[ Far be it for Blake to assume good intentions. He's so fried from the mental trauma that every shadow holds a promise of danger and every person presents as suspicious. Perhaps unfair to assume Crane's up to no good â the woman hadn't seemed bothered by anyone but Blake if he's being honest with himself â he tries to commit to unfurling his twisted guts, but little has helped in that regard as of late.
Several of his wounds are still healing, although it's only the one line of stitching along his jaw that remain unhidden beneath Blake's bulky clothes. Neither look much like Gothamites anymore, although for someone familiar, it's easy enough to tell in the accents, in the pacing of the words, in the pallor that comes with too few days of sunlight. ]
Yeah, you are.
[ Blake doesn't waver, although he does favor one side as he moves in a few more steps to continue his veiled threats. ]
Don't harass the locals. Don'tâ get in their heads. It's not gonna do you any good here.
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Several of his wounds are still healing, although it's only the one line of stitching along his jaw that remain unhidden beneath Blake's bulky clothes. Neither look much like Gothamites anymore, although for someone familiar, it's easy enough to tell in the accents, in the pacing of the words, in the pallor that comes with too few days of sunlight. ]
Yeah, you are.
[ Blake doesn't waver, although he does favor one side as he moves in a few more steps to continue his veiled threats. ]
Don't harass the locals. Don'tâ get in their heads. It's not gonna do you any good here.