Mycroft's Office

[Edward Nygma]

Jonathan had never been to London before. In fact now that he thought about it, ever since he moved from Georgia up to Gotham, he hadn’t left the city at all. This was the first time since his late youth; and the first time ever in the United Kingdom. He wasn’t too impressed with the city though, or it’s people. All people were the same. Governed by fear; without even knowing it. Though he had to say it was a rather remarkable experience to walk through the city again without people seeing him and running away screaming or calling the police… He couldn’t help but look around a bit paranoid, even if rationally he knew no one would recognize him here.

His first time on a plane had been something to behold as well. In that enclosed space, Scarecrow kept urging in the back of his mind to take this opportunity and gass them all. He could have, he had the means. But no..  That would be foolish. The plane would crash and it would be the end of him. It was impossible. So he forced the Scarecrow into silence. Lucky for him he was seated close to a woman who turned out to be afraid of flying. Needless to say Jonathan had been eyeing her ominously the entire flight. … Oh how he’d have loved to conduct tests on her..

Entertaining himself with the memory of this sobbing and hyperventilating woman, he sat in the back of a cab who brought him to his destination. A rather odd but definitely prominent building. … The Secret Intelligence Service. Curiosity alone and the promise of a very good deal alone had brought him here.

Jonathan moved in to the reception. He asked for the room after which the receptionist smiled friendly and told him to wait while she made a call. Shortly after that two big security men stepped in and seized his arms, dragging him away into an elevator. … Jonathan didn’t like being manhandled. Or rather said, Scarecrow didn’t. And Jonathan was powerless to stop him from taking over.
“Let me go now, if you value your lives! Do you have any idea who I am!? I am the master of fear! Tyrant of terrors! I will make you scream until there’s nothing left of you! I will..-”

As soon as he was pushed out of the lift and the guards let go, Jonathan seized back control, hissing at his counterpart in the back of his head to behave himself. One of the guards started to pat him down for weapons. Clenching his fists together, Jonathan had to force himself to resist the urge of gassing them with fear-toxin this instant.
The guard found nothing, however. Of course he wouldn’t. Jonathan was too smart for the likes of him. The guard stepped back and motioned him to the door.

“Mr. Holmes is waiting for you inside.”

“He’d better be,” was Jonathan’s ice-cold reaction, before straightening his tie and stepping inside.

As he did, he could see on the look of the man’s face that he wasn’t entirely what he had been expecting. Because though he was known as the Master of Fear, he didn’t look too intimidating right now. He was just a regular nerdy type; almost impossibly thin, pale, dark combed hair a clean brown suit and wire-framed glasses. But behind those glasses rested a pair of piercing blue eyes that, with the right intent, could send chills down the spine of even the bravest of people, with dark circles under them. And in the right lighting, the bony structure of his face could resemble that of a living skull.

“Mr. Holmes,” Jonathan greeted him coldly, approaching the desk to stand in front of it and fold his arms behind his back. He continued to speak in that same calm and calculated voice. “Dr. Jonathan Crane. Before we talk business, I want to give you a fair warning. Your guards did a poor job at patting me down and I’ll have you know that if you try to pull any tricks on me, you will die screaming.”

[Zoewilliams]

Mycroft had raised an eyebrow at this, as the man had ever so boldly barged into the room, declaring threats, and swift to the point. No beating around the bush with this one eh? He never knew what to expect when it came to situation as so, but he unexpected was always to be expected. Dr. Crane appeared...lovely. He could deduce plenty in one look. But that was that really needed when he had a big filing cabinet of reports and goody information on him?

"Screaming?" Mycroft looked thoughtfully, adjusting back in his chair.
Now this was amusing. He had no doubt he could keep that promise. After all, he had been threatened several many times. And the probability was that anyone could own up to their threats if they were sincere enough.

"I would most certainly hope so. After all we wouldn't expect a pleasant death now would we?" He smiled. But the small expression slipped across his lips as he he unslunk from his lounging position and stood up from behind the desk, giving a quick eye over the man before extending out a handshake. "Keeping that in mind, I'll proceed with caution. However I can assure you I have no tricks up my sleeve." He spoke swiftly, the light lipped smile returning once again.

"Mycroft Holmes, if you will. Terribly sorry for the inconvenience, we keep security uncomfortably tight around here, but I'm sure you understand. I'll make a note to have a good word with them, might they cause you any more trouble."

[Edward Nygma]

Crane almost smiled. Meaning there was some humor in his eyes but the corners of his lips barely lifted at all. Jonathan hardly ever actually smiled. Only Scarecrow did that, at the sight of fear. But Scarecrow wasn't in control now. That didn't make Jonathan harmless however.

