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Fear Feast
Covering the costs for the Goonion had been getting ridiculous. The amount of broken bones after dealing with the bats was getting insane, though a quick successful bank robbing here and there put them back in the Black, he was a lot more in the red than he wanted to be for most of the year.
He just wanted to study the effects of fear, help people through the trauma, since when did he have to start focusing on insurance paperwork and 401ks?
He rubbed his head, knowing he needed to improve his delivery system, make sure he had something solid before he attacked, testing some of his goons was out of the question. Perhaps kidnap some of Joker's goons to do it? No, the bats would still be mad about it… What was the cheapest option going forward? Listening to the goons, seemed when they wanted to do business, looking for yard work, a cleaner, or the likes, they went to Craigslist… alright, might as well. If someone is hired for the test, then the bats couldn’t get mad, right?
Product Testers Wanted
We’re looking for motivated helpers for a pet project!
Why get doused in Gotham while out and about when you can get paid for it?
Have deep seated fears you need a crash course through your therapy on, but can’t afford it in this crippling economy?
Look no further, we are in need of testers to help the masses, with new strains to be tested every day! Please contact below to be put in touch with a representative!
Counter agent to be provided if fear levels reach dangerous levels. :)
…That sounded good right? Straight forward? And if in the long run they were going to get doused anyways, they might as well get paid for it, right? He shrugged as he posted it, the picture he shrugged and posted from different angles of his lab and the comfortable therapist couch with the injections or gas lined up beside it, with a side of tea and biscuits…
Looked friendly enough. He nodded to himself in approval as he posted it for the jobs section before moving away onto his research for further improving the strains he had on the back burner in thought, tapping his hand to the steel counter, thinking about the delivery system of darts for the bats, bastards constantly moving in… perhaps make it more a style that could soak through their skin?
Who was he kidding… who the hell was nuts enough to answer a Scarecrow ad?
👻🐦⬛👻🐦⬛
Yardwork? Yeah he could burn away some weeds at the root in no time with some plasma, but it might mutate it and give it life different than Ivy did.
He’d cleaned out a few hoarders houses, using clones to sort out piles of stuff in manageable piles, and the owners were more happy to part with things when it wasn’t going all to donations to be resold at ridiculous prices where they felt put out completely, so he helped in giveaways, cleaning up a lot of stuff and sending it to those in need all over Gotham, as well as redoing abandoned apartments to prepare them as homes. While taking pictures of their things in repurposed improved homes soothed a lot of them, he left these places to simply be discovered by squatters, so he wasn’t making profit of them really.
In the span of two months since he started that project, he had thoroughly brought two condemned buildings back up to code while leaving them look thrashed on the outside that landlords wouldn’t swoop in on it and gouge their tenants with their prices, and word had slowly spread through the homeless in the soup kitchens, steering those that had some bad luck getting on their feet, adults to one, kiddos to the other one. He tried to separate types of substance users as well so that they wouldn’t cave to each other's crutches.
He couldn’t not help in a city as much in need as Gotham!
He sighed as he rubbed his face looking over the cost of the classes, the parts he needed for renovation… the minimum wage barista wasn’t cutting it.
Problem with having your growth stop at fourteen was that a lot of places didn’t take him seriously for real jobs out in the world, even when he declared it a meta related condition and proved his age, too many were just uncomfortable with it. He rubbed his head, looking for something that would stand out, when he blinked at an ad, by a rogue, no doubt, and read over it. If conditions were long lasting, they’d provide board while working you through it, and if the health issues got to dangerous levels they had a counter-agent ready…
It was sketchy, seeing those metal slab counters was questionable for what he remembered of Vlad’s bases over the years, feeling slight goosebumps…
But $500 was $500. Depending on what strands he tried, it could be more, and what he got from the therapy sessions… he figured rogues were kind of like ghosts… and this situation looked mutually beneficial. Danny could protect others that wouldn’t have a robust system from taking up the ad, and the-field-man could see him squirm… whatever, why not? It had been posted for three months, with updates, probably to the pay and benefits anyways. So, he shot a message of interest.
‘Hello! I’m a new arrival to Gotham as of four months ago, and am curious if any previous exposure to various chemicals shot at me would prevent taking up this tester position, or is it better that you’d get a wide base of research and how the effects would cross over?
