Jaclyn Crane

(( I will reply soon… I watch a toddler all week so my brain is fried most nights. ))

“Maggots.” “…Was that not a riddle?”

“More of a compulsion… addiction. An unfortunate side effect to frequent exposure and self-experimentation with my own Toxins.” “I have no addendum on the sadism, however.”

“You have better odds of finding a unicorn with Diamond saddlebags with $35,000,000 in solid gold bars that can speak Sanskrit and Sumerian fluently.”

“Oh, I have been. The food is terrible.” She snorts, “Held it together? That’s incredibly generous, if not utterly delusional. Gothams anthem is a nightly symphony is screams and explosions.” She claps, her tone mocking, “Bravo. Good work. It is the epitome of a Utopia.”

“Our desired outcomes differentiate exponentially. You have a conclusive goal in mind. My goal is to push the limits of human mentality.” “I wonder how effective you would be if you abandoned such trivial and self-imposed limitations, Mm?”

“As have I. I believe my concoctions pack more punch than, well, you.”

“…That looks like my work.”

She’s banned from the Catholic Church. It’s just seltzer.

“That does sound like a blue collar job description, though.”

“I think you have the wrong sociopathic doctor with an addiction to fear and caffeine, Ghoul. My name is not Samantha.” “Shoo.”

“There’s far too many heroes around. What on earth do you lot do when you are not pummeling citizens? Do you not have day jobs? Hobbies?” “Honestly.”

“Oh, any day now, I have put in all the right calls. Two-to-five business days…” lithe fingers grasp the woman’s shoulders a bit too tight, Crane’s voice like a pure, “But I /do/ happen to have an opening, my dear.”

“I am, actually. I have several masters in both psychology and neuroscience. Though, I specialized mainly in psychosis and fear.” “…As for my certification to practice… that is currently… suspended.” She huffs. “But a sculptor of minds needs no permission, only chisel.”

She sighs, glancing around for potential vic-… patients.

“Come now… it is /healthy/ to talk about such thing. The consultation are free and I do not even prescribe anything unless… necessary.”

“Care to explore those memories?”

“Define ‘something’.”

“Impressive. Perhaps my intellect skipped a generation with her mother, hm?” She admires the drawing despite the mocking, “I shall hang it next to Jane’s…” She pauses to listen, only to add, “Ah. I think you will be fond of Starlight Glimmer once you reach that season.”

She mindless mouths the theme song, word for word, before realize she was being spoken to, “Oh, God, you are still alive? I thought I smelled mediocrity and cheap whiskey.”