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File: GothamBeatCopFive (1).png (123 KB, 1000x1320)
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'This is fucked.'

That's all you can think as you slink back into the alley, careful to keep from making any unnecessary noise during your retreat, your best bet is to hide and hope that Hawthorne gets back with a car before someone rats you out or you get found by complete accident. You take a few moments as you crouch behind a dumpster to lick your fingertips and get to work rubbing the drying viscous blood from under your eye. Maybe you pushed yourself too far in the process of shifting your conscience through the city, before it's all come to you like trickles from a stream, the difference this time is that you stuck your head in the proverbial river. A few wet blinks clear away the feeling of a gunked up eye but you're positive it's still bright red and the people getting contacted probably have 'guy with a fucked up eye' as the main identifier.

The voice from earlier brings your attention right back to the goons standing in the road.

"Alright, Donnie. We got a few of our guys on it now."

"And the boss isn't gonna find out?"

"No, Donnie. Unless you go and tell him something he don't need to know."

A few moments of pregnant silence hang in the air.

"Donnie? I don't like it when you don't answer me. You ain't gonna say nothing to the boss right?"

"Of course not!" The voice replies with an echo of fear.

"Good. Because we both fucked up in that café earlier and you know what that means."

"It means we both get punished.."

"Exactly, and the last guy who pissed off Cobblepot ended up getting fed to uh.. to sea lions! You don't want that do you, Donnie?"

"N-no!"

"I won't let that happen, let's just find these two clowns and rough em up. Break their legs maybe, nothing crazy. Just to send a message."

"Okay, yeah good..."

"Donnie, what is it? I see you squirmin."

"Can I?"

"Oh for fuck sake. Yes, Donnie."

You close your eyes and fight back another wave of migraine pain. Cobblepot, The Penguin. His goons are watching the streets around the club, but why?

You have no time to mull it over as foot steps begin to click approaching your alley. You hold your breath and remain still as a photograph until another sound echoes off the old brick. A zipper, splashing liquid, and a contented sigh of relief. This has to be a joke.

>Hold your position, there is no reason to blow your hiding spot now. Not until you get word from Hawthorne.
>This is probably the only chance you're going to get if you want to squeeze answers out of one of these guys. Step out with your gun and catch him with his pants down.
>Getting some answers from this mook would be nice but you don't wanna pull the gun if you aren't going to use it. Make some light noises and see if you can draw him in and wrestle him down.
>Write-In
>>
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For anyone new who is joining us:

PREVIOUS THREADS:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=DetectQM

Current abilities in the picture attached.
>>
>>5920234
>Hold your position, there is no reason to blow your hiding spot now. Not until you get word from Hawthorne.
>>
>>5920234
>Hold your position, there is no reason to blow your hiding spot now. Not until you get word from Hawthorne.
We gotta get the FUCK outta here.
>>
>>5920234
>Hold your position, there is no reason to blow your hiding spot now. Not until you get word from Hawthorne.
Maintain stealth. Damn, is Penguin going to attempt a power play outside while in the meeting? That's gonna be chaos when GCPD arrives to bust them all
>>
>>5920234
>Hold your position, there is no reason to blow your hiding spot now. Not until you get word from Hawthorne.
>>
No.
>>
>>5920234
>This is probably the only chance you're going to get if you want to squeeze answers out of one of these guys. Step out with your gun and catch him with his pants down.
>>
>>5920234
Kinda wonder if we'll ever be able to leverage shivers into a physical capabilities.

I mean putting someone in a hold and telling them exactly why their mother never loved them is one thing. Letting the city guide our movements to not be noticed or predict an attack would be nice.
>>
>>5920234
>>This is probably the only chance you're going to get if you want to squeeze answers out of one of these guys. Step out with your gun and catch him with his pants down.
Just caught up on this, always a fan of anything that involves the use of Shivers.
>>
>>5920234
>>Hold your position, there is no reason to blow your hiding spot now. Not until you get word from Hawthorne.
>>
>>5920543
>>5920268
>>5920266
>>5920260
>>5920253

You let your legs slowly lower you to the ground as you control your breathing and just wait. Donnie wraps up his business and leaves the alley only letting you catch a few more parting words as he heads off with his partner.

"You ready to work now? Jesus Christ, Donnie you're like a child."

"Sorry.."

"Save it, apparently the old fuck who sucker-punched me got spotted. He's making a run for it."

"Well that's good isn't it?"

"Unless he goes and tells Matches who's gonna tell Cobblepot, who's gonna tell HIM, you moron!"

"Oh. Yeah that's not good."

You hear a groan of frustration.

"Christ help me. Donnie, go get the car. I'm gonna let that barista know to keep his trap shut."

You listen intently letting the whispers of the city fall into the background until the absence of all other sound leaves you no choice but to hear it. You let out a sigh of relief and let yourself lean your head back against the wall where the cool brick soothes your hot and aching brain. Something about their conversation plays in your mind. Matches. Cobblepot. Him. Could they be referring to Falcone? or maybe Mandragora? One thing you're sure of is that The Penguin doesn't take kindly to working for anyone, whoever HE is he must be backed by some real heavies to be able to push Cobblepot around.

Suddenly sound returns to the dead street. A sound that to you may as well be a chorus of angels, the sound of a roaring engine and vintage tires taking sharp turns. You peek around the filthy dumpster and see the main road clear of those two from earlier, you stumble to your feet and wander out in time to see Hawthorne's car speeding up to meet you. As he draws in he lays on the brakes and leans across to toss open the passenger.

"Get in, Rook." He yells. You don't have to be told twice, you dive in pulling the door behind you as you both speed off again. The last view you get before blowing past the club is the sight of Donnie who watches your escape with a sheet white face.
>>
>>5921041
>Matches
I see you.
>>
"So they work for Cobblepot?"

"Well yes but, it sounded like someone else was even above him." You groan, letting a pack of frozen peas rest over your eyes. You lay on the couch in the Detective's lounge with the lights off, the faded adrenaline from the drive back to the station revealing a hellish headache

Hawthorne sits in contemplative silence, his only sounds being that of breaking sunflower seeds and the occasional grunt of irritation.

"Well we aren't exactly flush with options." Grey chimes in. "Kimble is still out pressing his contacts but nothing we've heard implies anyone other than the old heads being involved."

"What about that other name I heard, Matches?"

"Matches Malone." Hawthorne replies. "Word on the street was that he relocated to Bludhaven, apparently his last run in with Batman had him a little nervous to be in Gotham."

"But he's back now?"

"Maybe someone has him scared worse." Grey quietly mumbles to himself. You hear the dulled impacts of his shorthand writing on the whiteboard. You can already see the big red question mark he has connecting to all the photos.

"Whoever their boss was they really didn't want to get on his bad side, which is good for us right?"

Grey and Hawthorne both grunt in response.
"We'll have to see." Hawthorne says

"No. WE are gonna have to see." Grey replies. You squeeze your eyes tight, the last thing you want to hear right now is an argument.

"Grey. There is no way I'm gonna sit on the sidelines for this whole thing."

"Mitch, I fucking told you when you got in that it was for admin tasks. Paperwork, research, that sort of thing. Not doing impromptu undercover work, are you fucking kidding me?"

"I figured it was more of a wink wink nudge nudge situation. Besides who's gonna help the rook out when he gets into trouble" Hawthorne replies mockingly.

"Mitch. You are the one who got him into that trouble in the first place, I know you're wanting to get Mandragora. But you know you fucked this."

"I was assaulted and defended myself, cry me a fucking river!" Hawthorne shouts.

You cringe at the explosion of noise.

>Take Hawthorne's side, he is needed on this case and he deserves to be able to go after Mandragora with you guys.
>Take Grey's side, this is the job. Hawthorne getting involved could jeopardize this entire case."
>Stay silent and pray this yelling ends soon
>Write-In
>>
>>5921056
>Stay silent and pray this yelling ends soon
Not our place.
>>
>>5921056
>Stay silent and pray this yelling ends soon
When, not if, we bag Mandragora for good, Hawthorne WILL get that killer blow in on his face.
>>
>>5921056
>>Stay silent and pray this yelling ends soon
>>
>>5921056
>>Write-In
get up and walk out
>>
>>5921056
>>Write-In
>Groan and crawl out of the room
>"Don't mind me guys"
That one anon is right, since Hawthorne is the man posessed, we gotta let him double-tap Mandragora. Or put him in jail whatever it is he wants. Wonder if he'll become chill after we pull it off.
>>
>>5921063
>>5921075
>>5921095
>>5921111
>>5921223

You keep your mouth shut, the only thing passing your lips being a groan of pain when the voices get raised on both sides. This isn't your place to get between these two, you slowly rise from the chair and slowly walk towards the door only keeping a single eye half peeking from the bag.

"Don't mind me." You whisper to yourself as you reach the door.

"Look at that, now the rookie is leaving."

"Maybe because you can't keep the volume down on your yapper!" Hawthorne replies

You sigh and let the glass door click quietly behind you, the sound of their yelling now muted, the nearest armchair becomes your new home. You give the Commander, Commissioner, or Head Detective a silent prayer of thanks. Whoever wanted to prioritize the comfort of people coming in for interviews did you an unintentional solid. It's only just as you tune the bickering out that a new voice pierces your ears.

"They going at it?"

"Kimble.." You grumble.

"You look like shit." He says casually. You chuckle, it sends a wave of ache over your head.

"Feel like shit. Like two spoons are wedged behind my eyeballs."

"Migraines?"

"Not usually. This might be my first."

You hear a puff of air being released from the cushioned seat next to you.
"I'll wait until they get done with that to head in, doesn't look like I got anything you don't know anyways."

"Meaning?"

"Matches Malone is in giant red letters and he has an arrow over him leading to a question mark. So my information is that out-of-Gotham muscle is being brought in and someone even higher than the old big bosses has everyone's nuts in a clamp. That about what you all worked out?"

"Yeah, except it isn't just the old heads. Penguin's in that same clamp with em."

"Son of a bitch." He whispers to himself. "We learn anything?"

"I used my shivers to map the sewers near the club. When I'm less messed up I can start working on mapping it out using Hawthorne's documents he found from City Hall."

"That's some good damn news, Boot. Now pop some painkillers and get to it. That's an order from your TO." You hear the smile creep into his voice as a hard clap on your shoulder rattles your everything. You let out another groan and you hear Kimble rise.

"You. Go get this guy something for his headache and make it strong. Don't forget a water too."

You lift the corner of your peas and see a nervous looking officer nodding in compliance. You let the bag fall back down as the door to the office opens again and you catch another snippet of the argument within. You sigh.
>>
Nearly an hour and more headache pills than directed on the bottle later you end up back in that office space. Hawthorne and Grey making an obvious effort to avoid speaking with one another. Kimble leers over your shoulder as you both try to parse the maps of the sewer network that Hawthorne managed to scrounge together. The large boardroom table is covered in a patchwork of photocopied plans from a time before you existed all held together with an invisible border of scotch tape between each overlapping sheet.

"There are way more missing sections than we thought.." You say out-loud, letting your thoughts spill as you work to sort, mark, and connect city block to city block.

"I would be shocked if most of this wasn't the fault of shithead City Hall gophers. Did you know half of em are interns from Gotham U, completely unpaid and being trusted with shit like this."

"You get what you pay for." You mumble as you drag a thick carpenter's pencil over blank sections of your makeshift map. Kimble offers a few pointers and unhelpful banter but you're lost in your thoughts. The paper, ink, pencil sketches, and Kimble's continuous interjections fade away as you begin to enter a flow state. Your hand just moves on it's own. You don't think, you don't call on the memory from the cafe bathroom, and you don't try to use the surrounding map for context clues or some sort of guide. You simply draw as if Gotham itself were guiding your hand, but was it really? You feel in control. It's only when a hand is waved before your eyes that you blink and rejoin reality.

"Rook." Hawthorne tells you, he and Grey now flanking your sides. "Did you hear me?"

"Uh. No, sir."

"I said you should have gone to art school when you had the chance. This is fantastic."

"With memory like that it makes sense why you're aiming for Detective." Grey says, almost to himself. You can't help but feel like that light in his eye isn't pride. It's suspicion.

You look down and let yourself be impressed by your own work that sense of pride faltering when you have to ask yourself if it really was your doing. Or perhaps you'd surrendered control to Shivers again, like with your 'sleep walking'

>"Thank you, Sir." (Keep this to yourself, you don't need to worry anyone when tension is already high.)
>"I can't really take credit for it, Sir. I think I may have had another blank out. But different."
>"This isn't the full map, just the tunnels themselves. My vision when we were out led me past gates, areas of rushing water, and some other hazards."
>Write-In

NEW ABILITY:

>Remote Viewing: Use your Shivers to attune to a specific location and gain deep insights into it's layout, for now. Though the exact limitations of this aren't fully known to you yet and neither do you fully understand the costs.

QM Note: Be warned, the cost of this ability appears to be incredible strain, even your meditation techniques from John, so use at your own risk.
>>
>>5920471
Appreciate it, anon. Thanks for reading!

>>5920303
Understandable, very sorry.

>>5921044
Whatever could you mean...
>>
>>5921279
>"This isn't the full map, just the tunnels themselves. My vision when we were out led me past gates, areas of rushing water, and some other hazards."
>>
>>5921279
>SewerMapThatReadersDoNotNeedToLookInto.jpg
kek
>"I can't really take credit for it, Sir. That was another shivers blank out. This one is more controlled at least."
Inform them it's a power thing, but don't be dramatic.
>There were other hazards too, will we be sending someone to scout the sewers out on foot before the meeting day?
Can't rely on visions alone after all.

The ability is absolutely busted though. I expect the swat team leader coming to us for a map before every important raid from now on if the word leaks out.

QM, how much detail have we drew? Did we mark all the new things the club owners installed: the escape hatch, etc?
>>
>>5921279
>>"This isn't the full map, just the tunnels themselves. My vision when we were out led me past gates, areas of rushing water, and some other hazards."
>>
>>5921335
Detail is next to nothing except the brief glimpses you got.

Imagine you had an autopilot car that took you through a pitch dark maze, but occasionally it would flash the high beams. But in the end, you get a top-down view of the maze with a yellow line tracking your trip start to finish, but ONLY in the spots you drove through. Alternate exits, where are the dead ends, etc are all unknown to you.

Power sperg below:

This is a very powerful ability, but I feel the drawbacks and limitations I have in mind for it will keep it from being a catch-all problem solver. Interested to hear your thoughts on it with that brief explanation/exposition.

It is also another dip down the Gotham rabbit hole. Keep in mind what Kimble told you about that.
>>
>>5921335
+1
I don't like Grey being so suspicious of us. We're on his side for fuck's sake. We have Disco Elysium Shivers, of course that's going to shove us to detective work by nature
>>
>>5921343
>But in the end, you get a top-down view of the maze with a yellow line tracking your trip start to finish, but ONLY in the spots you drove through. Alternate exits, where are the dead ends, etc are all unknown to you.
Well, not of the "top-down view of the maze" then? Just the top down view of the line itself, without the maze? Like picrelated, but we drew it on top of existing sewer map?
We really gotta send a guy to check, this is unreliable. I kind of fear they have 1 or 2 cameras duct taped to the random corners around the secret exit, to make sure no cops were sniffing around. What to do, what to do.

Also if I understood the ability correctly, we don't actually know what escape route THEY will take, only how to get to the hatch. Maybe there are more paths. There are probably more paths.
>>
Anons, I just wanted to point out that MAYBE we could bring our spandex wearing allies to this stuff. If Falcone doesn't want to leave with a minor slap wrist, maybe the Bat can give him a slap as a warning, and perhaps he can try and search for those other secret routes on the sewers. Nightwing could come to give Falcone the scare of his life and Batman could be fucking him over on other business he might be running, idk, but if you don't want Falcone to come out unpunished then that might be a way: Cripple him so he can't get an upper hand when the rest of the mobsters get out of jail and resume operations.
>>
>>5921279
this>>5921335
>>
>>5921271
I figure Bats is either investigating the same situation, trying to figure out who the new big player is... or Batman HIMSELF is running some scheme to round them up and impose some order. But with all that earlier talk of Father Boxes... Could it be someone extraplanetary? Most intergalactic powers wouldn't give two shits about the Gotham mobs, but Apokalips gets off on that sort of decadence and corruption, and Batman is a big enough deal to irk Darkseid personally.

>>5921436
Batman can't be there because Matches is, not that we know that. I like Q and Huntress more, anyway in the context of this quest, at least; give THEM the bust, if anyone.