"Good. Because I do." Jonathan moved his hand in his pocket and laid a cellphone on the center of the table.

"This looks like a cellphone. It's not. It's just the casing. Inside is a fear-toxin that I can release at any moment. It will effect anyone in this room. Including me.. But I built up a certain immunity for it over the years; meaning it will be unpleasant, but I'll live. Unlike you. And I can assure you, it would not be a pleasant death by far."

After placing the cellphone, Jonathan leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other. He cleared his throat and looked at Mycroft with a rather bored expression. "So Mr. Holmes.. Why was I summoned here?"

[Zoewilliams]

Mycroft, DIDN'T like being threatened. However he put up with it for reasons sake. Dramatically, drastically, he rolled his eyes and gave the ceiling a good stare and sigh of, 'oh heaven help me, I'm stuck in a room with an idiot who thinks he's smarter than me,' and truth be told, he NEEDED to be the smart one. After all, wasn't he, the British government, always the clam, cool and collective, man in control? The ice man, as someone maybe say.

"Do these gentlemen look familiar to you?" His lips pressed together as his voice spoke, rather plain and to the point. From the desk, he whipped out two pictures and held them up. No beating around the bush with this one huh?

His eyes squinted over to him, taking in each deduction carefully, what each look read and each facial expression said as he set the photos down to the desk. " I assume you'd recognize them, after all, you won't be here if you didn't. I've been aware on the things you do, Mr. crane. Fear is an incredible thing, a great motivation. If I were to say I this visit was simple an invitation to talk about my interest in your work, might I be lying, so I'll come out and just get right to be point." He paused, falsely smiling for a moment before frowning and looking down to his desk to fumble for some paperwork. "The government and I want to help you carry on with your experiments, in exchange for valuable information on these two men here. I am sure you know them."

[Edward Nygma]

Mycroft didn't respond to his threat the way most people did; the way he'd hoped. The only flicker behind that stare (which almost managed to be as cold and disinterested as his own) was one of annoyance; not fear.

Jonathan could feel the Scarecrow breathe into his neck and rasp into the back of his head to activate the feartoxin and make the man scream. His piercing blue eyes drifted off ever so slightly as Scarecrow shouted abuse at him, but by the time Mycroft grabbed the photo's, his eyes snapped back to him with full focus.

He studied the pictures carefully, even though it took him only a split second to recognize the two figures. He couldn't stop the corner of his lips from tightening as he knew one of them all too well. Mycroft didn't need to know about that, though.

"We're acquainted, yes," he stated simply, looking back up at Mycroft. The idea that the man thought he could get on his good side by flattering was quite amusing; but ineffective. Jonathan only cared for genuine interest.

But.. the offer that followed was an interesting. Inhaling deeply, Jonathan sat back in his chair to look at Mycroft in silence for an uncomfortably long time. He then raised his spindly fingers to remove his glasses and polish them with a handkerchief taken from his pocket.

"I have to admit, Mr. Holmes, your offer does surprise me. What kind of help might I expect? Acces to all the chemicals I need..? A blind eye to how I.. decide to put them to use?" he suggested, putting his glasses back on and giving Mycroft an expression that could almost pass for a smile if it wasn't so menacing. "And what kind of information do you need on mr. Cobblepot and mr. Nygma? It would be a first that anyone outside The United States would care for them."

[Zoewilliams]

"Access to chemicals, equipment, anything you may require to further your studies." He loosely smiled. "Might you need a blind eye, I'm sure we'd be able enough to find you some participants." He leaned back in his chair, adjusting comfortably. The danger of having poisonous toxin eat his flesh off didn't seem too frightening at the moment. But really it was the idea, that this man could possible out wit him, made him furious.

He had took notice of the way he stared at the pictures, only before looking back beriefly. First, amused, second, interest, and the third. Silent. Those where his looks.
In a way, Mycroft Holmes had once trick up his sleeve that Mr crane did not. Observation.

"Might I add, that I don't not care for these gentlemen. I could stare at these here photos, and for hours I'd tell you any important pieces of information about each character the you might find relevant. In person, I could read their past like a history book and tell you anything you want to know. But it isn't these two in particular whom of which I am interested, rather it is the person which captivates their interest."

Taking the file he just placed on the desk, he opened it and took out a photo, his eyes narrowing down to it. "Jim Moriarty." He spoke, voice dark and almost expecting a repeat of the name. He shrugged, and looked away with a dramatic eye roll. Dully, he looked over to him. "Now imagine if I can read these men here, what would that say about Jim Moriarty?" He smiled.

