Well Howdey Partner(s). Whos up for another rousing rendition of Apprentice? We still have a few kids to go, right? So I've been having a ton of really messed up dreams and I'm taking it as a sign to update this story! Lol, jk, but i'm updating anyways.

Chapter 6

Chanel's lips quivered slightly as she entered the small warehouse like home of her inspiration, Jonathan Crane. It wasn't the cleanest of places (not that she minded it, her own house would be a pigsty if she didn't tackle the task of house duties) with a small half kitchen with a mahogany little table at its center. Across from that was a tweed old couch that looked stained with some kind of dark bodily fluid, she guessed (and hoped) was blood. There were three more little doors that she assumed were spare rooms and a bathroom.

Her feet felt electrically charged as she moved them in a posed manner as if being in the lair of Scarecrow did not throw her mind into a buzz. It wasn't her style to go all out and bubbly, not unless she was in a room full of screaming people. She was too cool, too collected for that. But she could feel the urges to scream in glee as she observed the lair, and the man behind her could sense her holding back some extreme emotion by the way her fingers trembled at her side.

He supposed it was fear; it would only be logic that he frightened her, being a villain and all. That was until, she saw the mask. The burlap sack with a black stitched on sneer and cut eyeholes lay on the couch, and Channel held it in her hands, staring with wide grey eyes. Then she screamed, bouncing up and down, spinning, the mask pressed to her chest. Crane blinked, the girl seemed so reserved before and now she was acting crazier than a Bieber believer. "Oh my god, it's the mask, the mask! I can't believe it I'm freaking holding the mask!" she shouted. "Can you put it on?" she had somehow appeared in front of him, holding out the mask with an excited smile.

She almost looked like a little girl who'd gotten everything on her Christmas list. Her now open grey eyes stared up at him waiting. He raised an eyebrow before sighing and pulling the sack over his head. She gasped and screamed again, almost doubling over his skinny frame with a sudden choking hug. He stumbled back and tried to detangle her but she only slide down and glomped his leg. He shook it before stopping. "Enough!" he boomed and Chanel blinked slowly backing away and to the couch. "What is wrong with you?"

A look of shame came to Chanel's face and her lips pressed together. "Sorry," she murmured quietly. "I lost my marbles for a sec, but it's just…I worship you." Crane narrowed piercing blue eyes at the girl, seeing if she was lying or not. She wasn't.

"Why?" he could hardly believe that a teenage girl would worship a middle age criminal though he had witnessed weirder occurrences. She gave him a look of shock as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"You're Jonathan Crane and Scarecrow, the man whom people have nightmares about! You're like fear itself dude, how can I not love you. I still can't believe you chose me." She staring at him with this lovey-dovey expression of gratitude and Crane closed his eyes and turned.

"I'm going to work…don't touch anything." No longer than five minutes after he had descended into the basement, did he hear the creaking of wandering feet. He exhaled a snaky breath. The child didn't listen she needed…discipline. Scarecrow answered Jonathan's thoughts. Gas her, Jonny-boy, show her what fear looks like. He could hear Scarecrow chuckle as he grabbed a vile of fear toxin out the pocket of his trench coat and trudged up the stairs, slamming open the basement door.

He came to a halt just as he was about to throw the vile at the girl. She was sitting there, curled up on the couch flipping through an encyclopedia of phobias, at her sides were stacks of books varying from advanced college –level chemistry, a deep cover of the brain functions, and prized novels on psychology. He blinked watching as she put down the roughly 500 page book of phobias and traded it for one of chemistry about the same size. "What are you doing?" Chanel looked up and raised an eyebrow with a smirk.

"What does it look like?" she looked back at the pages that flew past her face. "Mmm, this is very interesting, the chemistry in G.G sucks, they never list the exact scientific methods of the Michaelis-Arbuzov reaction…though the complexities would throw most of the class into a pit of insanity." She laughed and grew quiet still flipping pages. It was then that Crane realized that she was holding his book that had a list of Russian chemist and she was actually reading and understood the theory.

She'll be useful… Scarecrow was the first to comment on the girl who apparently had a photographic memory and extraordinary mental abilities.

Perhaps. "Hey, Jon-Jon." Chanel was looking at him again and he glared at her acidly. "I, mean…Jonathan, can I crash here the night?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Don't you have parents to return to?" she shrugged.

"Dad's probably pulling another all-nighter at the lab again and…" she glanced at the books, starting to say something else. "And you have a very marvelous collection." She smiled at him but he could tell that wasn't what she was about to say. Crane sighed and turned back to the basement.

"Do as you wish." She giggled as he returned to his studies below and her faintly wondered if he was doing the right thing. He was sure the girl wouldn't break anything, she had some fear for him. But still her mind, no matter how useful, didn't seem that stable…

Ever's mouth had dilated at least three inches as she walked through the canopy of green, thriving, beautiful of plant life. The old green house had dingy green tinted glass and mold rampaged each moist surface. Vines as thick and powerful as anacondas littered the ceiling and floor. It was a heaven Ever had always dreamed of. At the far end of the green house hall was a round table draped in Spanish moss and a beautifully tarnished pair of gold chairs. Poison Ivy sat in one and a vine pulled out the other. "Come, sit." Ever didn't object planting herself in the chair to face her new idol. "So, Ever, tell me about yourself, besides your love for my children."

Ever smiled and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "My mum's a botanist and works at the new research green house uptown. My dad's an environmentalist, he…travels a lot. I had a sister named Tulia." Her smile dampened ever so slightly and Ivy got the feeling something had happened. Ever looked at Ivy and a sad grin touched her lips. For some reason she thought she could see someone familiar in the green woman's place.

"Both your parents are tree-huggers as well, I see they rubbed off on you." Ivy changed the subject. Ever laughed and nodded.

"Yep, mum says I'm more like my grandma though. She says I have the tendency to breathe fire when people piss me off." Ivy laughed now, it was a quiet mysterious sort of laugh, and Ever vaguely recognized it. The sound was like a thorn in her side. "You remind me a lot of her…" she whispered under her breath. There was an awkward pause and Ever's eyes wandered at each species of plant life. Her eyes spotted a cluster of white and fuchsia colored orchids she believed were called Rhynchostylis gigantea. "Mum has those in the research house."

Ivy turned to look at what Ever was referring to. "Yes, they are beautiful. Unfortunately, there are many in the species that are dying out. I've made it my job to adopt as many as I can."

"That's amazing, god knows you'd take better care of them than those who think its best to cut them open and play with their genetics." The both of them laughed now and cursed the perpetrators. "Hmm, I think this might actually work. I'd love to be taught in the art of plant patriotism."

Ivy smirked a moment and then began to think. "We must think of a name for you as well… How about Poison Oak? Do you like that?" Ivy smirked, extending her hand. "Good, I'll see you tomorrow after school, then." Ever smiled and shook her hand, confidently.

"Yes, I shall." She got up and pushed the chair back into the table.

sooo, questions? Problems? Concerns? REVIEWS? Ok so im not that desperate... REVIEWS? sigh... the next chapter is all about the next day at school. They will certainly have a bucket load to talk about... hehehe