Sincerely- Guy Who’s been shot with various glowing substances over the years :) Thanks!’
This guy must have not gotten a lot of takers for his product testing, as he responded less than an hour later.
‘Greetings, HauntedYouth.
Exposure in Gotham to various substances is to be expected, but if you know your history of them to make a complete picture, it would be helpful, either way we are willing to accept. There are no special dietary or exercise requirements needed for this position, and has a starting rate of $500 weekly, depending how long you last, and which strand you take. Are you interested?
Sincerely, the-field-man. You are most welcome.’
He blinked, taking up one of the abandoned places reset to run off the natural ecto as its energy for the building and acting like a filter for the gunk of Gotham at the same time, he didn’t have too much for expenditures with bills, he didn’t need to eat too much, but if he could make a minimum of $2000 a month just keeping up with this… it was a start for those classes towards his doctorate, after getting the place fixed up, afford a better cooling system for the summer, put aside funds for rehab for some of the inhabitants…
‘Very interested in the position, will attach a medical file that may complicate testing results’ He hummed as he sent about the ectoplasmic mutation- perfectly legal now, thank you, along with the lowered heart rate complication that had kept him from going for the space program another year. Denied despite his way better grades, and everything his powers could offer for the stability of a space mission, they just didn’t want to chance it.
He tsked at the thought, but shook his head. Didn’t matter. He was going to specialize in Archaeolinguistics and comparative linguistics. He had the knowledge for dozens of dead languages, he might as well use that and his connection to the dead to show the relation of the human world to get them interconnected to others more thoroughly and deal with xenophobia through the masses; but he had to start somewhere.
So, he found himself walking to an old warehouse in comfortable loose clothes. Sleeveless top for ease of access for injections, and comfortable jeans with a change of pants being jogger shorts if he started running too warm during testing. He was shown in, a couple goons looking weary at the looks of him, whispers of ‘adoption bait’ he soured his face a bit. “I’m twenty two, thank you. I don’t need adoption.” He grumbled lightly as he went to the waiting room for their space to be set up. Soon he was welcomed in by a man wearing a potato sack on his head. Whatever. Gotham took all types. He went over with the man who welcomed him to the leather fainting couch to relax by, as he explained the basics of his power, not to say he was a ghost, specifically, but that ectoplasm was radioactive component in his blood and if he needed it for testing to keep it away from tissue samples or other biomatter to prevent it coming back to life. The man took notes, didn’t seem to question him on it, and got a pre blood sample to compare to afterwards, as well as to attach wires to his head, and ask him about some of his fears.
“Well I mean, I’m afraid of my family dying, that’s a big one for me. Then not that great with humiliation. Also, really not ideal getting my emotions broken down and separated from my body… freaky results, mass deaths. 0/10 do not recommend.”
Scarecrow watched him, hands templed, and took in the basics of his state with it, looking for any lie hidden- why would he care to lie? He helped ghosts on the downlow cross over now. He wasn’t being hunted by the government anymore, but his records as a vigilante were still blacked out in Amity Park thanks to the GIW so it shouldn’t be found too easily either. No real reason to use it against him.
“I see… humiliation is more simply uncomfortable for you, while the effects for seeing some result for the past on the last one brings up your fears for the first? A fear of hurting them yourself, perhaps.”
Danny blinked and nodded slowly. “Yeah… that’d be in there too. Meta crossovers took me on a time travel bullshit ride where I hurt a lot of people. Or… a future me did.”
“I see. Your honesty is appreciated in this, and we’ll wait to dive deeper into this until after you’re under the fear toxin. I’ll be monitoring your heart rate and brain waves to make sure that you’re not having your brain melting or heart stopping, understood? Would a meta collar prevent violent outbursts depending on what your experience?”
“Oh, no, I don’t think so but haven’t tried them either. I did short my powers out right before I came in though, just to be safe. Got three hours before they’ll be a problem. Don’t want to accidentally deck my new psychologist at full strength.” He smiled sheepishly, and the man snorted, guiding him to lay down, cleaning a spot, getting him to talk more about his relationship being confusing with his mad scientist parents before injecting the newest strain of fear toxin right into him. The pinch of it drew his attention, as well as a slight burn of cold through his system from it being kept refrigerated, and Scarecrow encouraged him to keep talking, picturing some of the fights he had with them over the years and let him know when it hit.