>>5921279
+1 to >>5921335
>>
>>5921279
>>"This isn't the full map, just the tunnels themselves. My vision when we were out led me past gates, areas of rushing water, and some other hazards."
>>
>>5921279
>>"This isn't the full map, just the tunnels themselves. My vision when we were out led me past gates, areas of rushing water, and some other hazards."
>>Write-In
>"Downside, this vision makes me feel as though I have shoved this pencil through my eye repeatedly."
>>
>>5921373
Is he suspicious of us or just suspicious in general? He's been clashing with people lately and i feel like out of the entire 'secret taskforce' for SIM he's the one with the least skin in the game
>>
+1 >>5921335


>>5922653

yeah and isn't he the lead detective on this case?

though his suspicion is warranted DL just whiped up a full sewer map of the area in like what an hour or few, when he showed no sign of being able to do that.
>>
>>5923572
It took way more effort + bleeding eye + being at the right place
>>
>>5923575
your right, we know he is suspicion but what brought that on?
is he just jealous, or does he suspect us of something?
>>
>>5921335
>>5921373
>>5923572
>>5921694

"I can't really take credit for it, Sir. It was another shivers blank-out but not that serious, just kinda felt like when you really focus on something."

Hawthorne grunts and nods.
"You keep picking up nifty tricks, Rook." He says with a friendly tap on your back.

"Any other details?" Grey asks you, leaning in and letting his eyes scan the map. "No offense to you but it's a little sparse looking."

"Can't rely on visions alone, there were other hazards when I was 'feeling it out' but nothing too serious except for some rushing water and a couple of gates."

He frowns.
"I'll have to talk to the mayor about getting a copy of city custodial keys, in the meantime Kimble I want you to go pick your favorite footman and bring me a list for approval."

"The Commander greenlit a team?"

"He's with us on getting a search team together and diverting a few patrolman for the operation to hold perimeter."

"And SWAT?" Hawthorne asks.

"Still in the air but I'm working on it."

Hawthorne grunts.
"I could lend a hand I guess." He grumbles. "Few guys on the team still remember me."

"That would be a help." Grey replies. Hawthorne grunts. A few moments of pause Kimble lets out a sigh.

"I guess that means I'm back to walking and talking then." He stands with a groan and gives you a nod.

"What about me?" You ask nobody in particular.

Hawthorne and Grey both look to you then each other.
"Bleeding eyes are usually a reason to go home, if you wanna head out I won't blame ya. You did good work today." Grey tells you. Hawthorne nods in agreeance.

>"I could help you out if you need anything, Grey." This could be a good reason to see if he'll spill why he was looking at you like that earlier.
>"I could help Kimble out with finding some officers for perimeter and sewer duty, I know a couple guys."
>"Do you need any help with the SWAT guys, Sir? I already spoke to someone who said they were your old commander."
>"Thank you, Sir. It'll be nice to have some time off." (Contact Huntress and Q?"
>Write-In
>>
>>5923843
>"I could help you out if you need anything, Grey." This could be a good reason to see if he'll spill why he was looking at you like that earlier.
>Send a text to Q to have a meet-up and chat later, after work
>>
>>5923846
+1
>>
>>5923843
>"Thank you, Sir. It'll be nice to have some time off."
>Schedule a meetup with Huntress and Q. They could be invaluable in the upcoming sting operation.
>>
>Supporting >>5923860
>>
>>5923846
Supporting
>>
>>5923843
Wasn't bleeding what got us off duty before?

Best 'play it safe' and work on something else
>>
>>5923914

Previously you were put on mental health leave because you were wandering around a crime scene in a trance stepping on things.
>>
>MEANWHILE, INSIDE OFFICER DELUCIA'S NOTES...
>TO-DO LIST:
>look into weighted blanket for shivers
>get new locks and bars for the windows
>find out where those charms were placed
>stop fucking bleeding everywhere
>>
+1 >>5923846

>>5923860
I agree we should meet with Q and Huntress after work thy would be invaluable.
>>
>>5923860
+1

Let’s take a goddamn break.
Also we haven’t heard from the schizos in a hot minute, wonder what they’ve been up to?
>>
So is Huntress considered a "verified" vigilante like batman? Or she's a no-no woman because of all the killing she does?
>>
Talk to Grey:
>>5923846
>>5923847
>>5923869
>>5924000

Take Off Now:
>>5923860
>>5923863
>>5924097

Text Q and Huntress:
Unanimous.

Writing.
>>
"I could help you if you need anything, Grey." You offer. Grey doesn't reply immediately as he takes a few moments to gather some papers. You take the chance to slip your phone out and fire off a quick text message:

'Been a while, pizza tonight?'

As you pocket the phone a box filled with papers is pressed into your chest, you wrap your arm around it and shift it to your side to make room for the follow up box you know is coming.

"You taught him that rookies carry the paperwork?" Grey asks Hawthorne.

"He's a quick study." He replies, his eyes glued to his phone screen as he taps out a message of his own.

Grey grunts out a reply before nodding towards the door for you to follow. You end up in a room you've never seen before, rows of filing cabinets stretching wall to wall with barely enough space to squeeze through while stacks of paper sit loosely bound with a series of binder clips, rubber bands, and some just leaning precariously against a wall. You let your gaze wander over the bureaucratic ocean in front of you. You're led to a small clearing in the paperwork and cabinets.

"Set the boxes down here, I'm gonna be in late digging through all our personnel records." Grey sighs before pulling a seat out and gesturing to it. "Take a seat, Mark."

You furrow your brow and lower yourself into the cold metal chair. Grey leans against the edge of the table and his eyes wander the room.

"Sir?" You ask him after a few moments of uncomfortable silence. "Is everything okay?"

He takes a deep breath and finally faces you, his face cold and analytical.
"Mark, you're a solid cop from everything I've observed. A little naĂŻve at times, a little too quick to get into it, but all in all. I think you have the fundamentals, the rest we can work on with your training."

"Thank you, sir?"

"I'm bringing this up because I want to know what you want."

"In what way, sir?"

"What you want from this department, from the case we have building concerning the old bosses of Gotham, and from your side activities." He says the final word with a flat tone hiding all inclination in his voice. You've read these techniques, he's soft grilling you.

"Well, Sir. I've wanted to start working towards detective, when I'm a little less green."

He nods.
"Are you sure?"

"I'd say so, sir." You reply flatly.

He grunts and lets his eyebrows pop for a moment in surprise.
"Do you know how Hawthorne and I became friends?"

"No, sir. I always assume you met on the force."

"Before that even." He mumbles pulling a small foil pack from his pocket and tossing a small piece of gum into his mouth. "We were academy rats together back when the police were the problem half the time. Most of my Senior Officers were on the take and half of my graduating class dropped the job or dropped dead within a couple of months."

He takes a moment of pause, his mind floating to a distant memory, you feel the hairs on your arm raise and a small twitch in the back of your throat.
>>
The smell of paper and ink in the room is replaced, only for an instant, by the scent of gunpowder and copper.

You clear your throat to scratch the itch and that seems to rattle Grey from his memory.

"What I'm saying. Is that back when I was where you are I only had one person to rely on and so it's kind of my second nature to look out for him."

"Look out for him? What does that mean?"

He looks to you again and holds your stare.
"I'm not sure you're the best influence for him, Mark. I think he might not be the best for you either."

"Excuse me." You state.

"You remind him of when he was young, of when he could do certain things that he can't do anymore, and it's undeniable. This side project, I'm in it to make sure he gets through, it's something he should have never gotten involved in and truth be told, I can't even blame you, it isn't your fault. Mitch has always been this way, he's the kind of man who matches his partner's energy. For better or worst."

"Grey, all respect intended but Hawthorne is his own person."

"I know. I am painfully aware of that fact." He takes a moment and sighs. "You want to be detective someday? This is it." He stands, arms outstretched.

"The file room?"

"The fucking file room." He says quietly. "Detective work is done in your head, on paper, and very rarely on the streets. Detective work is not doing some jump out boy shit that barely flew thirty years ago! It is not saving people. It is solving problems and puzzles and spending long nights alone with nothing but your mind and the facts. Hawthorne and I went different routes, he couldn't give up the rush of being on the street."

"What does that have to do with our 'influence' on each other?"

"Mark. If he keeps trying to keep up with someone like you he's gonna slip. I've been following your career and it's already impressive for such a green cop to have saving the mayor under his belt on top of everything else, you're a prodigy approaching your prime."

"What does that make Hawthorne?" You ask, insulted on his behalf.

"Same as me. A relic. A relic with not much left except the job and his friends. If he keeps following you around he's going to slip and I don't know if he get's back up from that kind of fall. Not anymore."

"He's tough."

"The toughest.." He says to himself. "But there comes a point that being tough isn't enough anymore, the things Hawthorne can teach you are gonna make you a good beat cop or door kicker. But he's teaching you the old way and you just go along with it because he's your superior, the lessons you are learning are from a different Gotham."

"So what does that mean? Someone else should be handing me these lessons? Like you? Or Kimble?"

He sighs.
"No, you're a different breed of cop, Mark. The droplet before the storm."

"Because I'm meta?"

He shrugs.
"Because you're the first in the new age of Super-Cops fighting Super-Criminals. I just want my friend to make it out without becoming a lesson for you."
>>
Your phone buzzes. You give it a quick glance and see a simple thumbs up emoji.

You look back up at Grey grasping for something to say but he holds up a hand.

"Just promise me when we finish this SIM project that you'll keep Kimble as your TO. I already know Hawthorne has been working behind your back with the commander to try and get himself reinstated. When the time comes and they ask you, I just want you to let the man finally get some rest." His eyes bore into you with a mixture of pleading and cold analytics as he tries to read your expression. Something about the way he accentuates the word rest and his overall demeanor has your mind turning. You feel a twitch in your forearm and a cold spreading beneath your skin.

>"Sorry Grey, Hawthorne is his own man. If he thinks he has more to show me and teach me then I'm obligated to take his lessons."
>"I'll think about it, I just gotta get out of here now."
>"I didn't realize he was pushing himself so hard to try and keep up with me. You might be right, it may be better to learn from someone who has some more modern experience."
>"No offense intended, Sir. But I didn't ask for this lecture or your advice. I appreciate your concern for Hawthorne but as long as I'm around nothing is gonna happen to him."
>Write-In (Encouraged)

I'd very much so like to hear your guys thoughts on this entire exchange.
>>
>>5924726
>"I'll think about it, I just gotta get out of here now."
He raises good points and, yeah, the longer he's in our orbit the more likely he'll get hurt. That's true practically (IC logic) and on a meta(heh)fictional level, since being in the story more during pivotal scenes means it's more likely he'll get 'fridged' or die a tragic side-character death. But this Mandragora case is his baby, too. For that reason:
>"But Grey? Let him finish this Mandragora business. He needs this."
>>
>>5924726
>"You expect me to just drop it on him like that? Look, I get where you're coming from. Hell, you aren't even the first to give me this lecture, but I'm gonna at least talk to him about it before push comes to shove."
>"It might be a pain for the both of us, but I promise I'm not just gonna roll with whatever he says off the bat. I owe you and him that much at least."
>>
>>5924727
supporting
>>
>>5924726
>>5924727
+1
>>
>>5924727
+1
>>
+1 >>5924727

he brings a valid point, but we should talk to our work father about it, not just throw him to the side, the best point to really talk to him about it and a way I see him accepting it is right after we bust Mandragora's balls.
>>
>>5924727
+1
>>
>>5924727
+1
This is bad anons. Fictional cops are in the most danger right before retirement.
>>
>>5924726
The exchange was very good.
The dialogue in this quest is second to none QM.
>>
>>5924877
imagine we lose him right before we are able to bust Mandragora...
>>
>>5924950
>Swear we do it by the book as he lays dying
Reminds me of this
https://youtube.com/watch?v=nXf7HC7iYEY
>>
>>5924952
origin story
>>
Just read through the archives. We ever bring up Will Church to Hawthorne? About how Will asked us to tell Hawthorne to come around sometimes and wouldn't get on his back about his age anymore?
>>
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>>5924727
>>5924746
>>5924770
>>5924775
>>5924797
>>5924859
>>5924877

"I'll think about it, I just. I gotta get out of here." You waggle your phone and Grey gives you a disappointed but understanding look.

"All good, DeLucia. Just think about it.

"I will." You tell him, your mind already turning over his words and finding a concerning amount you agree with. As you reach the door you turn the handle and pull only to leave it open as your mind continues to work.

"Grey?" You ask over your shoulder.

"Yeah."

"Let him finish this Mandragora business. He needs this."

Grey's eyes invoke a very specific brand of sorrow in you. Just from his face alone you can tell there's so much he'd like to say but he, instead, leaves it at:

"I know."

================================

Nearly an hour and a half later you find your old car pulling into a familiar back alley, your headlights cut off before you even entered, the quiet crackle of loose stones and old debris under your tire are all that betray your arrival. As you pull around something new in the front window catches your eye.

'HELP WANTED'

You frown and let out a sigh through your nose. Atop the dumpster is a familiar fedora, this time in a light cream color, sitting on a pile of greasy cardboard boxes is your favorite faceless vigilante. He holds a small notebook in his hand and scribbles on it with a long broken pencil.

"Officer." He says quietly as you step out. "Glad you reached out, I had some things to share with you."

He stands from the now indented box tower and tears a sheet handing it to you. A small address in neat font is scrawled across the striped paper.

"An address?"

"A meet place for Hatchet Men, Huntress got it out of a friend."

"A friend?"

"She met him at work." He remarks dryly.
>>
"I won't ask." You tell him. He only grunts.

"I was hoping to see you to pass this on but why call me out, do you have something, Officer?"

>"I was hoping you could help me out with a case actually regarding this meeting between the Crime Bosses."
>"I was hoping to help you and Huntress out with something, work a little more outside the office."
>"Honestly, you got time to just..hang out? Grab a beer or something, you wanted more time out of the mask right?"
>Write-In

Sorry for stilted posting. Work got weird.
>>
>>5925650
>"I was hoping we could help each other out regarding this meeting between the Crime Bosses."
Give a little, get a little. They watch our back and catch that sleaze Maroni on his way out, but some fear into him where we can't so he knows that even if the cops are giving him a 'slap on the wrist', that's not carte blanche.
>>
>>5925650
>"I was hoping you could help me out with a case actually regarding this meeting between the Crime Bosses."
>>
+1 >>5925659
I agree but we should be extra careful not link ourselves with his capture wouldn't want any future crime bosses not trust us to out their own guys to be the top.

>>5925622
I'm curious about the woman that shot herself, if we pursue that case we might get actual dirt on Mandragora to put him away for life, and we do it by the book, though we have to be extra carful not to tip any one that we are looking into it, not even our very creepy definitely not the SIM killer, rookie friend.
>>
>>5925650
>>"Honestly, you got time to just..hang out? Grab a beer or something, you wanted more time out of the mask right?"
>>
>>5925659
>>5925787
>>5925808

"I was hoping we could help each other out."

"You know me, Officer. Always willing to lend a hand. What's it regarding?"

"The Crime Bosses of Gotham are meeting."

"At the Tobacconist Club, correct?"

"That's right, guessing you got some of that from the goons you've been running through."

"Huntress is very persuasive."

"I don't want to hear it. The less I hear the better."

He shrugs and lets his featureless visage stare at you.
"All the same to me, Officer. What kind of help are you hoping not to hear about?"

"I made a sort of deal with Maroni, he gets me into the meeting under the pretense of me being dirty."

"A hard to believe concept for anyone who knows you." Question interrupts.

"Yeah well, they don't know me. The skinny is this: I go in pretending to be dirty and listen in on their meeting, Kimble and a small detachment of SWAT are gonna kick in the doors, and when they take their secret entrance to escape we have another group of patrolmen waiting in the sewers to scoop em up except for Maroni."

"Which is where you want Huntress and I to come in."

"And they call Batman an ace detective."

A single dry chuckle flits from behind his mask as he collects his hat and secures it.

"Underhanded move, Officer. I'm proud of you, you aren't the same greenhorn I held up with a spray bottle. Consider Huntress and I on board."

"Appreciated, Q."

"Could do you one better. It shouldn't be long now before the GCPD starts picking up rumors about myself and Huntress."

"Rumors regarding?"

"Things you don't want to hear about. A faceless man and a woman in purple looking for anyone connected to Mandragora."

You rub your forehead and sigh.
"You know this is gonna put him on edge right? What if he blows off the meeting over this?"

"From what we've been hearing it isn't exactly optional. More of a 'orders from on high' arrangement."

You furrow your brow.
"I heard something recently that lends some credibility to that idea. How exactly do you help then?"

