"Oh, you're one to talk," the Scarecrow retorted sharply, an emotion rising in him that he couldn't quite describe. It was a weight nestled in his chest- a creature that had been there for some time, but awakened at just that moment. He leaned forward with a huff, bringing himself only inches from Depth Charge's face, having to look up to see into his eyes. Had he always been that imposingly tall? Or was it only now that the strawman noticed because they were seemingly at odds?

No, they weren't at odds. That's what that feeling was, the Scarecrow reasoned- this was too close to the chest in both a literal and figurative sense.

"You'd know a thing or two about problematic clients, wouldn't you?" He tried to keep his mind focused on the task at hand, but that feeling welling in him refused to back down. Still, they had a job to do- any hidden truth behind their argument would have to wait. "I heard your client has been difficult lately. You act as though you don't care, like not having a heart will help you somehow, and I can tell you right now that it won't!"