“So, like I went on a cross country trip to get these stupid stones together, then my parents found out about the meta abilities I got that they wouldn’t approve of, at least they hadn’t from others with the same abilities, but I didn’t get to find out if they approved of me or not, having to erase everyone’s memories of it since it’d been this whole hunting thing of me as I went for these stupid stones at the same time. So, convince the feds and my school bullies I wasn’t some cool vigilante with a mind wipe then destroy the stones. Top five least favorite days. Mind you this is the same guy that brainwashed me and made me almost kill my bestie too. Hate that guy. Got to go to a sick anime convention and a space launch though, so that made it a bit better. Gothapalooza was pretty funny, should have been held in Gotham, honestly, but them being changed into cuddly plush animals-”
“You’re still not seeing anything?” He gently interrupted, putting up his hand with a frown, looking over his brainwaves, there had been a faint blimp in the stress hormone with the injection, then it just… disappeared and he listened to the kid ranting instead.
“Nothing unusual, no. I mean I can picture that day pretty clearly, but I’m not stuck in that moment or anything.” He watched the doctor bustle around and frown at the amount in the injection he gave him, nodding to him that it was alright as he lined up another injection to his neck, Danny then asking more about his work and hobbies as they patiently waited.
The man tore off his mask in frustration when nothing was happening. “It's like I'm injecting you with saline instead! There's no fear whatsoever! You can't just…be immune!”
Danny watched his frustration as he laid back, hands folded tapping his thumbs to his stomach lightly, pursing his lips.
“You aren't just…vanishing it before it takes effect are you??”
“No sir, the most I might be able to do is stop my heart rate so it doesn't flow more, but I still got a pulse.” He offered out his arm for the man to check, settled back, feeling oddly sated.
“Hm…maybe something is wrong with this strain…” He muttered and got out an older strain, checking off on a sheet how much of what strain he gave Danny to keep a running tab for his pay. Two more strains, even his classic, and Danny just felt good. He groaned, thunking his head against his balled up fist. “I'd like for you to stay here for observation, perhaps it'll only hit you while you're sleeping? have something to eat and get some rest. If your body has a delayed reaction time metabolizing it, i don't want you to overdose and die. That'd waste the research and your therapy.”
“Thank you sir.” He hummed, happily taking a couple biscuits and sipped his now cold tea as the doc dressed up the fainting couch to keep an eye on his state with a bunch of pillows and comfortable blankets, dimming the lights. Danny glanced at the chart owed to him, that initial five hundred already reached. Sweet. He curled up, suppressing a yawn, feeling sated and happy, slightly amused even. “Wonder if Joker venom effect on me is similar…” he muttered as his eyes closed.
Two days later this kid was beginning to wrack up a fortune and Crane had nothing to show for it! He was determined now for the kid to face his fears! He got his permission to put wires poking into his brain to trigger release of the stress hormone and reach the visual cortex for hallucinations. Danny was less a fan of that but the doc should get something for it after all he was putting into this.
He shuddered slightly when it haunted him with the imagery of his family's death, and facing pariah, but that flicker of fear died down quickly too, the doctor frowning in frustration and hooked him up to a gas mask pumping in the fear toxin with Danny taking deep breaths of it, but any spark of fear neutralized as soon as it appeared, even with the imagery.
When his heart rate only upped a couple beats after a lethal dose of fear gas, the man was going nuts.
“You've told me worries of dissection, getting shot at, your core whatever being ripped apart, facing your evil self, getting stuck In a Christmas rhythm story, humiliation, not being good or fast enough and it's just…. None of these are triggering the toxin! How…how?!”
Danny pursed his lips letting the guy go through his meltdown, finding it hilarious that he was accidentally vexing this guy by how he was just cooperating.
“I mean…I could just be immune?” He offered, and the doctor smacked his hand on the wall, determined.
“Well I have to find the work around! If Superman can fall to my fear gas, a meta from Illinois isn't getting around it either!”
Danny just shrugged and ate another biscuit. He wanted to keep paying him when this clearly wasn't working that was his problem.
