Let's do the Time Warp agaaaaaaain! New chapter, new time. It's about three years in the future from the last letter, so Hester's eleven and Jonny's somewhere around thrity-four.
Also, although Hester and Spooky have quite a few not-so-nice things to say about their mother Karen, I actually feel a lot of pity for her. Can you imagine how her mother treated her after she gave birth to Jonny? Not to mention having to give him up, Gerald Crane leaving her alone, her obviously abusive husband later, and that's just canon (but hey, at least she got to kiss Batsy). In my fic she also has Arlen's judgment of her for wanting to have an active love life, her daughter's manipulation into judging her as well (although to be fair, Hester's getting plenty of hell for her mother's reputation), I really feel sorry for her. So TL;DR, I don't hate Karen Keeny. At all. But Hester and Jonny are bitter about the pain they've gone through so they aren't as open-minded to their mother's predicament. Shutting up now.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. DC owns all. Although if DC would like to give me the real—I mean old DC Universe now that they've started a new one, I would be very grateful. Not holding my breath.
The Scarecrow Letters II
Dear Jonathan,
Mom's got a new boyfriend. Again. Didn't bother finding out his name. I won't trouble myself with sending this one off. He's not a perv like the last one. I think. At least Mom phoned the cops on his ass when she found out after I made it obvious. Good luck with not dropping the soap, sicko. I expect a nice, friendly reception from the others at school. "Hey, Keeny's mom's got another one. Can't keep her legs closed for five minutes, can she?" I can always hope that the Canary Islands will finally drop a huge rock into the sea and the resulting tidal wave will wipe my middle school—scratch that—wipe all of Arlen off the face of the earth. I can only hope. Madison (I've finally gotten out of the habit of calling her Madison B.) has a new BF too. He's a jackass. Tells me I'm going to grow up a slut just like Mom. Not in front of Madison, of course. Fucker.
Halloween's coming up. Your big day. Got any plans? I'll keep my eye on news from Gotham. Try not to let the Bat beat you too bad. If he catches you, go limp. Chess with Jervis still good, or has he really gone permanently to Wacky-Cuckoo-La-La-Land? How's Pamela doing? She go full plant yet? Don't tell her I said that. The gas mask thing going on with your new Scarecrow costume is pretty cool. The hood's neat, but I kinda miss your hat. You were out for four months. New record. I missed writing to you, but seeing you in action is so fricking awesome.
Anything new you wanna share with me? I'm all ears.
Love,
Hester-Mae
P.S. I only just realized this, but I think you're the only one other than Mom to call me Hester-Mae instead of "the Keeny girl" or just Keeny. Huh.
Dearest sister,
Until he tries to pull anything, your plan of waiting our mother's current beau out is a wise course of action. I am continually sorry the people of our ancestral lands are as tolerant and loving as ever, note my sarcasm. Madison appears to have the same taste in men that our mother does. We shall have to dispose of him eventually. I am glad to know that you care for my safety. I try not to let the big bad bat injure me unduly.
I am happy that my new Scarecrow design has your seal of approval. I know you like the hat, but it can be very impractical. It is hard to be intimidating when your hat is forever falling off. The gas mask is both wonderfully frightening, yet useful. As much as I have an appreciation of fear the average worm does not comprehend, it is rather annoying to hallucinate whilst engaged in combat with Batman.
I might do something for Halloween. I have only recently been kindly escorted back to Arlen and now that my special day is coming up, security will be increased. Nothing I cannot easily bypass, but it will be a pain and I have two broken ribs from my chiropteric friend. Everyone here is acting as normally as they ever do. I think Jervis may be improving somewhat. He is still obsessed with the book which shall not be named, but he at least calls me Jonathan instead of "Dodo." I shall take what I can get. Our chess matches are still the highlight of my day. Dear Miss Isley has not yet metamorphosed into one of her beloved weeds, rest assured. And she has not yet teamed up with me to join our formidable knowledge of toxins. Oh no, that would cause some of her poor "babies" to be injured. Sometimes I wish I knew where Jervis keeps his "playing cards." Far too many people do not do as they should.
Luckily I have you. I believe it is time I began your instruction. Where to start with that which has been my obsession most of my life? Fear, the most basic and primal of emotion. The first, and often the last one we feel. No other emotion provides the clarity and the intensity that fear does. While other emotions cloud the mind, fear is the realization of reality as it is. The heightened pulse and senses are quite similar to sexual arousal. I find fear to be far more satisfactory, however. It is strange that it is seen as such a negative emotion. True, to most uneducated dullards it is a highly unpleasant sensation, but to the enlightened mind it is a revealing and illuminating ecstasy. So few truly understand what a wonder it is. One day, I hope to have educated you enough so that you too will. As a psychiatrist, my goal is to assist my patients in overcoming obstacles in their mind keeping them from dealing with reality. Fear is the ultimate reality. So many problems in society could be overcome if people would embrace their fears. I confront them with their fear. With me, there is no hiding from their true minds, the essence of their beings. They see themselves for what they are. They are often horrified to acknowledge their true identities and so see me as a madman, a villain. I am no madman. To be mad is to be separated from reality. I have a better grasp on the real and the true than most. If anything, they are the mad. As a doctor, is it not my duty to help them? As reluctant as they are to see reality in its purest form, I shall make them. It is only right. No one understands this. No one understands the ecstasy of fear, the joy of seeing the fearful writhe. One day, I hope you may. One day you might be ready to be my first true disciple of Phobos. You have always carried out my orders without question. You have always carried them out to success. You have never been caught. There are grown henchmen in Gotham who openly brag of their exploits who have not a percentage of your competence. You were meant for more than contemptible Arlen. I can make you great, little sister. I will make you great. When I am through with your true education, you will never again be mocked by the lesser mortals who occupy our pathetic birthplace. I will teach you to embrace the enlightenment of fear. Together, we shall bring the gospel of fear to the world.
Yours,
Jonathan