"A set of crazed maniacs, frustrated their current hunt isn't bearing any fruit, end up broadening their search to Maroni, Falcone, and anyone else. One of their questions? Who are the dirty cops on Maroni's pay roll. It would set up a precedent for your reputation before you go into the club. But at the same time it will erode faith in the GCPD."

"Question, that's insane. That could get me investigated by IA."

"And convicted of what? Any accusation against someone with a stellar record like you will be disregarded as...conspiracy. Especially with your plan to infiltrate on the books officially." He let's his words linger, a gloved hand stroking his chin. "I just provide alternatives, Officer. If you want to go far then you'll get into the habit. 'In preparing for battle I have always found that plans are useless, but planning is indispensable.' they say."

"Who is they?"
>>
"A man who played both sides in an invisible war. A task not so dissimilar to our own."

He turns and faces you, sliding his small pizza box stool to the side as he leans down and picks up a small plastic bag.

"Don't commit to plans. Commit to planning. Think of everything that can go wrong along the way and then begin planning for if that happened. If you plan enough then you'll never need to commit to a plan, you can commit to multiple."

"Talking to you is a headache, Q."

"I've been told." He says dryly. "Should I tell Huntress to start asking about a rogue officer?"

>"Yes, tell Huntress to spread the word about a cop on Maroni's pay-roll but do not get specific about the precinct or anything else. Keep it vague."
>"Go for it, just leave my name out of it is all I ask."
>"Absolutely not, I'm not going to risk making more people distrust the police. A rumor about a dirty cop isn't going to just wash off when we pull off the sting."
>Write-In

Secondary Vote:
>Ask Question to hang out.
>Head home after this, you need a break.
>Do something else..(Write-In)
>>
>>5925873
>"Yes, tell Huntress to spread the word about a cop on Maroni's pay-roll but do not get specific about the precinct or anything else. Keep it vague."
>Ask Question to hang out.
The department's rep is secondary to getting shit done, much as it pains me to say.
>>
>>5925873
>"Absolutely not, I'm not going to risk making more people distrust the police. A rumor about a dirty cop isn't going to just wash off when we pull off the sting."
>Ask Question to hang out.
>>
Happy Valentines Day to all you guys! Wanted to let you know I may not be on later for an update as I have plans with the missus, so if you don't see a post around the normal time that means I decided to take the night off.


General Question for everyone to mull over until the next post:
>Who is your favorite character and why?

Just wanted to take the chance, as well to tell everyone thank you for playing. Even lurkers who just read and say nothing, just wanna let you guys know I really appreciate your participation in/reading the quest. Running this has reminded me why I loved QM'ing so much in high school a bunch of years ago. It's been a blast.
>>
+1 >>5925875

it's painful but I agree reputation can be earned back with this massive bust the GCPD is about to make, that piece of PR should cover some of the rumors about us being corrupt, and if we are being investigated who knows they might catch some actual corruption.
>>
>>5925962
Happy valentines day!

the SIM Killer his second murder of that woman and him killing the kid was chilling especially when we heard the kid's thoughts right at the end, he adds a picture of Gotham to me, which makes it seem to me like Jack the ripper case and us trying to catch him, it just adds to Gotham's atmosphere and really paints a brutal picture of what go's down in certain parts of the city.
>>
>>5925875
+1

>>5925962
Where are the silly comic book architecture like giant typewriters or some shit?
>>
>>5925873
>"Yes, tell Huntress to spread the word about a cop on Maroni's pay-roll but do not get specific about the precinct or anything else. Keep it vague."
>Ask Question to hang out.

Keeping it vague would help with what we wanted to do anyways, which is to get them spinning and snapping at their own heels.
>>
>>5925873
>"Yes, tell Huntress to spread the word about a cop on Maroni's pay-roll but do not get specific about the precinct or anything else. Keep it vague."
if crooks don't believe at least SOME cops are dirty, they'll never buy our 'dirty cop' infiltration routine to begin with. And, come on, it's Gotham. People don't trust cops, certainly not ALL cops. And... Shit, there SI a mole, isn't there? So people aren't WRONG.

>Ask Question to hang out.
We can check in on Bass Head.

>>5925962
>Who is your favorite character and why?
I think you're doing a really good job of the mystery of What Exactly Is Wrong With Rogers, but also Hawthorne is very good. I'd say Question and Huntress, too; you write them well, but since they aren't OCs I wasn't sure that praise would be as meaningful.
>>
>>5925873
>>Write-In
>>"Faith in the department is only just now recovering from the slime it used to be thanks to Gordon's work as commissioner. The only way I would accept this is if you make it seem that you and Huntress are running out of leads and are 'looking for something, anything' to crack it open."
>>Ask Question to hang out.

I feel that we have to at least attempt to preserve the little trust that the department has.

>>5925873

Honestly, my favorite character so far is a tie between Hawthorne, Kimbel, and Gotham herself. Thanks to you getting to use Shivers (the second best Disco power after Inland Empire) you have made Gotham a forthcoming character in its own right.
>>
>>5925873
>>"Yes, tell Huntress to spread the word about a cop on Maroni's pay-roll but do not get specific about the precinct or anything else. Keep it vague."
>Head home after this, you need a break.
>>
>>5925873
>>"Absolutely not, I'm not going to risk making more people distrust the police. A rumor about a dirty cop isn't going to just wash off when we pull off the sting."
I feel like the meeting is gonna go to shit VERY fast anyway.
>Head home after this, you need a break.
No idea what to talk to him about besides work, so let's just go.

Guys, question. Do we Red Button this meeting? Those are all the biggest gotham mob bosses in one place. Just a little bit of bat wouldn't hurt.

>>5925962
>>Who is your favorite character and why?
Hawthorne. He's sooo gonna die. But also Grey. The line about "new age of Super-Cops fighting Super-Criminals" is really cool. It's wrong, I don't think the amount of capeshit is increasing on DC's earth as time goes on, but more meta cops would be cool to see. Maybe more d-listers will see Mark being cool in uniform and decide to go legit. Problem is a lot of origin stories happen to people who are already adults. No 30 year old (who's now a d-lister meta) is gonna do a 180 and fuck off to police academy I think. Maybe we need a legal version of a suicide squiad. "Meta auxiliary forces" or something like this, idk. Too ambitious probably.
>>
>>5925873
>"Should I tell Huntress to start asking about a rogue officer?"
>>5926164
>>5926318
Some mix of these two. There are always gonna be dirty cops, and Huntress should suggest that she's looking for someone, possibly us and others, but also we don't want it to be a public thing - so long as it doesn't get to big word of mouth, yes.
Thugs and criminals will always assume that a cop maybe bribed, we just don't want the general public to think that.

As to Secondary Vote
>Ask Question to hang out.
>BUT...
>"If you want to lose the mask for a few hours, you want to just talk?"
>>
>>5926776
>I don't think the amount of capeshit is increasing on DC's earth as time goes on, but more meta cops would be cool to see.
Technically, most DC continuities do go that way, though whether it happens during the lifetime of Batman and Superman (as in Kingdom Come or Generations) or takes many centuries or millennia to reach that point (The Legion of Superheroes) varies.
>>
>>5926830
>Technically, most DC continuities do go that way
Huh. That feels oddly depressing but also cool. "The times are always changing" is a great theme/background for any story, but I thought stagnation was the name of the game for most superhero stuff. Batman especially since his "dark urban fairy tale" setting is so out of time it can be done over and over in different ways and people aren't getting tired of him. Or gotham for that matter.
>>
>>5925873
>"Absolutely not, I'm not going to risk making more people distrust the police. A rumor about a dirty cop isn't going to just wash off when we pull off the sting."
>Ask Question to hang out.
>>
>>5925875
>>5925967
>>5925972
>>5925984
>>5926164
>>5926318
>>5926548

Collected and Counted. Writing.
>>
"Question, faith in the department is only just now recovering from the slime it used to be thanks to Gordon."

Question nods.
"I agree, your commissioner is special, but what does his work have to do with ours?"

"Wrong way around Q, this is YOUR work intersecting with mine."

"I see."

"The only way I accept this is if you make it seem like you two are running out of options and are looking for anything to crack this case, even if it means chasing shadows."

"So instead of, 'Who is the crooked cop?' we should be asking 'Does Maroni have a cop under his thumb?' plausible deniability that way for you? Just two crazy criminals sharing rumors over a fist fight."

"Just spread the word, but be subtle about it. This works best for all of us and will get Huntress closer to Mandragora."

"I doubt she'd object to that logic." He strokes his chin, slowly walking over to his beater car he leans against the door, his head angled down as he stares into the ground.

"Q?"

"Just thinking, Officer. I agree that it would be better for your department's reputation for us to do things this way, Huntress and I don't have stellar ones ourselves so a few instances of clobbering goons over half baked rumor make sense for us, I suppose."

"I didn't mean it that way, Q."

He holds up a hand.
"I'm not offended, Officer. It's the logical play and I'll back it. Because I want to see her put this to bed, she needs to put this to bed." He repeats the final line with a quiet intensity. The kind that makes your neck hair stand up.

"I'm in the same boat as you in a way." You tell him, joining him at his vehicle. "I need to help Hawthorne end this too, he's been working his whole career nearly trying to get this guy."

"And avenge his wife.." Question whispers.

"Yeah."

You both sit in silence for a few moments before Question breaks it with a tentative question.

"Officer, say this sting goes perfectly and you end up alone with Mandragora. Just you and Hawthorne.."

"I know where this is going."

"I'm asking that if it came down to it, would you stop him, could you stop him?"

>"We are the police, not judges, and not executioners. Hawthorne feels the same way, it's not gonna happen."
>"Of course I would, we trust each other, I know if I asked him to stand down he would."
>"By any means, murder is a crime even when the one behind the gun has a badge. If he couldn't be reasoned with then I'd restrain him."
>"I'd follow the lead of my TO. I trust him to make the right call."
>"No. Mandragora is irredeemable, I've seen first hand how he operates from a vision."
>Write-In
>>
>>5927231
>"We are the police, not judges, and not executioners. Hawthorne feels the same way, it's not gonna happen.
>>
>>5927231
>"We are the police, not judges, and not executioners. Hawthorne feels the same way, it's not gonna happen.
We're no cape, no vigilante. As much as we'd want to put bullets in Mandragora and SIM, because we anons see it as the right thing to do, we are still bound by laws and other people. It's the modern society we live in, where you cannot even kill people that are this dangerous without suffering for it yourself. A shame, but I think being noblebright and lawful good to this extent fits Mark just fine.
>>
>>5927231
>>"We are the police, not judges, and not executioners. The city takes what it's owed."
Then, to ourselves not to convince ourselves but because it should be said. "Hawthorne feels the same way, it's not gonna happen."
>>
>>5927231
>"We are the police, not judges, and not executioners. Hawthorne feels the same way, it's not gonna happen."
The first part is the plain truth. The second part at least IMPLIES we might crack him over the head if he pulls a gun on Mandragora,
>>
>>5927231
>"I'd follow the lead of my TO. I trust him to make the right call."
>>
>>5927234
>>5927262
>>5927286
>>5927299

"We are the police, not judges, not executioners." You tell him firmly. "Hawthorne feels the same, it won't happen." You follow up quietly with conviction still strong in your words.

"I believe you." Question reassures.

"What about Huntress? If you two were alone with him.."

"I would hope I could talk her out of it. Though I'm not too sure."

"Oh?"

He remains silent a few moments.
"Mandragora killed her parents, in front of her."

You stare at him for a few moments in a shocked silence.

"Don't let on that you know that, perhaps I shouldn't have told you, but I feel like we shouldn't keep any secrets." His voice betrays no emotion, just a cold logical calculus.

"Well I appreciate the faith."

"Not faith, you've given me no reason to think you aren't exactly what you seem."

"And how do I seem?"

"Like a good person and a competent police officer. You remind me of some people from the league."

"Do you miss it?"

"I miss the access I had. But I left for good reason."

"I heard your leaving was less...voluntary."

He nods.
"I had already decided on leaving before they had. I had overstepped."

"Regarding Superman?"

His head turns towards you slightly.
"You know more than you let on, Officer."

"I have good sources."

"I offered you the courtesy of being open, you deserve that after trusting me to keep the files on the case. But if you want to play your connections to the league close to the vest then I won't press you. I know more than most the pressure of keeping some things secret."

>"Sorry, Question. My Ex Girlfriend was the one who mentioned it, with how our last chat went I doubt I have more insight."
>"It's a bit of a long story, but I'll tell you all of it if you want." (This will disclose everything including your Road House Meeting with the Bat)
>"My source isn't that big a deal...just Batman."
>Write-In
>>
>>5927462
>"It's a bit of a long story, but I'll tell you all of it if you want." (This will disclose everything including your Road House Meeting with the Bat)
>>
>>5927462
>"It's a bit of a long story, but I'll tell you all of it if you want." (This will disclose everything including your Road House Meeting with the Bat)
>>
>>5927462
>>"My source isn't that big a deal...just Batman."
>>
>>5927462
>"It's a bit of a long story, but I'll tell you all of it if you want." (This will disclose everything including your Road House Meeting with the Bat)
Do right by Q
>>
>>5927462
>>"It's a bit of a long story, but I'll tell you all of it if you want." (This will disclose everything including your Road House Meeting with the Bat)
But we're in the back alley of a pizza place that isn't a 'uncommon' location for us. Maybe 'Not here'? or someplace more hidden?
>>
>>5927462
>"It's a bit of a long story, but I'll tell you all of it if you want." (This will disclose everything including your Road House Meeting with the Bat)
>>
>>5927462
>"It's a bit of a long story, but I'll tell you all of it if you want." (This will disclose everything including your Road House Meeting with the Bat)
>>
>>5927586 +1
Good thinking.

>>5927462
I'm >>5926830 on mobile.
>>
+1 >>5927586
>>
>>5927462
>>"It's a bit of a long story, but I'll tell you all of it if you want." (This will disclose everything including your Road House Meeting with the Bat)
>>
>>5927462
>>move to another location first, then
>>"It's a bit of a long story, but I'll tell you all of it if you want." (This will disclose everything including your Road House Meeting with the Bat)
I'm probably too quick to trust people, but I see 0 scenarios where he betrays us. And he loooves info, gift him some.

Also I missed the "Kill Mandragora or not" vote, which is a damn shame. Come on, if we arrest him he'll just be back again. Or he'll run his operation from prison. I suppose Mark needs to see his enemies escape jail over and over, and only then he'll arrive at the "just fucking kill 'em" mentality.
>>
>>5928739
All we need is for him to WANT to be in prison more then, innit?

Make it impossible for him to leave.

Still a cop. Cut a head off, another takes its place; more ruthless to avoid the mistakes of the past. Gotta get systematic on the structures.
>>
"Bit of a long story, mind if I tell it somewhere more private?" You ask him

Question looks around cautiously.
"Perhaps you're right. How about we drive?"

He walks past you and heads for your car, pulling on the passenger door handle and then raising his featureless face to you.

"It's locked, officer." He tells you while continuing to test the handle every few second.

You sigh.

============

The lights of the parkway pass over top of you like pale grey strobe lights as you reach the end of your story, the silver case with the red button that Batman had left in your care.

"He was always one for contingency." Question muses as he lies almost completely flat in your passenger seat. "Can I sit up soon, Officer?"

"Are you going to take your mask off?"

"I'd rather not."

"I'd rather not be spotted with you, either."

"Fair enough." He replies as one of his leather dress shoes rise from the floorboard and cross over his slacks, his gloved hands end up comfortably behind his head.

"Are you gonna weigh in on any of this or are you going to take a nap in my passenger seat?"

"I think best when I'm comfortable and when I'm under pressure."

You ignore the contradiction and focus on the road, Gotham's darkened streets only dotted with red taillights at this time.

"I think your decision to turn down an invitation to meet with League Members was the catalyst for this."

"How so?"

"He always had an affinity for those who were more...grounded."

"Like you?"

"No. I'm fairly confident he hates me, our conversation ended in a brawl after all."

"You fought Batman?"

"Maybe it was more of a scuffle."

"You lost huh?"

"He has strong morals and values." Question continues, ignoring your question, his fingers drum on the brim of his fedora. "He more than likely saw your refusal to even hear the league out and rejoin your old flame as a sign that you were 'worthy' to join his side project."

"His side project? Like a Junior Justice League or something?" You joke.

"No, he's always been an outsider to the League despite being a founding member. His old protege, the boy in red, do you remember him?"

"Robin? Every kid who grew up when Batman was around knows who robin is Q."