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Of all the escaped convicts, Dr. Crane had been out for four months without a word, and it was…unsettling. There should have been a gas attack, a kidnapping, something by now. His obsession with others facing their fears was persistent and he had no self control for it, so Tim did a dive into his socials, his cameras, his activity with the Goonion, and eventually he snorted at the listing, Dick finding him like that for a home visit twenty minutes later, looking at the listing.
“Dude…did Crane really make a Craigslist ad?”
“That seems to be the case. From the comments I found on it he got a few trolls not even from Gotham asking… haven't accessed his inbox yet though so he might have gotten a few takers.”
“Do the takers realize that after he perfects it on them it'd be released on the masses?” Dick crossed his arms with a frown.
“Most likely…and the chances that someone is volunteering themselves instead of someone else is about a thirty percent chance. If a rogue has incompetent goons I could see them sending them to earn some lost funds back. Or a pimp may send his ladies that aren't profiting enough… then again the amount of homeless kids, drunks and druggies that would answer to this would be up there too considering they get hit with doses of this stuff in the crossfire anyways and would at least get aftercare in this situation would be up there… if they have access to phones to see and respond to the ad in the first place.”
“Well, we should see who has answered and try to get a man on the inside to see exactly what he's up to… bat Is paranoid that he's preparing for a mass attack over Gotham, even partnering up with someone for it.”
“I'll send in an acceptance for the work, go in undercover and see what's going on, while getting into his emails and see who's answered…”
Three days later, Tim was confused as he looked at the rejection letter for him and the inbox for the doctors emails, he had trashed up to sixty requests, that he was booked up on patients for now and would get back to them another time, he tried looking for who was accepted at the beginning, but it was either long enough ago that the trash had gotten deleted from the cloud or that it was done in person as he saw nothing that stood out. The initial posting was made shortly after he’d escaped that four months ago. From what he was able to read off that wasn’t deleted from the comments, he got a lot of trolls, but he had found enough willing for it to turn down this many people so… he had to wonder where the hell this was, and if they could get a hold of the newest anti toxin made to counter it before Crane could hit the streets with it… but there was so many rejections he had no idea where the accepted ones were at.
With that many desperate people and how many were turned away, they had to be coming and going from somewhere though. He searched for abandoned buildings or warehouses that had Dr. Crane’s style to it, and only came up with two locations, right next to each other with enough activity to think he’d be set up there with so many volunteers. Checking it out though, he found apartment complexes that instead of being refitted for goons and experiments, as soon as he stepped inside, he felt how it was incredibly cozy, warm and full of delicate care. He saw a donation box towards the front, a guide with a map where the local food banks and job fairs were, as well as classes that were provided free of charge. He walked floor to floor slowly, undercover with a brown wig and eye contacts. He saw how each floor the doors had white boards hanging from them with names of the tenants, or they simply said ‘Occupied’. On the back of signs for unclaimed rooms, there were keys taped to the back to allow whoever needed sanctuary entry and to safely lock themselves inside. A bit trusting for an average tenant, but he made his way further up, fascinated that such a large complex was somehow off the grid. He followed the lines for the generator up to the top floor, finding a door with ‘Maintenance’ on the door. Poking his head in, he found that the place was empty of inhabitants currently, letting him poke his head around, there was an advanced system for security, showing where there was lock-down for each floor, sensors for rogue attacks to close off the building for those inside. There was a decontamination station set of blueprints, presumably to set in the entry hall to suck up rogue gases and spit it back outside. It was…a pretty unique design he had laid out. All ran by the one tenant that had outlasted the others, a ‘Daniel’ who everyone insisted had to still be a teenager lying about their age.
As he went snooping, there was the crackle of a speaker, and his eyes flickered, noticing a light in the top corner, cameras that were on, watching the room. He’d seen familiar out in the halls.
“Hello! Sorry, that room isn’t open for occupancy.” There was someone sounding a bit amused on the other side, but like they’d hurried to answer at the same time.
“Sorry man, we were looking into a place and were told that this was where the guy in charge was?”