[Edward Nygma]

When Mycroft mentioned just how what the aid in his studies would entail, a glint of interest appeared in Jonathan's eyes and he almost smiled. Leaning forward, he supported his elbows on the desk between them and folded his hands under his chin thoughtfully.

"Consider me intruiged," he practically purred, already considering the possibilities. Getting his lab equipment and chemicals was, after all, one of the hardest parts of his jobs. On more than one occasion that's how Batman managed to track him down. Or it was while he was trying to steal money to be bale to afford it.

The comments regarding how far his knowledge could extent about Edward and Oswald brought Jonathan to purse his lips amused. "Oh I don't know.." he commented almost playfully as he looked at Edward's picture, a bit of Scarecrow peeking through his tone of voice. "I'm sure there's a thing or two I'd know that you wouldn't be able to read in these photos."

Of course he didn't bother to elaborate on that. As Mr. Holmes made very clear, it wasn't that kind of information he was interested in. And so the pictures were replaced by a new one. "This one I don't know," Jonathan concluded, looking at the man on the picture. It seemed Mycroft had counted on that already though, because he already told him his name on his own accord.

Jonathan looked up at Mycroft and lifted an eyebrow unimpressed. He was too impatient for games and just wished the man would get to the point already. "What is it this man has to do with Edward Nygma and Oswald Cobblepot? More importantly, where do I come in?"

[Zoewilliams]

Because I'm bored and Moriarty intrigues me, was what he wanted to say.
His lips pursed with a amusement, his smile rather perking up. But then they slid away, his face melting blandly, his eyes darkening as if this was a serious subject. Bored. Anything but bored. This was a serious subject, no time for sass. Instead, he smiled.

"Moriarty is intriquing."

It was the only way to answer the question. If anything, brotherly concern most certainly had to do with this. But then scarecrow would pry and rather than attack Mycroft, he'd aim for Sherlock. He shrugged if off, not bothering to focus on the details to heading down the road of self destructing his brother.

"He is what we call an on the go killer. You call in someone, he gets the job done. There are many bright young faces all over London, murderers, thiefs, killers, criminals. And they all are employed under him. Once, I held him in a room under 48 hour investigation and he simply stared at me, speechless, his eyes cold and gazing at me like death. Whenever he was asked a question, he would just stare at you, coldly, and give you the oddest smile you'd ever receive."

Mycroft made a dramatic face, eyes arching and facial structures frowning. "I believe he is being held captive by them, or perhaps, a figure of interest. Though may he be a monster more than a murder, It is important to keep an out for those two. And that is where you come in."

[Edward Nygma]

Jonathan listened quietly at the description he was given on Moriarty while he kept looking at the photo, trying to construct a clear image of the man. When Moriarty mentioned just why he found him so intruiging, Jonathan merely huffed mockingly however.

"Have you ever been to Arkham Asylum, Mr. Holmes? Because if this kind of behavior fascinates you, you will absolute love it there," he commented, looking back up at him. How many patients had he had himself that would just stare at him in silence when he was a psychiatrist? He couldn't remember. He just knew that if he wanted to, he could get them all to scream and beg for mercy.

"But this Moriarty does sound like he'd be up Cobblepot's league. In either case, their work is similar."

He looked back up when Mr. Holmes told him exactly what he'd be expected to do. Except, it wasn't all as clear as he made it sound. "Beg you pardon, but what exactly do you want from me? Did you just tell me an eye out for those two? Nygmobblepot and Nygma? You want me to protect them from Moriarty? I was under the presumption it was the other way around. See those two can handle themselves quite well. - Or did you just want me to gain intell on what they are up to with Moriarty? You'll have to be specific."

[Zoewilliams]

"No." Mycroft blinked in frustration, swiping a hand over his forehead as he leaned back in his chair. "Gain intel, do what needs to be done. Get on their good side. But if either of them dares lays harm on Mr. Moriarty, I want you to put bullet in their brain and be done with it. Moriarty must be kept alive."

"Might their work be similar, they are both very different beings. While as Mr. Cobblepot and Mr. Moriarty both have their own little collection of followers, Moriarty is respected and feared differently on a level that isn't as equal as Mr. Cobblepot."

Sighing, he licks his lips, eyes closing. "For example," he continues on, tilting his head back in his chair, crossing his legs, "See it as wolves. Two mighty alpha leaders, and if one leader grows weak, the other grows stronger. If the pack senses the leader's weakness, most likely, some will want to run off to the strongest pack rather than fight back for their own. Animal instinct. But it is human nature to be coward."