"You never thought about why he ended up in Jump City instead of The Watchtower? When his time in the Titans ended and the tabloids stopped covering his career where do you think he went? That he retired at the ripe age of twenty? Batman keeps his most trusted assets free from League influence."

"Why?"

"Contingency. To keep allies close who will prioritize his mission over the mission of the League, to keep allies close who could help him stop them if they ever went rogue."

"He actually plans for the league going rogue? Superman going rogue?" You ask in disbelief.

"Apparently he's the only one above suspicion, but I've seen things."

"Like what?"

"Pull over, Officer."
>>
You pull the car off at the next exit and find the old dark parking lot of an abandoned department store. Question rises from his chair and pulls and peels the mask from the corners of his face.

"Q? When you do stuff like this without saying anything it comes off as really creepy."

He continues to silently peel the mask from his face, the piercing intensity of his eyes are all you notice, his face is a grim expression.

"Officer, what I'm about to tell you has gotten me labelled as crazy by everyone I've spoken it too." His eyes flicker for a moment and he amends. "Except for one. I need you to see me, to know I'm serious when I say this."

"I'm listening Q, you're freaking me out." Your thoughts race at what horrible secrets he could have found.

"You have to promise to hear what I say and consider it seriously." He pauses a few seconds before he nods to himself. "I'm trusting you."

"Okay, I'll hear you out. For real. Lay it on me Q." You tell him with anticipation in your bones, your stomach grips and loosens in anxiety of what you may hear next.

"Lex Luthor is going to become the president and Superman is going to kill him." He states confidently.

>Laugh in his face
>"Do you have any actual evidence? What do you mean you 'saw' it? Like my Shivers?"
>"I see why they revoked your membership. That's a weighty accusation to throw at Superman of all people."
>"I always knew he seemed too nice.." (joking)
>"I always knew he seemed too nice.." (serious)
>"I'm going home, where do I need to drop you off."
>Write-In
>>
>>5927469
>>5927478
>>5927522
>>5927586
>>5927611
>>5927625
>>5927638
>>5927778
>>5927889
>>5928739

Had to cut this to save size for the update but here are your tasty (YOU)'s for your votes. Thank you
>>
>>5929900
>Laugh in his face (but not because we doubt but in panic and nerves because it's fucking Superman and...honestly, it's fucking Lex becoming president. The guy shows up in a battlesuit, fights superman and no one seems to try and tank his stock.)
>"You can't prove it but what do you have on Lex, or Superman? What do you mean you 'saw' it? Like my Shivers?"
>>
>>5929900
>"That doesn't make sense. Luthor only stands to lose if he enters into politics like that. His life, if you're right. But even if you're not right, corporations benefit far more from installing compliant politicians into offices of power than they do entering their own CEOs into the race. The cost of a campaign for someone with Luthor's track record would outweigh most benefits he could get. Especially with Congress to block the majority of his moves if he succeeds. So why would he run?
>>
>>5929900
>"Do you have any actual evidence? What do you mean you 'saw' it? Like my Shivers?"
>>
>>5929900
>"Do you have any actual evidence? What do you mean you 'saw' it? Like my Shivers?"
as well as this >>5929907
>>
>>5929900
>"I see why they revoked your membership. That's a weighty accusation to throw at Superman of all people."

>I can totally see lex running for president though.
>>
>>5929900
>>"I always knew he seemed too nice.." (serious)
>>
>>5929907
>>5929918
+1
>>
>>5929900
With the extreme gravity Q is putting on this, baring his true face at Mark out of how deathly serious it is, the mere idea asserted to be truth... I bet Mark's going to be reeling real hard at this. Q has been our bro this entire quest from the moment he became an ally. Despite his very clinical and justified paranoia, this goes beyond "company X adds bad chemical Y to product Z, you should avoid it". In fact, what he's saying is far more plausible than (insert cracked sounding silly conspiracy here)
>>
>>5929900

>>5929922
>"I see why they revoked your membership. That's a weighty accusation to throw at Superman of all people."

>I can totally see lex running for president though.

>Don't know if he'd want to win though... he might get more out of losing.
>>
>>5929900
>"I always knew he seemed too nice.." (joking)
>"Do you have any actual evidence? What do you mean you 'saw' it? Like my Shivers?"
>>
>>5929900
>"Do you have any actual evidence? What do you mean you 'saw' it? Like my Shivers?"
And a bit of >>5929907
But otherwise I'm honestly more inclined to believe him than not.

Question is obviously being serious about this. I feel like laughing to his face might be a bit too disrespectful.
>>
>>5929907
>>5929918
>>5929934
>>5930044
>>5929906


Your first urge is to laugh, not out of finding it ridiculous, out of a sense of discomfort and rattled nerves. You scan his face and see the deathly serious nature of his expression as well as something else behind the eyes, a sense of desperation. A desire for someone to take him seriously.

"Alright.." You say quietly, letting your chin rest on the steering wheel. "I'm struggling to see it myself, Lex enters politics like that and I don't see what he has to gain. Corporations have their lobbyists to get political influence so putting himself from CEO into Head of State seems almost like a downgrade. His anti-superman rhetoric will alienate masses of voters, his money will be blackholed into a campaign, and the only possible benefit is if Congress allows him to make every move he wants. Which they wont."

Questions expression softens, a small smile playing on his lips.
"Your faith in the system is touching, Officer. Have you ever looked into the members of Congress?"

"No?"

"I have, and do you know what I see? Miles of receipts, Lexcorp team training seminars for staffers, Lexcorp resorts hosting political conventions, those very same lobbyists buying loyalty from the government for the equivalent of a yearly subscription to a magazine. The government are Lexcorp employees being loaned out to the highest seats of power. It's been that way for years."

"Then why even run for president."

"Because everyone KNOWS how powerful Superman is. If you hated him. Truly hated him. Wouldn't you want a title that stands up to 'Man of Steel'? Officer?"

You go silent for a few moments, this is more in line with the usual conspiracy rambling you get from Question.
"What do you mean you saw that Superman would kill Luthor then? Like a vision, like Shivers?"

His face gets sheepish.
"I saw it in a dream."

You can't hide your expression and he holds up a gloved hand.
"I infiltrated a facility owned and operated by government black ops group named Cadmus. When I was there I found something. Files."

"And what was in the files convinced you?"

"It did. Detailed reports. Simulations. The kind of math and logic you can't argue with. It all pointed to the same result."

"Luthor being killed by Superman." You finish.

"Not only that." He pauses, you can see the uncertainty in his eyes. "There was also a risk of the Justice League going rogue in the simulations."

"How big of a risk?"

"90% or higher on a post Luthor world becoming a totalitarian dictatorship under Superman with most of the league following."

"Yeah, I was wondering when that would come up."

He furrows a brow at you.

"Huntress told me part of your expulsion may have included words like 'Fascist' being thrown around."

His cheeks turn the slightest shade of red.
"I may have gotten caught up in the moment."

You lean back and stare at the dark Gotham sky.
"90% or higher." You whistle a low tone.
>>
Your mind races to connect the lines. Batman's absence and his desire to grow a more personal team lends credence to this, thought that could be the overcaution of paranoid men. You bite your inner cheek, then again caution is only paranoia when it turns out to be wrong.

Question watches you with intense interest, a flick over to him and you see his eyes scanning all over trying to get a read on how you feel. The more you think about it the more his reasoning makes some level of sense but something is missing...

"Where are the files you saw?" You ask him casually despite the hammering in your chest. "Any chance of me seeing them?"

"I have them hidden. Bringing them out would risk drawing multiple eyes, it would be impossible to get them without an issue."

"Why is that?"

"I hid them in the ventilation shaft of the women's bathroom on The Watchtower."

You blink a few times.
"Okay."

You both lay there with reclined seats staring at the sky.

"I won't put you into an awkward position by asking if you believe me. I realize this may be a bit much for a Rookie Officer to take in. I'm sorry about putting it on you."

"I asked." You state.

"You did." He says, thoughtfully. "You're one of the first people outside of Huntress to make me feel like I'm not crazy sometimes." He says quietly.

You turn to look at him and see he is already running his fingers over the seams of his mask, blending them perfectly with his skin once more.

"What's your endgame then?"

"Hm?"

"The Lex Luthor and Superman thing, you brought it up to him and got your membership revoked. Without the files you don't have a leg to stand on convincing anyone, so what's your move?"

"He has a LexCorp facility that was mentioned in the files, when I looked into it I noticed he had apparently made it a sort of home away from home. Whatever he's overseeing there I need to see inside of. Honestly I wasn't expecting it to be much trouble."

"Why?"

"It's in my home city. Before you ask, I can't go back there either."

"Well I gotta ask why."

"I'm not strong enough. I was intercepted on my way to the facility by a woman. One of the most dangerous hand to hand combatants I'd ever seen, it was only through dumb luck that I managed to survive. Dumb luck and Huntress, she found me floating sideways in the river and pulled me to shore. She nursed me back to health, helped put me back together when I woke up broken. The man I was had been killed and all I had left were Questions." He speaks gently, as if the memory is a bruise he doesn't want to apply pressure to.

>"When our business with SIM and Mandragora is wrapped up then you'll be going back?"
>"Huntress seems loyal, what'd you do to get so far on her good side?"
>"Tell me more about this Lady fighter, she sounds rough."
>"I have a suitcase with a big red button if you wanna make another run at getting Batman on your side."
>Write-In

Second Vote:
Does Mark Believe Question?
>Yes
>No
>Other (Elaborate)
>>
>>5930073
>"When our business with SIM and Mandragora is wrapped up then you'll be going back?"
>"Tell me more about this Lady fighter, she sounds rough."
>"I have a suitcase with a big red button if you wanna make another run at getting Batman on your side."
As for the second question
>Yes
I believe he saw what he saw, just not necessarily the conclusions he or Cadmus drew from those simulation. If Superman was gonna make a complete 180 like that, there has to be a reason. Something pivotal that completely upends his current worldview.
Who's the current Flash on the League right now? If it's spoilers feel free not to answer.
>>
>>5930088
supporting
>>
>>5930066
>"I saw it in a dream."

>>5930073
>>5930088
+1
>>
>>5930073
This >>5930088
>>
>>5930088
+1
>>
>>5930088
+1
>>
>>5930088
We probably can't ask about the Flash, but we could probably make a general speculation. "What could Lex do as President that he couldn't do as a CEO to get Superman to break his code?" with an attached "If that can be prevented, then that timeline wouldn't come to pass." Might help the Question concentrate his focus.
>>
>>5930073
>"When our business with SIM and Mandragora is wrapped up then you'll be going back?"
I'd ask about Huntress but, even without metatextuall knowledge, I think it's pretty obvious they've bonded over being outcasts from the League.

+1 to >>5930088's "Yes, but..." vote, too. As that anon says, I don't think Question's lying or making things up, but I don't know that Mark would support going all 'Minority Report' about it (or whatever in-universe equivalent exists). A prediction is just that: a prediction. The government's is based on their partial understanding of Superman and their preconceived notions of him. They can't know what's really in his heart.
Shit, they presumably don't even know hes' Clark Kent and if you don't know Clark, you don't really know Superman, you just know his holding-back 'officer friendly' persona
>>
>>5930207
>>5930267
That bit about the Fflash, as well as everything in my post that WASN'T greentexted wasn't in-character. Just thought I should clarify that bit.
>>
>>5930391
Whoops. Still, posing the idea to Batman of "Lex is likely to use the powers of the president that he can't access as CEO to push Superman to a breaking point where he will kill Lex and simulations have shown that Superman is very likely to turn into a dictator with his moral code having shattered from this, so planning contingencies to counter those moves ahead of time is a good idea" is a far easier to swallow concept than "Superman will kill Lex and become a dictator if Lex becomes president."

One is a concern with clear ways on how to stop it. The other comes across an an insult with no clear indications on how to mitigate things. Former also means that Lex becoming President is not an automatic fail state.
>>
>>5930073
>"When our business with SIM and Mandragora is wrapped up then you'll be going back?"
>"Tell me more about this Lady fighter, she sounds rough."
>"I have a suitcase with a big red button if you wanna make another run at getting Batman on your side."
>Yes
>>
>>5930391
Yeah I personally assumed that was the case but thank you for clarifying to the other two anons, this stuff can get confusing.

>>5930073
Just to be clear in my support to the
>Yes
answer is like the anon clarified, mostly just us believing Question's word, and not a "Yes, but..."
>>
>>5930103
>"I saw it in a dream."
Thanks to Shivers, we can actually pull this later and have it be true
>>
>>5930088
+1
>>
>>5930088
>>5930090
>>5930103
>>5930109
>>5930149
>>5930188
>>5930634
>>5930740

We believe in Question and want to know more? As you wish. Writing.
>>
You let the silence linger as you roll over the things Question shared with you. You believe him, his quirks and eccentricity aside, Question has always been a straight shooter with you. His refusal to hold back even the strangest theories about toothpaste ingredients or how roads are designed to cause accidents when wet he has never told you anything less than, what he believes is, the honest truth. It's in this moment you realize, perhaps by design, you don't know much about Question.

"Q?"

He grunts in reply.

"When our business with SIM and mandragora is wrapped up, are you going back to Hub City?"

"I'm going to that facility, I made my mind up the moment I read those documents. A year or a month it makes no difference to me."

"But you can't go back now because of that fighter woman, she sounds rough. What's her deal?"

"She introduced herself to me as Lady Shiva and apologized."

"Apologized?"

"For taking the contract to kill me." He says quietly.

"Well she didn't do a very good job."

"No, she achieved her mission. She didn't seek to kill The Question. She sought to kill Vic Sage, and in that, she succeeded. The man I was died that day face down in the river."

"Jesus, Q." You whisper. He waves a gloved hand.

"It's for the best. I thought I had made peace with my decision but speaking to your sergeant and feeling that fear to remove my mask." He goes silent for a few moments. "Maybe I'm not as at peace as I once thought. I can only hope that when I go back I can put it to bed."

"Well, I have a suitcase with a big red button if you wanna make another run at getting Batman to help you out."

He actually chuckles, it's dry.
"I think he wouldn't be very fond of seeing me again, we didn't part on good terms even by the standards of how I left everyone else."

"What do you mean?"

"I was in a bad place after my confrontation with Superman, while I was packing he attempted to speak to me."

"Didn't go well huh?"

"I recall asking him if his concern would be better placed not on me but on Gotham, since it seemed to be all he cared about."

"That isn't that bad."

"It wasn't until I called him a narcissistic terror who only served to make little children afraid of dark alleys."

"Man."

"I was frustrated that he clearly saw the same writing on the walls as I did, but wouldn't support me. He'd rather shore up his own defenses alone."

"That's when the fight happened? How was it if you don't mind my asking?"

"Terrifying. It felt like Lady Shiva again, only this time I got a shot in."

"You landed a hit on Batman?"

"Not that it mattered, he's never outside of his armor. All the training on the Watchtower paid off, I've been training more with Huntress since."

You both settle back into that silence again, a shiver runs down your neck.

Somewhere in Gotham a man clad in black crouches on the edge of a rooftop, his eyes scan the sky for any sign of a spotlight shining against the dark grey mass of clouds.
>>
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After your talk with Question you drive him down to the Hotel Gotham where he leads you to the alley behind the tall building.

"Here?"

"This is perfect, Officer." He tells you, finally raising his seat to a normal position.

"You sure you don't want to go back to your car? I really don't mind."

"I've been out long enough." He tells you simply, popping the door and stepping out. He gives you a tip of his hat and wraps the plastic bag he had with him at Pizza Planet around his wrist before grasping a fire escape ladder and beginning to climb.

"Q..." you start before giving it up. "Have a good night, buddy.' You say to nobody in particular, sighing as you lean across your seats to pull the door shut.

The drive home is quiet, the only thing of note are the multitude of shivers you feel that leave the faintest traces of fear and adrenaline on the fringe of your mind. As you shift into park you shake it off, could be after-effects from the remote viewing you pulled off earlier, a useful ability to be sure but you worry about long term effects or damage.

The climb up the stairs is longer this evening, your legs feeling heavier and heavier with each step. Your mind swirls as you insert the new keys into the door and step into a wonderfully unmolested living space. Sleep begins to creep into the edges of your vision so a shower, a quick banana, and a cold glass of water become the top of your priorities. When you're clean and refreshed you crawl into the inviting sheets and spend a few minutes wriggling and trying to find a spot without a briefcase shaped lump. Perhaps you should think of a more permanent place to stick this thing. 'A problem for tomorrow' you think to yourself, as tonight you dream of...