“Sure, not a problem! Hi, my name is Daniel Fenton, I’m saving up with everyone here to buy off the building from the property owners. The second floor has the most rooms open, as there’s an issue with the hot water I’m still tracking down. There’s two trigger points on each floor to shut down the building if a rogue attack is in the area that the sensors haven’t picked up on. Building shuts down to protect the tenants, I’m working on getting a decontamination station set up to allow others in for refuge during a crisis as well. What else… Oh! Schedules for the food banks and job fairs are down in the lobby, and if you need anything, paper and pens are in the hall outside the maintenance room to slip a letter under my door.”
Tim hurried to take notes what he could with the info dump from the young man, brow furrowed as he scribbled quickly for how fast Daniel talked left him in the dust. He was glad he had his camera recording at least so he could go back over it. “I… thank you Mr. Fenton. Why are you the only adult in this building?...”
The man huffed on the other side, but it sounded fond. “Brats in the adult section got uncomfortable with my baby face and said someone should be watching over the kiddos anyways. I’ll be home in… three hours?Gotta get back to work, it’s nice to meet you!”
The line garbled hanging up with a second voice faintly in the background. Well, they weren’t any closer to Scarecrow, but a young man genius enough for everything to be off the grid and helping people to get back onto their feet… if he cleared a background check, proper support to stop him going rogue and turning these kids into goons would be worth it. For now, he chose a room on the second floor to keep an eye on this guy.
Oracle looked over the video feed he sent her and did the background check into him. From his freshman yearbook photo to senior photo, he didn’t change a bit as his friends shot up in height around him. His face got more sunken, exhausted. A couple photos of him were in magazines, one where he discovered that one of the last purple back gorillas was the opposite sex and effectively saving the species for now, and the second one was an article on the Fenton family, dissing on the parents and their many safety violations, it calling for the safety of the children to be taken into account to separate these dangerous people. They never were removed from custody, but the picture, he looked haunted and exhausted, his sister positioning herself between her parents and her little brother while they looked oblivious.
Family photos dug up of the group since high school, posted on their weird as hell website for Christmas cards and such, he noted how weary Daniel was, exhausted and keeping away from his parents as much as he could be, thin, with bruises peeking from exposed skin.
As soon as he left Amity Park, he had registered himself as a meta, got himself an acceptance letter to Gotham University, and taken a couple tests to earn some credits, in engineering, archeology, mechanics, aerospace engineering, physics, astrophysics. His senior dream was to be an astronaut, and he had four rejection letters citing his medical conditions as a liability.
His id after signing up as a meta and being away from Amity Park though had brightened him considerably even in his new id for the state.
With a list like that, he could become a reliable specialist, or a very wide range rogue easily. So they started a profile on him just in case.
He waited for three hours, like Daniel had said he would be gone for. Tim watched the entrance, and it seemed that Daniel had finally hit his growth spurt. He was gangly, awkward in his own limbs like he wasn’t used to it yet, but he had a bright smile to everyone he passed checking on the tenants for their state of being, making sure everyone was alright with repairs he had made previously. . He worked his way up the building to the Maintenance station, and beamed spotting him down the hall peaking over. Joy had replaced the tired haggard lines that had carved their way into his face before.
“New guy, right? I’m Danny, coordinator and Maintenance guy.”
“Todd, it’s a pleasure.” He shook his hand, and it immediately made sense why he had registered as a meta. His hands were ice cold. He was extremely lanky, a couple inches taller than Jason, and he had a warm smile that was like getting nuzzled by Batcow.
“Come on in! Folks usually have questions when they first join, wondering about utilities, rent, protection fees.” He rolled his eyes. “I don’t do that. There’s a donation box downstairs for those that can afford a little extra here and there, completely anonymous so there is no pressure, or anyone to think that they have more say over what goes on around here than someone else. Not happening here. We’re all squatters together for Ancients sake.”
Ancients? Odd term, not goddess, fucks or lords..ancients? Hm.
“So I keep two rules that are the only outs I will strictly enforce. You hurt or steal from the tenants here, you’re out. Second one is if someone offers the kids illegal substances, be it drugs, alcohol, I will break all of their bones in their hands and their jaw, and they still get kicked out.” He beamed, the temperature of the area dropping a bit with his eyes glowing an icy blue. “Understood?”
“So.. no one has say, except for you? I get it yes of course but..”
“Hey, I built the generators for this place, and those are two very reasonable rules. So… yeah.” He shrugged as the temperature warmed back up. “Any questions?”
