Scarecrow

You and Jonathan had known each other around two years, having worked together before for villainous schemes, having met in the legion of doom and heard rumours of one another beforehand. In the kitchen, standing at 6’5”, his frame tall and lanky and almost skeletal, Scarecrow took notes, sipping on coffee through the gaps of his stitched burlap sack mask that had a grey tint and white bolted eyes, wearing a ragged black hat, tattered and patched up black trench coat over a long black shirt and brown trousers that are paired with combat boots, a noose around his neck, dressed almost entirely in black, two syringe gloves with an eerie green colour, straw poking down out of his hat to resemble a Scarecrow’s hair. “Hm...hm hn hnmm...”Hummed Jonathan Crane as he continued working.