Crispin whytehead

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Would you like to remove the listing for and return the item to your inventory? Yet he continued to laugh until his stomach lurched and a cascade of vomit silenced him. He managed to scoot himself away, spitting and coughing as the world slowly came to a halt.

At the same time, a figure that had been sleeping against the opposite wall snapped alert with a panicked gasp. Boyd's eyes blinked separately before recognition dawned upon him. Of course! Gritting his teeth, Loboto shakily began to push himself back upright.

A large hand suddenly clapped against his shoulder, and he gave a yell as he was heaved to his feet. Without turning to look, he struck at the one who'd grabbed him. The two stared at each other for a tense moment, Loboto's eyes glowing harshly as Boyd trembled beneath his gaze. He couldn't help feeling a twinge of satisfaction at seeing his subordinate cower. With a growl, Loboto finally marched past the guard, who frantically closed the gate behind him. Now that that mess was over, he could finally get back up to his lab and get back to—.

His voice boomed through the empty grounds. It was empty of people, now empty of crows, and empty of elevators. When his assistant did not spontaneously appear, he clenched his fist until his knuckles turned white beneath his glove. Fine night for some exercise! He knew his way through his asylum, of course, so it wouldn't be overly difficult, but he would have much preferred the express elevator so he could get back to work immediately.

Turning his optics up, he pressed a hand down into the cap, pulling it away from the plants. He'd hoped to avoid the woman who occupied this corner of the asylum, but as he straightened his back, he bumped into one of the flowerpots, knocking it to the ground with a dull clunk. Gloria ignored the comment, glancing him over and waving him off. I'm not an usher, but since they seem to be ignoring their duties, I'll have to tell you you cannot bring food or drink into the theater.

Swiveling his optics in an approximation of an eye roll, Loboto turned away to head out the other side of the greenhouse. The next thing he knew, he was staring down at an entire line of flower pots that lay in pieces on the floor of the greenhouse. He left her to continue rambling to her imaginary audience as he tried to rid the imaginary nonsense visions, pain, glowing yellow eyes from his mind.

It brought its usual sights and sounds of one of the former orderlies dozing over a makeshift game board with stolen game pieces, he noted , the artist in the room overhead scraping old brushes furiously against a canvas, and finally Crispin standing dutifully in front of the asylum's only other elevator.

Or perhaps you find it funny! Though it is, isn't it? Shouting about sneezing powder and tanks! While he'd been talking, Crispin had been leaning forward, eyeing him up and down.

He frowned. Behind him, Fred sprang to his feet. We have fallen asleep on ze battlefield! Ignoring the man and his terrible French accent, Loboto stepped closer to Crispin, finding himself trembling—in rage or in suppressed laughter or something else, he wasn't sure.

I was, last I checked. Highly trained and professional! It's merely a strappy jacket fashioned from one. He struggled to keep his stomach from flipping again. But you are certainly not Doctor Loboto. I can tell. You don't have the right jacket, or the right complexion. As you can see, you can't fool me. Now go back to wherever you came from and—". He blinked, then shook his head, hunching in on himself. We are in ze presence of a great war hero! He bears ze blood of his enemies upon his robes, and ze scars of victory—".

Loboto whirled on him faster than he could think, managing a swift kick to Fred's shin. With a yelp, the man crashed to the ground, curling up on himself and whining. Ze enemy never sleeps, so neither shall we! Loboto wanted nothing more than to knock Crispin to the ground and find a few bad teeth to remove, but his vision was blurring and flickering, and he found it hard to think. We shall camp here for now, but come sunrise, we fight!

A weak laugh made its way past his lips as he stared down at the former orderly settling on the cobblestone. Yes, that crazy man had a point. It is unknown if he managed to escape the asylum before its destruction. Once a former mute, Crispin speaks in a quiet and mannerly tone. Crispin is a bitter and sadistic person. It is never shown why he was sent to the Asylum, or why he was temporarily catatonic. He has the most wild laugh out of all the characters when tickled with the Crow Feather.

Crispin is a short man with greasy, bluish green hair. He has an enormous forehead and a protruding brow. He has one crooked tooth sticking out of his mouth. He wears an Orderly's coat over his straitjacket, with orange and purple patches sewn on the elbows. His sneakers are red with white laces. He wears green and black striped pants. He has cloudy blue pupils. Crispin is the elevator guard and won't let anyone who isn't Dr.

Loboto use it. Unfortunately, Raz needs access to the elevator to reach Dr. Loboto's laboratory.