notmydiagnosis | (no subject)

The smug smile was impossible to move off of Crane's lips as he lead his new found 'bodyguard' in. He'd wanted someone that could stand up to Batman, and he'd found it in the Slayer known as Tillman. Of course he'd need to research how, exactly, Castle got him to respond to commands in a just fashion but Crane had no intention of controlling the other. It would be a waste of time. No, he just wanted a guard that had hopes of keeping his business uninterrupted.

Crane's abode, like how he dressed, was purposely mute, drab, and intentionally simple. Crane didn't want to step out or be noticed--he spent most of his life trying to avoid it. Trying to avoid his vast intellect. He didn't bother to check if Tillman was coming in--he knew he was trailing behind him.

Crane had released Tillman, true to his word, the very next day. He'd silently driven the other towards his abode, saying very little but instead watching him closely. He didn't trust Tillman--and knew the other most likely distrusted him as well. If he was smart.

"Your new life begins. I wish I could let you rest in something other than a cell, but we have work to do."

Threaded | Flat

Tillman did not say much on the ride over. His headache was gone and he had rested quite a bit in preparation of the day ahead. He scanned the streets, the people on them, watched in the passenger side mirror for tails. He was alert and certainly suspicious of the man seated next to him, but was more intent on the job at hand. Admittedly, it was also nice to see the outside world again.

"I'm used to it," Tillman grunted as he surveyed the room. His posture was military, his movements calculated as he sized the space up. "What supplies do I get?"