Looking over to the man across, he smiles and blinks faintly. "In summary, Oswald either wants Moriarty dead or to prove that out of the two, he is the powerful. If Moriarty loses that power, I have no doubt that his fellow wolves may eventually turn against him. Like I said, Moriarty must be kept alive. He intrigues me. Now, the question here which I myself am wondering, why pick a fight with Moriarty when there are plenty of other wolves his size to bully? I suspect there there might have been something between them, a past or person to cause this motivation of needing power. Now I've come to you, to fine that information."

Mycroft makes a smile. "Have I've been specific enough, might we have an agreement?"

[Edward Nygma]

"Is that so?" Crane mused when Mr. Holmes declared Mr. Moriarty was respected and feared on a superior level to Penguin. It wasn't the statement itself that amused him. He didn't know this Moriarty and for all he knew he could be more powerful. What amused him was the way Mr. Holmes spoke of him. More importantly, he was interested in where that fascination stemmed from.

"It sounds like you admire him," Jonathan pointed out bluntly when Holmes finished talking about him. "Surprising; considering your line of work. Then again, also, not so surprising. Always working in secret; behind the scenes. No one knows the extent of your achievements of a daily basis and so you never get the credit. You must have thought about it often.. what it would be like to cross to the dark side, like Mr. Moriarty has. To become like the man you admire. We both know you would be good at it. You'd make a most dangerous criminal. Yet.. there's something that holds you back, isn't there? Fear is holding you back. Tell me, Mr. Holmes ... What is it you're afraid of?"

Jonathan was probably out of line, asking these questions. Especially since it had nothing to do with the matter at hand. But the pyschiatrist in him wasn't something he could just turn off and on. It was always still on.

He leaned back in his chair and regarded Mycroft with a speculating glare. "I see," he commented, before falling into silence again as he contemplated his options. He didn't need long to think about it, though. In fact it was a no-brainer. Sell out his fellow Gotham villains in favor of his research? ... Any day. But.. right now he was still in a position to bargain.

"I believe we do have ourselves an agreement, but I want to add two conditions. One, if I find the help to my research unsatisfactory or I find out you won't uphold your end of the bargain, I will kill Mr. Moriarty myself. Two ... If Moriarty can't die; neither can Edward Nygma. I want him alive; no matter what he has intended for Mr. Moriarty. Do you agree to these terms?"

[Zoewilliams]

Mycroft made a face, a look of sudden seriousness. Except this time the seriousness was on him. He didn't say anything, instead kept a sharp bold eye, glare narrowed.

At the moment, he wanted nothing, and absolutely nothing more than to correct him. Mycroft Holmes, the British government didn't have a dark side, that was where he was wrong. But he wouldn't correct him. After all, had he been right would that mean anything? He feared nothing, and at this moment, he wasn't going to answer any further more question for this infuriating man, mainly because he was the one in control, not him, and now he was doing the thing, trying to switch the situation.

He didn't admire moriary. He didn't want to be anything like Moriarty. Moriarty was a nuisance only kept alive for his brother's sake, and the fact that the majority of his clients where just simple Guinea pigs dabbling in a experimental process. Their deaths would mean nothing, most of them any ways, and most likely, the outcome of lesser crime in London would benefit the British nation. But he didn't admire Moriarty. He was a nuisance.

Well, was, because up until just a few seconds ago, Jonathan had slowly started to add himself up on the list of many nuisances in Mycroft's book of many most most hated and annoying people. which, he'd earn Moriarty's replacement title as nuisance number one.

"Certainly." He grit his teeth. 

He stood up from his chair, adjusting his suit and tie before wavering a hand to usher him out of the room, then exiting.

[Edward Nygma]

Even without smiling, Jonathan managed to look smug as Mycroft replied with nothing but a snappy 'certainly.' He took that as a victory. So he stood up from his chair when he was motioned to, and in the same movement grasped the cellphone casing filled with feartoxin from the desk. He appeared to be moving past him, but suddenly stopped when he was right in front of Mycroft. He casually slid the phone into the inside pocket of his jacket in front of him.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Holmes. I look forward to the supplies and test-subjects. I'll leave a note of demands for the delivery with your secretary. In return I shall give you all the information you need on Nygma and Cobblepot; and I'll keep your person of interest safe. But remember.. Nygma dies.. I kill Moriarty myself. ... Have a pleasant evening."

He was about to be grasped by a guards to escort him outside. But this time he was prepared and he gave him a dangerous glare before they were able to lay hands on him; as if he was daring him to touch him. The guard immediatly stopped in his tracks and gave a hesitating look to his employer. Jonathan just pulled his jacket straight and before the guard could make up his mind on whether he should grab him anyway, Jonathan marched past him anyway and left the building on his own accord.

(OC: to Oswald's mansion)

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