>Gotham itself, the city is active tonight and is never adverse to seating a spectator.
>SIM, even in your most peaceful moments his unsettling words and the chilling visions you've seen intrude on your mind.
>Your childhood, hearing Question reflect on his life journey has you doing the same.
>Write-In?
>A building tremor beneath Gotham, once imperceptible, now letting out the quietest hum to those who would listen. (Requires 1d100 Roll, if you want to roll for it please pick a back up vote as well.)
>>
Rolled 8 (1d100)

>>5930793
>the spoiler
Gotta'. Back-up vote:
>Your childhood, hearing Question reflect on his life journey has you doing the same.
>>
>>5930793
>spoiler
I'll roll for it only if it gets chosen
Then
>Your childhood, hearing Question reflect on his life journey has you doing the same.
Ah... Nostalgia...
>>
>>5930793
>spoiler
back up vote
>Your childhood, hearing Question reflect on his life journey has you doing the same.
>>
Rolled 19 (1d100)

>>5930793
>spoiler
backup is
>Gotham itself, the city is active tonight and is never adverse to seating a spectator.
>>
Rolled 2 (1d100)

>>5930793
>spoiler
>>
>>5930796
>>5930826
>>5930828
>all those bad rolls
The sleeper rests... for now...
>>
>>5930833
zzz homie
>>
Rolled 76 (1d100)

>>5930649
And it will be beautiful.

>>5930793
>Your childhood, hearing Question reflect on his life journey has you doing the same.
>A building tremor beneath Gotham, once imperceptible, now letting out the quietest hum to those who would listen.
>>
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Rolled 86 (1d100)

>>5930793
>>the spoiler
Back up
>>Gotham itself, the city is active tonight and is never adverse to seating a spectator.
Gotham, my waifu

And here it is. A world-ending threat. God damn it.
Also Q admitting to shit talking batman was really funny. Have this cool picture of Gotham I found
>>
>>5930796
>>5930809
>>5930820

>>5930917:
Nice save anon.


Writing.
>>
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You drift off into the familiar comfort of old memories as sleep takes you. Your time in the park earlier had an effect on your subconscious as you blink your eyes and find yourself sitting on a park bench watching an old man meander his way towards you, he holds a shaved ice in either hand, he extends the frozen treat in his hand and you take it with small hands.

"Thank you, Nonno." You tell him quietly. A slow throbbing pain starts to fade into the memory below your right eye.

"Mhmm." He says gently before sitting down beside you. "Is it good?"

You nod between small bites of cherry flavored snow.
"Molto bene." You try your best to pronounce.

He smiles and chuckles, his floral shirt standing out against the muted colors of the park bench and shade of the trees.
"Very good, Mark. But you know why I brought you out here." Hearing his accented voice again brings your a bittersweet feeling.

You nod and do not resist when his hand touches the bottom of your chin and turns your head left to right as he examines the forming bruise beneath your eye.
"Clever to give the school my number and not your father's. What happened here?"

"Tony Keller punched me.." You mumble.

"Why?"

"He lost his favorite pen and I found it." You state flatly.

"Hmm. Doesn't sound like much of a reason to hit somebody, you sure nothing else happened?"

"I listened to them."

"To the voice eh?"

"Yeah...But when I told Tony about it he just made fun of me! He said that his dad told him kids like me aren't natural, that I was born in a lab probably."

"I see." He replies, always measured in his words and never letting his emotion show. "How did you respond?"

You pause a few moments before guiltily muttering your reply.
"I broke it.."

"And why did you break it, Mark? After going through the trouble of getting it for him you just end up breaking it?"

"I was mad at him, Nonno. I helped him and he was mean to me."

"So that means you hurt him? Buon Dio, Mark. You're getting older now and this excuse about just being mad isn't going to cut it anymore." He shakes his head in disappointment but after a few seconds he smiles and pats the top of your head. "You have your father's temper, you remind me so much of him when he was young. But like he did you need to learn to let some things go, insults and petty lies are only words at the end of the day and a man is not judged by his words but by his actions."

"So I should have just given him his pen after that?"

"Why did you want to find it in the first place?"

"He seemed sad that he lost it, nobody else could find it so I asked the voice."

"You wanted to help him because you thought you were the only one who could, yeah?"

"I guess." You mumble

"People are strange, you can help them and be nothing but kind and respectful to them and still only get back insults or hate. That isn't something limited to people who are different either, it's been that way all through history going back to Jesus."
>>
"I'm like Jesus?" You ask him in a truly confused voice.

"Dio, No that's not what.." He answers quickly and sighs. Throwing the sign of the cross before putting a hand on your shoulder. "Mark, you might have the power to help people when you're older is what I'm saying. But that's a choice up to you, there's nothing wrong with living for yourself, but to live in service to others and to live helping others regardless if they appreciate you, or compliment you, or even acknowledge you. That is a life well lived, little soldato."

"I should apologize to Tony then?"

"Yes you should, maybe you and I can go pick out a new pen for him when we leave here."

"Okay." You let another batch of flavored crystals dissolve on your tongue. "Thank you, Nonno."

He looks at you with his deep brown eyes.
"Ti amo, Mark."

He proceeds to go into another topic, maybe how school is in general? Maybe your doctor's appointments? You can't really remember in fact you find it hard to think at all. As you stare at him speaking a sound begins to rise from the background, it reminds you of cicada's.

A chorus of hums.

The smell of pennies.

You blink and open your eyes in a near pitch black space, the only light comes from a bank of computers far away, glittering across the ceiling like a spilled barrel of marbles you see the reflective orbs of hundreds if not thousands of creatures. Your presence doesn't disturb their posture, wrapped in their wings like cloaks of shadow, and you realize this is a Shiver's vision. You were ejected out of your dream and dropped wherever this is, you try and turn but find your sight fixed on a small glowing cube, intricate patterns of light blip and shift. You begin to approach it, of your own will or not you can't even tell, the droning gets louder and louder as you approach until you get within arms reach.

The cube rests on a steel cylinder with some sort of beam of light surrounding it, you don't know what about it gives you this idea but the light surrounding the cube seems...solid? A click makes you jump but you don't move. You examine the face of the cube facing you glows and hums, two rows of six slits cover the side that faces you and of those slits 9 are currently illuminated, you watch with fascination as the 10th slit flickers and struggles to light only to realize it isn't struggling to light at all in fact it appears that the slit is only two-thirds of the way filled. The buzzing and deep bone rattling hum ceases as you see the bar jump barely an inch upwards.

Your hand reaches out slowly and you notice with some slight amounts of fear that your form ripples at the edges as it passes through the light barrier. Your fingertips feel radiating static energy but as you finally lay fingertip to strange metal you see...

Fire.

Brimstone.
>>
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The smell of Sulphur invades your lungs as you struggle to see through thick clouds of gas that sting your eyes, as the water clears you only notice one thing.


A rapidly approaching beam of red light.

You wake up gasping, covered in a frigid sweat, and hand outstretched in the same position as your dream. The air is cool and crisp, devoid of all the fumes and vapors you were embroiled in. You take a few breaths trying to bring your heartrate back down as your mind scrambles to understand what you saw, was it just a nightmare? Maybe a sideeffect of overdoing it with Shivers at the cafe? You close your eyes and try to let your shivers go to that place again when something tugs inside of you.

Don't.

You blink a few times, your body finally under your own control again, every time you dwell on the memory of what you saw after touching the cube something seems to try and insulate you but you make progress the longer you rest on it.

>Push through the warning, go back to what you saw and try to take it all in.
>Let sleeping dogs lie. You aren't sure if this is even a real thing you saw or just the consequences of pushing yourself too far.
>Write-In?


Another big update to make up for the early night I called yesterday, as always I'd love to know what you think of Gramp DeLucia and anything else included in this one. Break out your tinfoil hats because I'd love to hear your theories.
>>
>>5931646
>Let sleeping dogs lie. You aren't sure if this is even a real thing you saw or just the consequences of pushing yourself too far.

Gramps sees like a real cool dude.
Hopefully Jesus can protect us from Darkseid.
>>
>>5931646
>Let sleeping dogs lie. You aren't sure if this is even a real thing you saw or just the consequences of pushing yourself too far.
FUCK OFF DARKSEID
>>
>>5931646
>>Let sleeping dogs lie. You aren't sure if this is even a real thing you saw or just the consequences of pushing yourself too far.
If Shivers says no, it means no.

So far I like Grampa. It's always nice to have a principled but kind old timer.

Darkseid pls no bully we didn't touch your mommycube.
>>
>>5931646
>>Push through the warning, go back to what you saw and try to take it all in.
>>
>>5931646
>>Let sleeping dogs lie. You aren't sure if this is even a real thing you saw or just the consequences of pushing yourself too far.
best if we nope the fuck out
>>
Wait a second...if we got a vision of it...will SIM get a vision of it?

And the visions show us things that are in Gotham. Does SIM really hear Gotham, or does he instead hear the echoes of Apokolips from a fragment buried within Gotham?
>>
>>5931650
>>5931679
>>5931673
>>5931744

You settle back into your bed. Despite all the strife and trouble Shivers has brought you over your life you've formed a sort of trust with it, especially after learning to use your powers more effectively, if your Shivers warn you to let something go then it's probably best to do so. For now at least.

A few minutes of scrolling your phone bring your mind away from the strange nightmare and into a new more real nightmare. Politics.

'Mayor Dent to thank GCPD and GCFD this weekend with award ceremony.'

Banks is probably excited but you could go a while longer without having to see Dent but the more important thing is to show support for your friend. You sigh and lean your head back, it's times like this you wish you had more experience having friends growing up. The thought lingers and your mind drifts back to that dream, it'd been years since you'd even heard your Grandfather's voice, it felt so nice to relive a conversation with the old man. A buzzing in your hand brings your attention back to the phone as a text message appears across the screen, a message from Kimble.

"Rehearsal is today. Come in wearing civvies. Also pick up some breakfast."

You groan. In your early morning stupor you forgot about the undercover assignment you'll be on, the club and then the awards are going to be a killer on you. You sit up and swing your feet off the bed and start your routine, you're awake more than an hour early but it's only fair that if Kimble seemingly went in early that you do the same. A shower, a shave, and a cup of orange juice gets you back to full alertness.

"Come in wearing civvies..." You mumble to yourself as you open up a closet door and look at the chaotic piles of clothes below the few hung and ironed things you do own. Part of you wonders if this is part of the rehearsal or maybe you're being paranoid. Staring into the closet you decide to head in wearing...

>Your usual, GCPD Gym shirt and a pair of jeans.
>Something sleazy, an old button up with a wife beater underneath and a gold chain you got from your uncle for graduating.
>Something formal, A nice button up and some slacks.
>Something Roguish, a leather jacket, plain white tee, and lots of hair gel.
>Your grandfather's old Hawaiian shirt, you took it from your parent's place the last time you visited. Mom insisted.
>Write-In (as long as it isn't insane we can assume Mark has it)
>>
>>5931827
>>Something formal, A nice button up and some slacks.
>>
>>5931827
>>Your grandfather's old Hawaiian shirt, you took it from your parent's place the last time you visited. Mom insisted.
>>
>>5931827
>Something formal, A nice button up and some slacks.
We're rehearsing for a sitdown with Made Men. Formal attire is probably expected, lest we pull a fucking Tony Pro by accident.
>>
>>5931838
+1, get Italian /fa/
>>
>>5931827
>Something formal, A nice button up and some slacks.
ALSO
>Write-In: Pack your uniform and a spare change of civvies in a bag, and store them in the car. It might just be because of the time you've spent with Question, or because of the bad feeling you have, but it's better to have them and not need them than need them and not have them.
I think that keeping a spare change of clothes in the car and our work locker would make a lot of sense... Maybe some wet wipes as well.
With the amount of things we're getting up to, having quick ways to clean off and get changed will be a godsend at some point in the near future.
>>
>>5931948
Anon if we’re going undercover then our police uniform shouldn’t even be in the same congressional district as us. That’s just asking to get caught.
>>
>>5931975
true, but aren't we going undercover AS a cop? albeit a dirty one.
>>
>>5931827
>Your grandfather's old Hawaiian shirt, you took it from your parent's place the last time you visited. Mom insisted.
>Add some hair gel and a gold chain
Greasermaxxing.

ALSO

>Write-In: Pack your uniform and a spare change of civvies in a bag, and store them in the car. It might just be because of the time you've spent with Question, or because of the bad feeling you have, but it's better to have them and not need them than need them and not have them.

>>5931948
Good thinking
>>
>>5931759
We should call SIM and ask him if he's seen 'it'.
>>
God damn it man, now that's not one, but TWO potential end of the world scenarios that might be unfolding right now. I miss when the worst thing we could encounter was a guy with a flamethrower or a psychic stabby guy. Oh well, back to our 9 to 5.

>>5931827
>it's times like this you wish you had more experience having friends growing up
Ouch, too real. Actually, on the topic of Mark being an outcast before, I found it super weird how in this version of DC metas are treated like "outcasts". If I was a teenager and the dude in my class could have actual working visions it would be the coolest thing ever.

>>Something formal, A nice button up and some slacks.
There is no fucking way Mark the boyscout could ever pull off anyhting sleasy or roguish. Sorry Mark.

>>5931759
Great thinking. Actually, we should call him about it. Funny enough this is one time we should be on the same page completely, evil genocidal aliens can unite anyone. Still gonna vote for killing SIM when the time comes though. Unless QM puts it on the mid day update, then I wopn't be able to make it.
>>
>>5932051
To be absolutely fair, I can understand somet hate for metas in this universe.
For every caped crusader, it feels like there's two or three supervillains making life hell for everybody with their powers. Granted, they aren't all metahumans, but most of them are. It really just gives the honest metas a bad rap.
>>
>>5932051
>>5931948
>>5931832
>>5931838
>>5931913
>>5932045

You pull a nice dark dress shirt from the closet and a pair of slacks, probably wouldn't be smart to walk into the station in your Soprano Sunday Best anyways, but your hanging uniform catches your eye and it doesn't take much internal debate before you grab it and get it settled into a cloth dry cleaning bag.

"Thanks, Ma." You mutter as you pull the zipper to it's resting place. As you step out of the apartment and lock up behind you Ms. Dover dawdles up and down the hall with a large streamer in her hands.

"Setting up decorations?" You ask casually.

"Oh, Marcus. You usually aren't out of here for another forty minutes, what's got you up so early." She looks you up and down and gives you a warm smile. "And dressed to the nines, are you maybe meeting someone special for breakfast?"

You huff a laugh.
"Something like that ma'am." You look up at the streamer she has half draped across the hallway, fringed with black and orange foil and some bats and witches hats. "Let me help you with that." You say stepping forward and holding a hand out. She gladly hands it over with a thankful nod. You lean over and press the thumbtack holding the streamer into the wall.

"Beautiful." She says. "Thank you, Marcus."

"Happy Halloween, ma'am."

"Not yet! Now don't let me keep you, go and enjoy your breakfast." she says playfully wagging a finger. You give her a nod and take your leave.

After stowing your uniform in your trunk you slide into the front seat and get ready to head off, only something stops you for a moment, you find yourself staring at the glovebox and thinking about that dream again. Against your better judgment you lean forward and pop it open pulling out the cold silver flip phone. Your fingers tap against the cold buttons:

"Did you see it too?"

You stare at the screen debating with yourself until you give in and hit send. You need to know. You toss the phone back into the glove box and slap it closed as if it could explode at any moment, whether or not that was a bad idea you'll have to wait to find out because now you need to pick up breakfast. A pass through a drive-through and a bag of bagels and various cream cheeses later and you're parking at the station as usual but what isn't usual are the looks you get walking through the station with more than a few people giving a passing compliment. You spot Bunko and he gives you a drawn out wolf whistle, you wave it off and laugh to yourself. First time for everything.
>>
"What's the occasion DeLucia? Popping the question to the nutjob we wrangled?" He asks jokingly.

You respond in the best way you know how.
"Ya Mother."

He shakes his head with a smile and starts heading off to the locker room, overnight shift in Gotham what a life that must be.

As you approach the detective's meeting room you see Commander Reiner walking away from the bullpen coffee machine, he gives you the briefest up and down with his eyes before nodding and heading to his office, you let out a small breath of relief that you didn't get a dressing down for not being in uniform.

"This fucking guy." Kimble comments the moment you enter. "Look at him, Rookies first day of UC training and he's all dressed up."

"It's also Rookies ONLY day of UC training, so let's not joke around too much when his ass is the one on the line" Grey says from his whiteboard, you swear you can see permanent indents in the carpet from the hours he's spent pacing in front of it. Hawthorne sips from a coffee mug slowly just enjoying the back and forth, he gives you a small raise of the mug.

