The night was violent with rain. One would think that the air would be too cold but the air was thick and warm, like a blanket. There was no mistaking the draft to be no more than a mere dampness. Even the rain drops only iced the body for two seconds before just becoming a mere annoyance of soaking through ones jacket. There was no one on the streets with the weather like it was. But it was nice with just the sounds of the rain drumming on roof tops, the concrete pavement, trash cans and water drains every now and again. Violet was walking with her hands in the pockets of her hooded jacket. Pale skin bright almost like a flashlight in the late night darkness. Her brown hair fell into her face a little as she walked. Her hair was brown with tinted red. The red that was almost like that of the streaks in her right eye, which was black. Her left eye was purple with blue-grey streaks. She was looking downwards as she walked. Not caring to look or anywhere else. She was too involved in watching the rain make droplets. It was interesting as the little puddles were made, staining the ground. Like clear blood. She smiled to herself out of amusement. The sounds of distant traffic gone unheard by now. As Violet reached the street corner, waiting to cross, a couple ran across the cross walk with obliviousness of both her and the fact the light had not changed. Violet finally looked up a little to watch the couple run past her, most likely running for shelter from the rain. A flash of a top hat, dark blue coat, blond hair and a Cheshire grin which was followed by red hair, a white apron and more giggling. Violet raised an eyebrow. Turning her head a little to watch the two, running hand and hand, disappear down the street.
Before long the light changed and Violet made her way once more, crossing the cross-walk with little or no interest in the strangeness of her evening. She had woken a mere two hours ago after having a dream about her father experimenting on her. Something she had hoped to forget about. Nothing could possibly change the past. What was done was done. She wanted to forget it but that night haunted her and she hated thinking about going to sleep. But apparently she had hoped too far into thinking that the weather would be cold enough to keep her awake. Violet wasn't even sure what time it was either. She decided to get off the street. She needed noise louder than the the rain. Before long, knowing her way around Gotham, she came to the train station. Lack of security at the moment made her smile and she seemed to become like a ghost as she slipped aboard. Her dark jeans and dark green hooded jacket were soaked but luckily she was wearing a another sweatshirt underneath. Her sneakers also soaked. Wearing civilian clothing kept things normal for the most part. As long as she kept her eyes averted, she had less trouble getting along with people. People tended to ask questions, something that made her think of her stint in Arkham. Riddler's prying questions during rec time. Feeling the rumbling of the train, she stared at the floor. Thoughts going back to the couple who had passed her earlier. Her eyes then flickered to a newspaper laying forgotten next to her.
She slipped it off the seat next to her and held it in her fingers, making sure not to let the black ink of the paper get her hands too dirty. Break Out At Arkham Last Night. Was what the front headlines read. Violet nodded in understanding, reading the small warning the police cautioned the citizens about. The Mad Hatter had escaped. She frowned a little. An uneasy feeling. The train entered a tunnel before coming back into light again. Violet nearly jumped as she found someone had sat down next to her. A scrawny, thin, sleep deprived looking man with floppy ginger hair. He was wearing ordinary clothes that had frayed patches here and there. His clothes looked worn and some places had been restitched. Dark brown eyes glanced at her. Lips almost pulled into a worn smile. For the first time since getting on the train, Violet noticed nobody else was in the train car with them. She pulled the hood of her jacket down a little, exposing her face. Jonathan Crane looked a little amused.
"Dr. Crane", came the reply of a person who was deeply annoyed.
"I knew you got out", He told her.
"Is that why you followed me?" Violet asked, giving him a cold look.
"Violet, one needs to study another ones actions to really understand the persons mind", Crane said, folding his thin fingers as though about to give a lecture on the human mind.
"You tried to experiment on me in Arkham. Like you did the others", Violet exclaimed, "And if I haven't told you once, to tell you another hundred times, don't call me Violet. Call me V", she added, clicking her tongue irritably.
Crane quirked an eyebrow out of interest, "Don't take it personally", he continued, ignoring what she had just said, "I would never do it to hurt you".
"Right. Like I should believe the guy who possibly let the hatter escape, along with every other crazy in the asylum", V tossed the news paper at him as she said this, as though throwing it in his face for emphasis.
Crane didn't look surprised. He was good at masking every single emotion on his face. His face might as well as have been made of pure stone. The only indication he gave that he was surprised about the break out was a nod before setting aside the paper in disinterest. He turned back to V a second later. She had pulled her hood back up and was slouching slightly, arms folded. She had decided to just ignore him. But this didn't stop Crane from trying to gain her attention.
"You should know I had nothing to do with that", he continued as though he thought they were still having a conversation, "I know you saw them. Knightly and Tetch, I mean".
V said nothing. Though, for some reason continued to listen. She knew she didn't have the power to block him out. She hoped the train would stop again and maybe he'd get off and leave her alone. Though, by a stroke of a cruel hand of fate, the train continued to move. V just stared upwards.
"Your not speaking to me suggest so many things you know", Crane told her, "I will have to mark this down the next time your in Arkham. Maybe we can talk about it in therapy".
V felt him pushing. He was going down that route.
"Maybe you'll be more open about your childhood, yes? That's where all the therapists start but I like to make the exception of not going directly there", Crane continued to talk, "Fear is what drives many to talk about what they don't want to think about".
V just sat there. Trying to think of something more sobering. Like the rain she had left behind when she had decided she needed a distraction. But apparently riding the train had been more hell than anything. She didn't look at him. Trying to concentrate on the opposite window. She could not see her reflection. Anyone would have ran screaming if they had noticed. Crane didn't seem to care or if he had noticed, he was trying to work it into the conversation somehow. But before the good doctor of fear could say something about the weather, the train's tires screeched and the dull toned voice over head announced yet another stop. Crane stood. Not looking intimidating as he did when he had his Scarecrow mask. V just glanced up as he turned to her.
"Remember Ms. Telsa, I'm always watching. See you at our next session", Crane replied, voice void of any emotion, he had cupped her chin before dropping his hand and standing up straight once more.
As he turned to get off the train, V threw dagger-glares at his retreating back. He was gone as the doors closed. And the train moved along. V made a sigh of relief. She decided to get off at the next stop, which only took another ten minutes of silence to get to. It was still raining but not as hard. V got off the train without anyone noticing her. She heard someone mention the time but the wind seemed to slam against her ears, making it hard to hear as the train peeled away again. V slunk into the shadows and once again made her way down the side walk once she was on the streets again. The street lamps had come on at this point but V didn't really care for them and decided they would just make her stand out. She had to glance over her shoulder every time she passed an alleyway now. Though it wasn't with paranoia but with a deepened glare and annoyance.
V didn't hate Jonathan Crane. No. She was just annoyed with him. At the same time she respected Scarecrow's tact of making everyone run in fear but that was it. She had discovered Crane was rather interested in her but she didn't like him in that way. And rolled her eyes at the sickening thought of him using his psychology talk to hit on her or at least get her to talk to him so he could.
"Gross", V thought as she hunched her shoulders, breathing in the smell of damp air that filled Gotham City.
And as far as she was concerned, she hopped she would not have to return to Arkham any time soon either. With this in mind, she eyed a homeless man and his friends having a bonfire in an alleyway. V touched her stomach. She hadn't eaten yet that night. A smile flickered on her face as she walked over, looking as though all she wanted to do was to warm her hands over the flame-engulfed trash can.
Over the thunderstorm that entered Gotham just in those few seconds, nobody heard the blood curdling cries of people being attacked by a young woman with pale skin, mismatched eyes and a thirst for human blood.