night and made his way to solitary confinement. For Edward, solitary was a nightmare, which was probably why once upon a time Jonathan had prescribed it for him an undue amount. In contrast, Jonathan enjoyed solitary - perhaps a little too much sometimes. Edward felt it was only wise to break up that monotony with a little visit. He got into the cell easily enough and turned the light on, then leaned back against the door to look at Jonathan.
"Evening, Dr Crane. How are we feeling tonight, hm?"
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Halloween, however? Halloween was all Jonathan Crane's. They all knew that. Typically the first signs that Edward noticed started in late August and this year it had been especially bad, so he had made himself scarce and avoided the good doctor, going so far as to essentially set himself up with a riddle that was admittedly not his best work to handily be locked away in Arkham by mid-October.
He had still followed the events, police radio and all, and evidently it was a smashing success, at least he assumed Jonathan would see it that way. He watched him be brought in on November 1st, strapped into a straight-jacket and barely coherent, and decided to give him a few more days to cool off.
Then, at long last, he broke out of his cell - if it could even be called breaking - in the middle of the night and made his way to solitary confinement. For Edward, solitary was a nightmare, which was probably why once upon a time Jonathan had prescribed it for him an undue amount. In contrast, Jonathan enjoyed solitary - perhaps a little too much sometimes. Edward felt it was only wise to break up that monotony with a little visit. He got into the cell easily enough and turned the light on, then leaned back against the door to look at Jonathan.
"Evening, Dr Crane. How are we feeling tonight, hm?"