"Rook can handle it, he's plucky like that." Hawthorne says.

"Let's give him the most important test first then." Kimble chimes in. "Rookie. Pass me a bagel."

You set the bag down and watch as he pulls a warm everything from the bag and takes a bite.

"Fanks." He mumbles before taking a hard swallow. "Now, when you go in there and all those goombas are looking at you what do you need to do?"

>"Look tough, like nobody should fuck with me."
>"Look disinterested, the less they think I care about the meet the more they'll speak openly."
>"Say hello?"
>"Shut up and do nothing, I'm just a hired goon basically right?"
>Write-In
>>
>>5932554
>>"Shut up and do nothing, I'm just a hired goon basically right?"
>>
>>5932554
>goombas
Goomba, fuck you!

>"Look disinterested, the less they think I care about the meet the more they'll speak openly."
Be small. If they forget we're there they'll talk like we aren't there. Simple.

Also I forget if someone posted it in thread before, but someone from the qtg did a silly thing in paint for DL a while ago. It was the guy from Mafia 2? I think. With a badge shooped onto his lapel or whatever. I thought it was funny.
>>
>>5932554
+1 to both
>"Goomba, fuck you!"
in, like, our best and most authentic mafiaso voice, but then laugh it off and say...
>"Look disinterested, the less they think I care about the meet the more they'll speak openly."
>>
>>5932568
+1
>>
>>5932554
Here OP, this is for you
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eYSemWsdqjM
>>
>>5932562
>>5932568
>>5932579

"Goomba?" You say in your best faux-mobster. "Fawk you."

Kimble chuckles.

"You two are gonna end up in sensitivity training." Grey says shaking his head, but you notice the twitch of a smile behind his hand.

"Don't be like that Grey, he and I are sensitive enough, I think we even got misty eyed together in the cruiser the other day. It was beautiful." He says holding his chest and looking upwards.

"Jesus Christ." Grey mutters before turning around fully.

"Anyways, Boot. Before we start making flower crowns and holding hands, answer my question. What do you do?"

"I act disinterested, the less they think I care about the meet the more they'll speak openly."

Kimble nods, taking another large bite of plain bagel, chewing thoughtfully as he lets your answer linger.
"Thoughts?" He asks everyone else, spewing crumbs.

"Leave the room, go with him Kimble. You be Maroni and Rook, be Rook."

Kimble sighs and sets his bagel down, dusting his hands as he stands up.
"C'mon." He tells you.

You both exit the room and he stands outside the door with you. He tugs at the base of your shirt and straightens it out.
"You look sharp. I see what you're going for here. When we get in there just follow my lead, you'll be alright."

"Yes, sir." You tell him. He replies with a clap on the shoulder and an opening of the door.

Hawthorne and Grey now sit across from each other at the table, they both look at you expectantly, Hawthorne is the one who speaks first.

"Maroni. Who's the muscle?"

"Mandragora. Falcone." Kimble replies looking from person to person as he collapses into a seat. "This man, is a cop."

"You brought a fucking cop?" Hawthorne yells slamming his hand on the table. He stands up sending his chair backwards and pulls a long barreled revolver from under the table, he levels the bright orange tip with your head and stares you down with ice cold eyes. Behind him Kimble smiles at you and leans forward to grab his bagel.

"What the fuck are you doing bringing a pig here, Maroni?"

Kimble shrugs exaggeratedly.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Hawthorne growls, the plastic hammer of the revolver clicking into place.

Behind him Kimble beams at you with a stupid smile.

>"Getting a fucking check. Put the gun down and do your business."
>"Watching out for my boss, aim that at me if it keeps you comfy. But point it at him? Then we have problems."
>"Killing a cop is a serious crime, even a dirty one. Put a bullet in me and the GCPD is gonna hunt you down."
>[Quick Draw] Pull your fingers from your waistband and point them at Hawthorne. "Bang."
>"Sir, I don't think this is really helpful. What are the odds they just threaten me off the bat like this?"
>Follow Kimble's Lead.
>Write-In
>>
>>5932695
>"Watching out for my boss, aim that at me if it keeps you comfy. But point it at him? Then we have problems."
>>
>>5932698
+1, nice line
>>
>>5932041
Hmmmmm
Reverse psychology… you make a decent point.
>>
>>5932695
>"Getting a fucking check. Put the gun down and do your business."
>>
>>5932695
>>"Getting a check."
"watching out for my boss" feels like a lot of loyalty for a hired gun. If we could pull off the impression that Maroni is insecure and wants to show off his dirty cop to project strength that'd be great.

>>5932540
>BtwIWillPayMoneyForAHalfDecentDrawingOfMark
I could draw him, sure, but I think you wouldn't be able to pay me since I'm in fucking russia. What do you want anyway, a portrait?
>>
>>5932823
>pull off the impression that Maroni is insecure and wants to show off his dirty cop to project strength
I disagree. That puts the spot on Maroni and he'd hate looking or being hinted weak, and hate us in turn. The "watching out for my boss" has Italian allegiance flavor which meshes well
>>
>>5932823
That would be very cool of you anon. If you'd like to do a portrait for sure, I didn't really have anything particular in mind besides the earlier thread's descriptions as basically Tommy Angelo being how he looked.
>>
>>5932695
>>"Getting a fucking check. Put the gun down and do your business."
>>
>>5932695
>"Watching out for my boss, aim that at me if it keeps you comfy. But point it at him? Then we have problems."
>>
>>5932695
>Follow Kimble's Lead.
>>
>>5932051
>There is no fucking way Mark the boyscout could ever pull off anyhting sleasy or roguish. Sorry Mark.
The Cobra...disagrees!
>>
>>5932695
"Cobra's go where they want. They strike! Before you even seen! Put the iron down or...>[Quick Draw] Pull your fingers from your waistband and point them at Hawthorne. "Bang."
>>
Could hybridize >>5932698 and >>5932816. Maybe something to the effect of:
>"Watching out for my boss and getting a fucking check. Aim that at me if it keeps you comfy. But point it at him? Then we have problems."
It implies that Maroni's got loyalty from us because we're here to watch out for him and willing to have a gun on us to prove it, while also implying that he's undergoing some expansion because we're new enough that money is still a slight factor, placing us as an indication of Maroni having some successful expansions they weren't aware off.
In addition, it signals to Maroni about the deal. We're here for the planned sting (getting a fucking check), but it is a secondary priority to maintaining the deal of him getting off easy (Watching out for my boss). And as a bonus, he can be a smug asshole to them throughout the whole thing because he's getting one over on them twice (implying their intel on him is shit, and he's guaranteed to walk).
>>
>>5933298
Also could be one more layer that allows it to say it sincerely, if you consider our boss is Gotham City and we are straight up getting paid money to enact the justice that is coming.
>>
Watching out for the boss:
>>5932698
>>5932731
>>5932879

Chasing the bag:
>>5932816
>>5932823
>>5932877


Hybrid:
>>5933298


Well I guess since it's a tie we go with the hybrid option, writing.
>>
>>5933404
But not the Cobra?
>>
>>5933424
Declaring yourself with what sounds like a supervillain name at a meeting of Gotham mobsters is a good way to get a lot of very direct attention, I'd wager.
>>
"I'm watching out for my boss and getting my fuckin check. Aim that at me if it keeps you comfy, but point it at him? Then we have a problem." You say this with your chin slightly raised, you don't look away from Hawthorne's cold stare for even a moment, and you keep your breathing steady despite your pounding heart. After nearly ten seconds straight of silent staring Hawthorne sits down and drops the gun on the table.

"Well I think he's got a knack for it." He says casually.

"Cool as a cucumber." Kimble says through the final mouthful of his bagel.

"It was a bit, action movie-ish." Grey says.

"You know these types of guys, they love showboaty shit like this." Kimble says waving a hand. "Falcone walks around everywhere looking like Marlon Brando on his way to junior prom and do I even have to say anything to prove my point when it comes to Cobblepot?"

Grey nods in acceptance.
"Context matters I guess."

"So I did good?" You ask tentatively.

"Good enough, it's not like this is a deep cover op. You're there to listen and to usher them towards our guys in the sewers."

"If you're lucky you'll get spoken to maybe once or twice at most." Hawthorne brings up.

"And if I'm unlucky?"

"If you're unlucky then Maroni sold you out and you'll be walking into your own funeral." Kimble says before shrugging. "Can't see why he would do that though, he already agreed to work with us so it's not like he could get away with it. But people are stupid so, head on a swivel."

You simply nod, trying not to convey any sense of your panic.

"We have one more thing to handle before we get into a proper rehearsal. Your kit." Grey tells you, pulling up a cardboard box and putting it on the table. "What you walk in with can be a big factor on how well things go and how safe it's gonna be."

"It's a double edged sword, Rook. If you go in strapped up with everything then you aren't making it past a pat down or the questions that come with wearing a vest or having a heater. Of course they'll expect you to have a gun, but a back up piece is still valuable." Hawthorne tells you.

"I have to wear a wire too, don't I?"

"We won't make you, but it would lend a lot to the case." Grey says.

"But if they find it." Kimble warns quietly letting the sentence drift off.

You look over the items stuffed in the box and consider what you want to go in with.

>Head in with the works: Bulletproof Vest, Wire, all Back-up gun.
>Take an offensive kit: Back-up pistol and a Wire
>Take a Defensive kit: Vest and Wire
>Don't push it: Bring just the Wire.
>Don't risk it at all: Leave the wire behind, go in empty and rely on your memory.
>Write-In (Any combo you want/include items not listed here.)
>>
>>5933435
>>Take an offensive kit: Back-up pistol and a Wire
>>
>>5933435
>back-up gun, no wire, nothing else
There's no way a meet this big doesn't have CRAZY security. Maybe even super-science shit. A wire's asking for it.
>>
>>5933444
+1, I think Cobblepot might pull a power move here. As much as the wire for evidence rigor is good, we're dead if we get exposed. What's your reasoning not to include a vest?
>>
>>5933448
>If you go in strapped up with everything then you aren't making it past a pat down or the questions that come with wearing a vest or having a heater.
An extra gun is, I feel easier to hide than a vest, and easier to justify as well. When the busy happens, us wearing a vest makes us look like we knew it was going to happen, whereas having two guns is just the sort of show-offy, sort of paranoia thing a greasy cop might do at his very first mob meeting. Just my thinking, personally.
>>
>>5933451
Ok then I'm convinced. Here's hoping we don't get shot
>>
>>5933435
>Just go with a pistol and a back-up. The vest and the wire are too risky.
>"You think I can get away with faking an ass-dial to record some audio? Tell me now if that's a stupid idea."
>>
>>5933454
The best way to avoid getting shot is to stay out of the way of incoming bullets. This has been our weekly bullet-dodging PSA, thank you for tuning in.
>>
>>5933435
this >>5933444
now for my 'crazy' idea
>grab a voice recorder
>spend 20 minutes turning it on and off while recording a bunch of shitty crime drama/action movie script and book ideas
>do one last one before getting out of the car at the meeting
>'accidentally' leave it recording because you're in a rush to follow Maroni
If they notice it, then we can act embarrassed at our 'hobby' being exposed.
>>
>>5933435
>>Don't risk it at all: Leave the wire behind, go in empty and rely on your memory.
>>
Wildcard, but does the department have a Recorder that is built into a pistol attachment? Certainly, the audio quality may not be the best, but then it makes it look like the back-up gun was what we were trying to hide. But what is really hidden is hidden in plain sight on the visible, main gun.
>>
>>5933583
This tech question might get things interesting, but if a superscience bit detects the wire even then, we're still fucked
>>
>>5933435
>Head in with the works: Bulletproof Vest, Wire, all Back-up gun.

If we’re gonna be a mob boss’s protection then a full tactical kit would certainly make us look the part. A plate carrier would be a great place to hide a wire in as well, just stick it in the outside of the plate pocket.
>>
>>5933706
>If we’re gonna be a mob boss’s protection then a full tactical kit would certainly make us look the part
The problem with wearing that shit is that it screams cop. I know that sounds stupid, but stay with me here.
Yes, they're gonna know we're a "dirty cop". However, consider the fact that they only need to be told as much by Maroni to be filled in on that detail.
If we go in with the works, who is that for? Ostensibly, we shouldn't be worried about anything going down, so why would we bother to go in decked out?
Probably to make sure SOMEBODY knows we're a cop at a glance, right? But who would need to be able to tell cop from capo in an instant?
A team getting ready to bust in and raid the place perhaps?
That's what the other bosses are gonna ask themselves if we go in wearing anything tactical or otherwise blatantly cop.
The best we MIGHT be able to get away with is our duty piece and a backup. Glocks are common enough, and a holdout is a given for any criminal in Gotham.
>>
>>5933435
> Just bring a backup gun
>>
>>5933481
I don't think they'll buy it, but I'm willing to back it if others are.
>>
>>5933435
>>5933444
+1
God fucking damn it, no wire for this? Okay, fine. Whoever Cobblepot is working for gotta be crazy powerful.
We're gonna get shot and also miss out on recording some vital evidence now, I'm telling you.
>>
>>5933444
>>5933448
>>5936078
>>5933460
>>5934682

We are back, hope you guys had a good weekend.

Going in with your gun and your wits only. Writing.
>>
You let your hand linger on the edge of the cardboard box before pulling it back and patting your hip.

"Better the go with the essentials, a wire is good for our case but I don't think it makes or breaks it, plus Cobblepot has been on the wrong end of the Batman before hasn't he? I bet he has all sorts of tricks and friends who would pick up on anything I was carrying."

Hawthorne nods understandingly.

"But." You continue. "You think I can get away with faking an ass-dial to record some audio? Tell me now if that's a stupid idea."

Hawthorne and Grey stare blankly at you, their faces betraying no emotion, Kimble's face is easily read however and heard as he bursts into laughter. Hawthorne smirks and shakes his head.
"You almost sounded like you weren't entirely green there for a second, Rook." He says before joining in with Kimble. You feel your cheeks grow hot.

"It was just an idea." You toss out before also chuckling along with them.

You spot Grey with a small smile on his face watching you all, something in his eyes convey a bittersweet feeling. The hair on your arms raise and you feel again that cold spreading feeling from the crook of your elbow to your forearm.

"Let's not forget we're on the clock, we should go ahead and talk more details."

"Oh shit." Kimble replies, wiping his eyes, "Yeah that's probably a good idea. I'm not worried about recordings anyways since that meet is gonna have a lot of hired help. We catch a couple meatheads on the way out and spin it like someone else set up their Boss and they might just offer up all sorts of information."

"That easy?" You ask.

"Intelligence isn't high up on the list for something you look for in a kneecapper. Penguin's guys probably won't talk but the other three can't be picking the ripest fruit."

"There's a monopoly on good thugs?"

"Gotham's tourism industry could live off costumes being made for guys from Vladivostok, there's a constant flow in and out of new blood, most of the guys with Falcone or Maroni are old blood Gothamites or fresh off the corner punks. Mandragora absorbed the Bertinelli's and their stockpile of men. Penguin though, I remember one time we-"

The door opens and you see a Female Officer holding a note.
"Excuse me, DeLucia?"

You raise a hand and she hands you a small note.
"Someone called the front desk and said you left your lights on in the parking lot, they gave your plate number."

You rack your brain, did you forget?

"Uh thanks, who was it so I can say thanks."

She shrugs and turns to head off. You feel a ripple around your collar as your neck hair unfurls, somewhere in Gotham hot tears stream down a cheek and drop onto cold grey concrete. You blink and find yourself back in the moment.

"Well now my train of thought is all fucked up." Kimble says shaking his head and digging into the bag for another bagel.

"We should be focusing on work, not stories." Grey says slapping down a file.

"It's a good story." Kimble mumbles
>>
Hawthorne looks at you.
"Go turn off your lights, Rook. I'll get these two back on track."

"These two? I'm the one trying to direct this." Grey says with his hands out.

"I'm telling you the story will knock your socks off, it involves a guy with gold teeth." Kimble says to nobody in particular.

>"I'll be right back guys, Hawthorne do your thing."
>"I'll be right back, and when I do I want to heat about the man with Golden Teeth."
>"I just gotta handle my lights and we can get back to planning Grey."
>Write-In.
>>
>>5936376
>"I just gotta handle my lights and we can get back to planning Grey."
>>
>>5936376
>"I just gotta handle my lights and we can get back to planning Grey."
>>
>>5936376
>"I just gotta handle my lights and we can get back to planning Grey."
SIM bro? You OK there? Did the Darkseid box vision fuck you up?
>>
>>5936402
He probably saw it and decided to push the issue with his bizarro shivers.
>>
>>5936376
>>"I'll be right back guys, Hawthorne do your thing."
>>
File: IsItSIM.jpg (48 KB, 499x465)
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48 KB JPG
>>5936381
>>5936385
>>5936402

"I just gotta handle my lights and we can get back to planning, Grey." You tell the Detective giving him a nod.