“No sir.” He cleared his throat and forced forward a smile, Danny smiled shaking his hand again, and wouldn’t let him run off without groceries- can shelf stable goods, a casserole, and some very thick fudge.
He took it back to the apartment he had claimed and tested them, all clean, no foreign substances, so he allowed himself a nibble of the brownies, and he had to retest them again how smoothly it melted on his tongue. Damn, that was delicious.
He sent the footage of the place and his interaction with Fenton to Oracle and Batman. That a meta had been quietly amassing this much sway over about 90 people meant they needed to be watched, just in case. Following him was ridiculously easy too. He headed to a monthly rented office space in joggers that were too short but loose on him and a sleeveless shirt, stayed for six hours, and left with long sleeves on, go to a salvage yard or a food bank, get supplies for the apartment complexes, and come back to check on everyone. He followed this schedule for an entire week, no deviations- But his body was still changing. From his calculations by the footage on the guy and tracking him in the street, he gained another couple inches, then started filling out with muscle throughout his frame, and then Tim had to wonder if though he banned the trade of illegal substances if he was a user himself and that’s why he was so touchy about them, or if it was a new thing, his meta abilities, and it was mutating his form.
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“Ohhh, this one’s got quite the nutmeg to it.” He grinned, squirmed a bit in the injection. “Higher hallucination rate with the dose, right? Maybe this’ll be the one, Doc.”
“If you’re able to say that, it isn’t doing it’s job.” Dr. Crane groaned, long forgoing his mask for how often he was pinching his brow. He had taken a few other test subjects here and there to test his new strands and make sure they were actually working, but he’d become completely fixated on Danny.
Danny snorted, recently in new clothes, since he had completely outgrown what he came to Gotham in. He made sure to visit both apartment buildings often enough that they all still recognized him, but they and Crane had been looking at him, funny to be judged by fellow homeless folks and a guy that wears a bag on his head most of the time. But it sent the message well enough. Now in a suit so he looked more professional as well as he
“Okay, this one I’m getting hints of…Stinging nettles? Trying to make me feel ants under my skin or something Doc?” He snickered. “And something else…it’s bitter but I’m not sure what it is.”
“Butchers Broom. Helps with Blood Circulation. Perhaps I can get it faster to your head before your ectoplasm metabolizes it maybe I can get somewhere. The Nettles are for cleansing your system before whatever is left over of all these components in you makes some deadly gas for me instead.”
Danny laughed a bit. “End up being able to skip the health coverage your plan is starting to cover when you’re diagnosing me yourself, Doc.”
“Well whose fault is that for not taking advantage of it?” He snapped, smacking him upside the head lightly. “Children living off of fast food and caffeine then wonder why they’re falling apart by the time they reach thirty.”
“Hey, mine was stupidity of standing inside a portal alright? I fall into both categories of stupid, thank you very much. Oh heeey, this one kinda tastes like apples. Makes me want pie… solid 6/10.”
“Hydrogen cyanide, made by consumption of a large amount of apple seeds, can be anxiety inducing, weakness, confusion… anything yet?”
“A slight high, I think? Like, you put enough in there mixing with the nutmeg pretty sure I would be tripping bad right now as a full human… or dead. Yeah probably dying, maybe not this mix for your consumers.”
“Noted.” Crane sighed, head going back, hair disheveled.
“You know, your hair looks nice, out and wild like that.” Danny wiggled his eyebrows, the doctor putting back on his glasses to stare at him and raise a brow of his own.
“...Thank you?”
“Sure! Say- I’m making enough from this now to get my payments in order for Gotham Uni, aaand I was wondering if to celebrate, you’d maybe join me for dinner? Something small to celebrate.”
“... are you asking me on a date?”
“I mean, you’re hardly my psychologist at this point, how long have we been talking about things and sorting this out, so..?”
“You know I’m one of the most feared rogues of Gotham, right?”
“Paired with the one guy he can’t scare away?” He batted his eyelashes, getting a groan from the doctor again.
“...an ex vigilante that spends his time helping the homeless and recovering drug addicts, interested in a rogue?”
“Oh please, I dated a vigilante that was trying to help kill me, and a ghost who possessed my high school crush to make her boyfriend jealous. I’m not 100% the guy with the moral high ground here.”
