The uncomfortable weight in his lap made him bristle, dirty gloves squeezing his cheeks hard enough to make him frown, eye the thing before them with some contempt. A god on strike and no one can die... Hum. He'd seen stranger, though none of that had been actually real; he was desensitized to say the least.

Crane glanced to Harvey from the corner of his eye then looked to Joker, frowning. Nothing needed to be said, his expression spoke loud and clear: Get off me.