"At least someone is listening to me." He mutters as he opens the file and begins plucking glossy headshots for the board.

Your trek outside the station is no different than usual except you now fight a small stream of people coming in rather than riding the flow out. You step into the open air of the apartment and notice your dome lights inside the car on, dimly shining in the early morning light, you must have forgotten to turn them off after all. As you open the door and lean in to flick the light off you feel a rock drop to the pit of your belly as a buzzing comes from your glove box. You flick the light and check your shoulders, none of the few meandering people in the parking lot give you much notice as you slip in and close your door behind you before leaning down to open the phone.

Four missed calls spread out over the last hour all from the same number. Your finger hits redial before you can even think about it.

Click.

"So you saw it too?" You ask quietly.

Silence is your response, the only noise you can hear is a faint series of exhales. Finally you hear a crackle as the phone is pulled away from where it was being held, the sound comes in clearly now and you can hear it for what it is.

Sobbing.

"Detective." It says quietly, the voice still modulated but in congruence with the shaky breathing it warbles and pitch shifts. "I did it again."

You close your eyes and control your breathing slowly. You feel a burning sting in the back of your throat as the orange juice from this morning gurgles at the edge of your esophagus.

"What did you do."

"I killed. I fucking killed someone." It says.

A spark of rage flares up in you.
"Why are you acting like this is anything new to you?"

A choked heave rings through the speaker into your ears. Your hands feel cold and tingle.
"It wasn't for my father, Detective. I killed for me. Because I couldn't help myself. It was just so loud, it was so fucking loud."

You swallow your disgust.
"Relax. Tell me what happened."

"My father had me scouting."

"Scouting for what?"

"No, no I can't." It whispers. "I was with a woman. She was actually nice to me, her car had a flat tire."

"Where was this?"

"When she handed me her iron I just couldn't help myself. It told me my time was up."

"Where did this happen?"

"It just felt so right."

"Shut the fuck up and tell me where she is."

"I did end up changing the tire anyways." It says, the voice far away in a distant memory. "She's gone, Detective. I packed her away in the trunk and got rid of the car."
>>
You pull the phone away from your ear and lean your head back, despair plucks at your heart like a world class harpist, you hear the murmurings from the phone but you find yourself struggling to care about anything he has to say. Maybe you will actually kill him when you both meet. Maybe it's what he deserves.

You blink. No, that's not right. That isn't who you are, is it? You look down at the cell phone still spilling indecipherable mutterings from it's speaker. Maybe he's just rubbing off on you.

You lift the phone back up.
"Detective?" It quietly asks, like a young boy waiting for the other shoe to drop after breaking mother's vase.

"Tell me where you sent her car and I'll talk to you. You wanted me to be your therapist? To put you on the right path? To curb the voice? Then you do as I say." You speak in a commanding tone. Top of your profile for SIM, a deferment to authority be it the city, his father, or now you.

"You'll find the car in an old garage in Coventry, near the sewage plant, I figured the smell would.." It drifts off.

"You said the city got loud, what do you mean? Was the voice you heard yelling?"

"It wasn't the voice that got loud. The last thing I heard was that my time was up and then after that it was the loudest noise I'd ever heard. If it wasn't coming from whatever fucked up genes I have then it would have made my ears bleed. It was like a scream mixed with old brakes but cranked up to a hundred. The woman, Sarah, she touched my arm and I.." It trails again.

"Yeah, I know." You say flatly. "Why kill her then?"

"It was the only way to make the noise stop." It says meekly. "I'm a bad person." It blurts out with another wave of stifled crying.

"You need to pull yourself together, you aren't the victim, you murdered an innocent fucking woman so save your crying."

Sniffles and snorts rattle through.
"You're right, Detective. But I am the one who has to live with this, she wasn't like the others. She wasn't a car thief or a pickpocket or a loan shark like the others, she was pure."

You clench your fist and take a slow steady breath. Let him talk, it's been your approach every time so far.

"She was nice, and I took that from Gotham. Makes me wonder if good people can even exist in this place. You were my reason for getting out of bed, Detective. I tried calling you and calling you when I got your text but you didn't answer so I had to make you answer."

Your eyes widen and you look to the door, the light switch, your seat. Your thought it cut off.
"I'm depressed not sloppy, Detective. If you're thinking I left forensics on your car you're wrong. Same with Sarah's car. I was raised a neat freak."

You frown but file away something for later. He has to live within less than an hour of the station to be able to turn these on, leave, and get to a quiet place to have his breakdown. Unless he lives like Question.

"You said you were depressed?" You ask, prodding.
>>
"I killed someone who didn't deserve it, wouldn't you be? The same thing that lets men in your shoes go to sleep is the same thing that lets me do it. Knowing that the person I killed had it coming."

"That isn't what police work is." You defend before an abrupt raise in his voice catches you off guard.

"There are bigger murderers than me in this city, Detective! Swine who play with and throw away lives like poker chips, people stealing the only means a mother has of feeding her child, and people who your organization will never touch because you're so deep in their pocket you should be collecting fucking lint!"

The voice now almost sounds frenzied, if there wasn't a phone between you it's likely you'd be coated in spittle and hot breath.

"The more I dwell on it the sadder it gets. What life is there for good people in Gotham? Are there good people in Gotham?" The voice gets tender, introspective, and oh so quiet.

"Of course there are.." You tell it, your voice soft against your own will.

"I don't know. We talked about redemption, absolution, and the recompense people have to pay. But is there even a price for men like me? I'm tired, Detective. Everything feels heavy."

"You can lighten some of that up by coming clean, turning yourself in." You ask, the back of your lizard brain still struggling to hold back the barrage of abuse you want to unload even if just verbally.

"I am coming clean, Detective. That's what our whole relationship is about, you're the only person I can tell that I'm tired. Everything is so hard, and I don't mean out of a sense of fatigue or exhaustion. The thought of doing something, anything, is just too much. The only time I've been able to muster up the power to do anything is when I don't think, when I just let instinct take over and drive me on. But at that point, am I not just an animal? How can someone live like that?"

You take a moment to let the silence linger, but it seems he got it out of his system. Whatever it was.
"Detective, how do I move past this?"

>"You don't, you sit with it. You deserve no forgiveness for what you did and when I find you, you won't get any from me."
>"You take it one day at a time, you slipped up but that doesn't have to be the end of everything, if you come into the station and let us take you in we can get you help. Psychiatric treatment is what you need, not a cell."
>I don't know. The only thing I do know is that this city does have good people in it and they need to be protected from people like you."
>Write-In

Another fat conversation with SIM, I very much so enjoy writing these back and forths using the baseline of Mark that you guys have built up with your decisions, I'll leave this up to let everyone get a chance to weigh in and sit on what you learned. I'll see you all at the usual time.
>>
>>5936522
>>"You don't, you sit with it. You deserve no forgiveness for what you did and when I find you, you won't get any from me."
>>
>>5936522
>You take it one day at a time, you slipped up but that doesn't have to be the end of everything, if you come into the station and let us take you in we can get you help. Psychiatric treatment is what you need, not a cell
>write in: But a cell in the beginning of the treatment may be needed. Relapse is a thing after all
>>
>>5936522
Damn. Shit's heavy.
>>
>>5936522
>"You don't, you sit with it. You deserve no forgiveness for what you did and when I find you, you won't get any from me."
+
>Write In: "But at the end of the day, how I feel about you doesn't matter. Whether it's me or some other cop that catches you, you'll be off the streets for good and nothing more than a bad memory. What you choose to do after that, whether you try redeem yourself or spend the rest of your life in a cell raging at the world like a feral animal, that's on you. I can only hope that you'll make best of the supports and mental treatments you'll get."

If this quest was more comedic, I'd even push more on his animal comments while making fun of super villains (in an attempt to sour the idea in his head). Something like pointing out that Batman already has a 'cat' burglar and a Penguin, so if he's going to embrace his inner furry then he could grab some spandex and call himself the Stupendous Sea Cucumber.
>>
>>5936536
Regarding tone, can I actually ask you guys how you feel about it? I am going for a more grounded darker approach for the story but I have seen a few people lamenting the absence of giant typewriters and other accouterments of Gotham.

Reply to this and tell me your thoughts.
>>
>>5936540
> I am going for a more grounded darker approach for the story but I have seen a few people lamenting the absence of giant typewriters and other accouterments of Gotham.
The quest itself has plenty going on already, so the relative absence of wacky shit wasn't really on my mind. But now that you ask, I just figured that stuff still existed in Gotham, but just wasn't present in this specific narrative (for now).
At the moment, Mark's just a beat cop struggling to learn the ropes of his job. All the trappings of classical Gotham have their place, but I feel we'll get there when we get there.
Do feel free to drop in a little bit of that Silver Age spice if you want though. I wouldn't mind that at all.
>>
>>5936540
We're a rookie beat cop, not a detective assigned to the wacky cases or a hero trying to fight super villains, so everything being more grounded and dark makes sense. If we ever have a stroke and try to capture a super villain, accidentally (on our end) get caught up in one of their big plans, or go on to more directly help out/work with super heroes, then seeing more traditional comic book things and tones pop up would be perfectly fine.
As for the lack of giant props out and about on random Gotham rooftops, just offhandedly mention the "Sprang Act" in a conversation.

If I can throw in a request, then I'd love it if at some point we investigate a break-in/assault at an old man's house, only for it to be Alan Scott.
The combination of him being a war hero, former/current Justice Society member (depending on how you want to do that and what drama exists between them and the JL), and his friends both old and young constantly checking up on him/'subtly' investigating the crime and us (as one of the officers assigned to the case) in their hero persona would make for some nice chaos. Hell, he's the safest hero we can interact with in Gotham aside from Wildcat.
>>
>>5936540
>I have seen a few people lamenting the absence of giant typewriters and other accouterments of Gotham.
That's ME, you faggot!
>tell me your thoughts
Love your quest, keep it up! And whatever >>5936562 and >>5936579 said. Don't forget the silly giant office supplies and other crazy architecture twists exist in Gotham, but save it for where appropriate. You got tone and everything fine as is right now. Who knows how later threads and story arcs will be? Provided you and your motivation and your quest live that long for it.

>>5936579
That break-in idea plus the old and new themes reminds me of the Owl Man stuff in Watchmen

>>5936522
Backing >>5936526
>>
>>5936616
Side note for YOU: I like your "That's ME you 'slur'" bit, it always makes me chuckle.
>>
>>5936619
Thank you. As you can clearly tell, I mean no harm by it. Personally I imagine it said the way people in movies say lines like "that's MISTER Anonymous to you!" or the way Vince McMahon does the iconic "IT'S ME AUSTIN!"
>>
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>>5936515
>Maybe you will actually kill him when you both meet. Maybe it's what he deserves.
Glad to see that my repeated cries to kill the guy are being represented in the form of intrusive thoughts. Seems like Mark has some points in half light after all.
>>5936522
>I don't know. The only thing I do know is that this city does have good people in it and they need to be protected from people like you."
>>5936540
It's pretty ok. The "evil superman" and "darkseid invasion threat" are less grounded and more comic book, but those are not the actual things we deal with, just spooky vague threats, so it's fine. I like the SIM as our nemesis(meaning I hate him, good job), I like dealing with Dent and politics(meaning I hate it, good job) and I like the cop gang.
Gotham being a weird shitty surreal city made out of gothic urban legends is always cool, and my preferred take on the place, but you don't HAVE to include a gargoyle into every scene. I'd say just add some flavor/ambience when you write locations, and you're good.
>>
>>5936633
>and I like the cop gang.
You forgot your (meaning I like it, good job) there, buddy
>>
>>5936522
>>I don't know. The only thing I do know is that this city does have good people in it and they need to be protected from people like you."
>>
>>5936522
>write in
>Part of moving past it is confronting what you did. There's no sugar coating it this time, you're a sick fuck, sure, but normally you're not this sick. Let's talk about the noise, is this something new? Also that's what depression is called retard, it's like there's a weight between your shoulders that makes you hunch, all you feel is sadness and stress. As for the one who has to deal with this? Are you fucking dumb? I have to deal with this as well, I have to find the person who is murdering all these people, I have to comfort the fucker who just snapped and murdered some innocent woman and now I, once again, have to help him calm down. I might be an idiot, but I'm not fucking retarded, stop your dumb 'woe is me bullshit' because like it or not I'm involved now too. Listen, it has to stop, we can work together on this, I hear the whispers too, but Gotham wants me to help it, not hurt it.. So help me help you, since you're part of it.

I have returned with my schizo posts.
>>
>>5936540
When we see the batcave in a shivers vision while high on sewer gas if we don't see a gigantic penny or a t-rex skull or a humongous rotary telephone we riot.
>>
>>5936808
If Batman doesn't immediately stop and turn to look at the spot Mark is standing in as Mark views via Shivers vision, I will be baffled
>>
>>5936811
>getting eye of sauron'd by batman
Well, at least it wouldn't be Alfred.
>>
>>5936522
>"You take it one day at a time, you slipped up but that doesn't have to be the end of everything, if you come into the station and let us take you in we can get you help. Psychiatric treatment is what you need, not a cell."
>"By the way, I think there may be a connection between the noise you heard and...something I saw, last night. It feels like something terrible is coming to Gotham soon, or is going to happen to it...something along those lines. Something the likes of which we've never seen before. Just thought I should warn you, since we're the only ones who stand a chance of knowing what'll happen before it does."
>>
>>5936808

Oh but you've already been in the Batcave, Anon. (or have you?) Not only that but the giant penny has already been alluded to as well.
>>
You can't move on:
>>5936523
>>5936536

One Day At a Time:
>>5936526
>>5936616
>>5936536
>>5936903

We don't know:
>>5936633
>>5936669

Writing with some of that write-in fusion.
>>
You sigh. Despite all the anger and the repulsion you feel towards SIM you can't help but offer a silver lining, to try and help.

"You take it one day at a time, you slipped up but that doesn't mean it has to be the end of everything, if you come into the station and let us take you in we can get you help. You need psychiatric treatment, not a cell."

There's a few seconds of pause before the voice whispers.
"I could almost think you really cared about me, Detective. Would I really be getting a Doctor instead of a Warden?"

"Well a cell might be needed at the beginning of your treatment, relapse is a thing after all."

"And then I pop out on the other side, a normal member of society?" It laughs bitterly. "I doubt it."

"Listen. Just come in, end this."

"I'm trying to, Detective, but you won't HELP. ME. I am calling you because I am TRYING to end this, just not in the way you want. I am the one who has to deal with this intrusion in my head making me do things I don't want to, I want to end the voice and you want to end my actions, you think this all ends with iron bars or a needle? No, even if I'm behind foot thick padded walls in Arkham the voice isn't going to go away, you're asking me to turn myself in for a lifetime of torture. You want me to turn myself in and spend the rest of my life reflecting on the worst moment of my life?" It's voice picks up speed as it talks, anger building and sparking anger in you.

There's no sugar coating it this time. You feel something inside snap as you let loose your own torrent.

"You're a sick fuck, but usually you aren't this sick. Part of moving past the things you've done is confronting what you did, accepting the consequences of your actions, and showing remorse to more people than just yourself. As for the one who has to deal with this? Are you fucking stupid? I have to deal with this as well, I have to find the person who is murdering all these people, I have to comfort the fucker who just snapped and murdered some innocent woman and now I, once again, have to help him calm down. I might be a rookie but I'm far from dumb, stop your dumb 'woe is me' bullshit, because like it or not I'm involved now too." You spit out the final words and lean forward on your wheel, exhaustion rolling over you and it's not even 10AM.

"I see." It answers you, similar to the way a scolded child would answer their father.

You find yourself absent of energy to even raise your voice anymore, all you can do is make one last plea.
" Listen." You begin before stopping and taking an extra second to collect yourself fully. "This has to stop, we can work together on this, I hear the whispers too, but Gotham wants me to help it, not hurt it.. So help me help you, since you're part of it."

"Yin and Yang. Light and Dark." It replies to you quietly and contemplatively. "I do need to confront what I've done, don't I?"

"Yes, so just-"
>>
"I have to go, Detective." It cuts you off. "You've given me an idea, a way to atone maybe."

"No, no. Stay on the phone with me, what's your plan?"

"Don't worry, nobody innocent is going to get hurt."

"I don't want ANYONE getting hurt, I want you to do the right thing and come in with me."

There's a few moments of silence.

"The vehicle is a white sedan. Harlow Motors. I left the keys in the front seat."

"Do not hang up."

"It's almost time we should meet in person, Detective. If you meant what you said about helping Gotham then you'll want to hear me out, but I need time to think about it. I know you'll go there with the intent of arresting me but maybe once you hear what I have to say you'll reconsider."

"I'm not sure about that."

"Then we will just have to see. Will you meet me? No weapons or phones, just hear out my idea when I've finished thinking it through?"

>"I'll give you a chance to talk to me, unarmed and alone." (Lie or Truth?)
>"I'll hear you out but if you think I'm getting anywhere near you without a weapon you're mistaken."
>"Fine, I'll listen to you. In a public place."
>"No way in hell, if we meet it's ending in handcuffs or a body bag."
>Write-In
>>
>>5937183
>"Fine, I'll listen to you. In a public place."
Useful intel. Maybe even an ID. Worth the risk.
>>
>>5937183
>"Fine, I'll listen to you. In a public place."
>>
>>5937183
>"Fine, I'll listen to you. In a public place."
And here we go
>>
>>5937183
I won't lie, I'm tempted as fuck to go with the first option as a Lie and contact J'onn to pretend to be us. He's psychic, he can shapeshift, and he's guaranteed to be capable of overpowering this nigga.
>>
>>5937183
>>"Fine, I'll listen to you. In a public place."
>But there's going to be rules, do you understand? No more tricks, no more games, just us and talking. If you do something dumb like trying to kill your father which I REALLY hope you're not planning, then when we meet I am going to find the nearest fucking glass of liquid and throw it in your face. Also I kinda need to have my phone can we compromise on that?
>>
>>5937223
>Also I get ONE free slap, I earned it.
>>
>>5937183
>>"Fine, I'll listen to you. In a public place."
>Write-In
"But if you try anything funny I will arrest you."
>>
>>5937192
>>5937194
>>5937197
>>5937223
>>5937303

"Fine." You state, desperate to end this perverse discussion. "I'll meet you and hear you out but ONLY in a public space. Where there are rules, do you understand?"

"I do, Detective. I'll contact you with more details later." The voice is slightly uplifted, hopeful even.

"I just hope whatever you're planning isn't unbelievably stupid, like if you were plotting to kill your dear old dad I would classify that as unbelievably dumb. Just a heads up."

Silence responds.

"Hello? I swear to fucking Go-"

A beep disconnects your call, your gut churns and ties itself up as certainty settles on you that he is definitely planning something unbelievably stupid.

A short meditation session later and you toss the phone back into the glove box and start making your way back inside. By now everyone in the board room has descended on the bagels and settled their argument by keeping their mouths busy.

"Get lost, Rook?" Hawthorne asks you, swiping some cream cheese from his mouth with a thumb.

"Got a call, had to take it." You say giving Hawthorne a deep stare.

His chewing slows and he sets his food down on a folded napkin.
"Everything alright?"

"I'll be getting a call back sometime."

Grey and Hawthorne share a look and both nod slightly. Kimble's eyes drift between the pair and you.

"Anything going on that I should know about?" He asks, his eyes sharp and focused. Searching.

"Commander is on his ass." Hawthorne jumps in for you, his voice steady and calm like all other times. "Rook is embarrassed the Commander heard about his nickname."

Kimble's eyes bore into you but you maintain a sheepish expression, his gaze softens and he shakes his head.
"The Cobra strikes again." He quips. You make sure to not let out too large a breath of relief.

"We were finishing up and decided we don't really have much else to do, you'll get the debrief, ROE, and all that good stuff for the OP on the morning of. It's in two days so we figure you should spend your time making sure you go into this cool and confident." Grey tells you, cracking the seal to another plastic tub of cream cheese. "Those are the two greatest assets of a UC, DeLucia. Even if you get caught with your pants around your ankles staying calm and projecting confidence can get you out of some tough spots."

"So what's the plan for the rest of the day then? You guys had me come in just to point a plastic gun at me?"

"That's not all." Kimble says, standing and putting a hand on your shoulder. "We also wanted some breakfast."
>>
You give Kimble a disappointed glare as he steps past, you laughing to himself.

"Commander had strict orders, we aren't supposed to put you on any duty until the OP is over. Kimble agreed." Hawthorne says with his palms up.

"But I went out for my CI and Kimble and I hit the streets just the other day."

"Because those were his directives towards you as his TO, I'm sorry son, but Kimble is the one who decides your schedule at the moment and he finds it prudent that you stay on the bench this close to having to do UC."

"What do I do then?"

Hawthorne looks around.
"Well you're off official duty but so am I, we could put in some range time or more sparring. Would be a good break from the paperwork."

"Or." Grey cuts in. "He could get to work on the real fundamentals of policing which isn't shooting and fighting, you said you were interested in making Detective one day?"

"One day." You repeat.

"That's a leadership position, believe it or not, it isn't just the Head Detective giving out orders. You get to a crime scene full of uni's and this shield." He taps his badge which hangs from a thin black cord around his neck. "This gives you the right to lead your fellow officers, I can give you a taste of that."

"Like a deputy?"

"Vaguely. I have a few units working with the construction crews contracted by City Hall. They work the parallel streets of our OP and are the way we want to scout the sewer situation, subtly. Seeing as the job will be mainly underground how would you like to be the GCPD Liaison, help guide and lead that search."

You look to Hawthorne and he offers you nothing but a shrug.
"Do whatever you want, Rook, you know I'm not the sentimental type. I won't be offended."

"You could always go and harass Kimble to see if he'll take you on a ride along, if you don't think you can handle it." Those final words come with an eyebrow raise and a slight smirk. A challenge.

>"I can handle it, I'll help map out the sewers."
>"I'd rather work on my aim and my grappling than go wading through sewage if it's all the same, Grey."
>"Being on the street and answering calls is the entire reason I joined up, to help regular people with their problems. I'm gonna go talk to Kimble."
>"Could I just go home? I'm still pretty exhausted." (Actually Go Home)
>"Could I just go home? I'm still pretty exhausted." (Contact someone outside of work, like Question, Caesar, Banks, Etc.)
>Write-In
>>
>>5937386
>>"I can handle it, I'll help map out the sewers."
>>Write-In
"But first let me change into something different. If you don't mind Grey. "
>>
>>5937386
+1 this >>5937393
>>
>>5937386
>"I can handle it, I'll help map out the sewers."
We're kinda the expert on this one. Gotta go lend a hand.
>>
>>5937393
Oh yeah, supporting this bit. I'd rather not get our good threads all fucked up.
>>
>>5937393
+1
>>
>>5937381
Ah I fucking knew it, the little shit.
>I know how to fix this
>Have you tried not being retarded?
>hangs up on us
>"I can handle it, I'll help map out the sewers."
>>
>>5937393
+1
>>
>>5937393
>>5937396
>>5937399
>>5937412
>>5937588
>>5937436

"I can handle it." You tell him confidently. "But first things first I need to change out of these."

"Don't blame you, I keep extra sweats and a shirt in my locker if you need em, Rook."

"No need, I have an extra uniform in my trunk for situations like this." You call over your shoulder as you head for the glass door. "I'll be right back."

"Meet me in the motor bay, when you get changed." Grey calls after you.

As the door closes and you head back to your car, once again, Hawthorne looks to Grey.

"He's more of a boy scout than you were." He says quietly with a dry chuckle.

Grey shakes his head.
"Funny. I was just thinking he's almost as reckless than you."

"I never got a Serial Killer on my back before."

"Right, just a Mafia."

"Exactly." Hawthorne replies with a smug smile. "Just a Mafia."

=========

You finish tossing your War Bag into the back of the cruiser and close the lid as Grey approaches you. He holds out a small folder to you, inside are multiple pages coated in a thin layer of plastic.

"This is what Hawthorne and I have been working on, it isn't perfect but we took your drawings and some original blueprints and put together something that half makes sense. Between the crew and your ability I'm guessing it won't be too much trouble to find a path that works for us."

"Yes, sir. I'm hoping it doesn't prove too difficult."

"It's a simple job, but important, I want you to know I trust you to get it done. So don't let me down." He claps your shoulder and gives it a firm shake. "You're the face of the GCPD to these men and to City Hall who contracts them. So put your best foot forward. Understood?"

"Yes, sir. I'll do my best."

Grey smiles and pulls his arm back, gesturing towards your cruiser.
"Then get it done, Officer DeLucia."

You give him a curt nod and head for the driver seat like you'd done many times already but now a small tremor runs through your hand as you turn the key. Anxiety? Towards your assignment or towards what may be waiting for you with SIM, you shake the thoughts from your head and bring yourself back to focus on the task at hand.
>>
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The drive over you find yourself in your own head, a habit you notice happening more and more recently, thinking mainly about what Grey had said: That you are a representative of the GCPD not just to these men but also City Hall. Your stomach tightens, Dent is sure to want a detailed report when he finds out you're involved, you just hope if you're forced to deal with Dent again that it's for as short a time as you can.

As you get closer you start to see more and more familiar landmarks from your excursion with Hawthorne, the gas station being your marker as you fly past it, Grey's plan of entering the sewer system from a parallel neighborhood is a good one that minimizes your exposure to anyone who may recognize you come day of the sting.

"He's clinical." Hawthorne told you about Grey after your first time meeting the man. "He's logical to a fault though, used to really struggle with people but I knocked that out of him."

You see what he means the more you interact with him. Your thoughts are interrupted by the crackling of gravel and other debris under your wheels as you turn into an open space between two buildings sectioned off by chain-link fence complete with blue tarp flapping in the intermittent gusts of wind. You pop the door and step out, you don't get three steps before a man with a white hard hat approaches you. He offers a heavy gloved hand which you shake and he gives you an up and down.

"Douglass Watts, I'm the head of this crew. I was expecting a Detective."

"I'm here on behalf of Detective Grey and the GCPD, I was the Officer who helped with recreating the sewer maps." You offer.

He sucks his teeth and checks his clipboard, taking a thick rectangular block and scribbling something down.
"Whatever, pal. Long as you got the badge you're all the same to me."

Before you can reply he turns around and peels off a thick glove with his teeth, sticks his fingers into his mouth and let's out a sharp piercing whistle.
"Everyone. Pack your shit, get your gear back on, and gather round. This here is the Detective who's gonna lead us on this hunt."

"I'm an Officer." You correct him quietly.

"I heard you the first time, bud." He replies without looking at you. "None of these guys, or me, know the difference so."

You sigh and watch as the half a dozen or so men begin ambling towards you, slowly you realize with a little fear that they are gathering as a crowd in front of you. They are looking to you to lay down orders.

"Everyone listen to him very closely, I'm sure the Detective likes repeating himself even less than I do." Douglas hollers at the men, he slowly turns and puts his clipboard down by his waist before giving you a nod. "Go ahead, Detective please."

You nod and take a step forward, the orders are simple enough but you decide to go about this..
>>
>"The job is simple. We get into these sewers and make sure what we have on paper lines up with what we see. If you listen to me, stay focused, and listen to my commands then I'll get you all out of here before sundown. This only takes as long as you make it."
>"Hello everyone, I want to thank you all for agreeing to help out the GCPD today. Now what we have to do isn't life or death but it is important, so when we get down there make sure you're marking any anomalies or differences between the map and sewer. If we work together this won't take long at all."
>"Your supervisor is right, I don't like repeating myself so I'll say this once. Listen to my orders, this is a police operation and any slip up can result in bad men eluding justice. If you don't want that hanging over your head then you need to do what I say when I say it. Understood?"
>Write-In (Encouraged)

Writing Anons Rejoice, time to stretch your speech muscles [spoilers]
>>
>>5938279
>"Look, I can't give a lot of details, but this is a big deal. What we're looking for is thoroughness, not a rush job. But here's the thing: doing it once, properly the right way is waaay faster than retracing our steps because we did it wrong. I know none of us want to have to go back down once we already wrapped it up once, so let's do this right, alright?"
>>
>>5938279
>>"Hello everyone, I want to thank you all for agreeing to help out the GCPD today. Now what we have to do isn't life or death but it is important, so when we get down there make sure you're marking any anomalies or differences between the map and sewer. If we work together this won't take long at all."
>>
>Write-In
>"Hello everyone, I want to thank you all for agreeing to help out the GCPD today. The job is simple, but important. If we aren't thorough then they'll be sending us back down there, and I know none of us want to have to go back in once we already wrapped it up once. So, let's do this right the first time rather than hurrying up to get away from the smell. We're going to be making sure that what we have on paper lines up with what we see down there, and to report any anomalies or differences between this map and the sewer. Any questions while we're still in fresh air?"

Were these guys clued into why we're investigating the sewers, or just know that the GCPD wanted to investigate them? That would change whether or not someone would ask about why we are and whether we can evade with just a general "The full details belong to an active investigation I don't have authorization to reveal. Just that we need to especially pay attention to what would help or hinder moving people around." It's not really a full lie but it will probably make them assume its a human trafficking or drug smuggling investigation instead of a mob boss escape route.
>>
>>5938375
+1
>>
>>5938279
>>5938375
+1
>>
>>5938279
>"Hello everyone, I want to thank you all for agreeing to help out the GCPD today. Now what we have to do isn't life or death but it is important, so when we get down there make sure you're marking any anomalies or differences between the map and sewer. If we work together this won't take long at all."
>>
Apologies guys, something came up that's going to keep me occupied for today and possibly tomorrow (but I'm hoping not)

I'll work to get an update out quick as I can tomorrow if I am free.
>>
>>5939129
No rush, chief.
>>
>>5939129
Thanks for letting us know, and I hope all is well.
>>
>>5938279
>>"The job is simple. We get into these sewers and make sure what we have on paper lines up with what we see. If you listen to me, stay focused, and listen to my commands then I'll get you all out of here before sundown. This only takes as long as you make it."
A bit cold for Mark, but I'm not a write-in kind of guy.

Worst case scenario here would be us getting caught on a camera or getting snitched on by one of the workers. Because if anyone tells the mob that the same guy that's currently in the meeting was checking their escape route couple days back, we're fucked. But unless that happens, this job should be easy, if a bit trippy.
Also may want to not tell the workers we're a meta because there's only one known meta in the force. Fuck man, trying to have opsec while being a public figure sucks.
>>
>>5938375
>>5938437
>>5938491

"Hello everyone." You start off, smiling. "I want to thank you all for agreeing to help out the GCPD today. The job is simple, but important. If we aren't thorough then they'll be sending us back down there, and I know none of us want to have to go back in once we already wrapped it up once. So, let's do this right the first time rather than hurrying up to get away from the smell. We're going to be making sure that what we have on paper lines up with what we see down there, and to report any anomalies or differences between this map and the sewer. Any questions while we're still in fresh air?"

"Any idea how long this is supposed to take?" A voice from the back calls out.

"Hoping to have it done in dusted in under two hours, with the amount of men we have I don't think it's going to be very hard to pull off."

"Is this gonna get my parking tickets cleared for me?" Another man calls out, a ripple of chuckles come from the crowd and you smirk but the laughter quickly dies down when Douglas casts a stray eye over the crowd and then to you, nodding.

"Uh, no sir. Today from what I was told you're getting a full days pay from the city for a couple hours of your time. Maybe if I end up being the one to pull you over we can talk about it then." You give what you hope is a charming smile and then sit in silence for a few seconds looking expectantly for more questions. After about ten seconds of awkward silence you tap your clipboard and rock on your heels.

"Alright well if we're all clear then.."

A hand raises above the crowd, skinny at the wrist but the palms and fingers are darkened with calluses. Douglas points.

"Pete. This ain't grade school, say what you gotta."

The crowd shifts as Pete steps to the front, he can't be much older than 19 but he looks just as grizzled as most of the other crew here.

"I just wanted to ask..and I thought maybe I shouldn't..."

"Pete. If you're revving up to say something then sack up and say it. I wanna knock this out." A rougher voice from behind him calls out.

Pete looks at you directly.
"I was just wondering, what exactly is it we're looking for? Or doing? I know you said it's to map out the sewers but, why?"

"That ain't our place, Petey." Douglas says.

"I'm just saying, boss. We ain't like gonna run into Killer Croc or something down there are we? A full days pay for a couple hours sounds like Hazard."

You notice now a shifting in the crowd's faces, less bored and apathetic and more quizzical. A few more men quietly voice their own theories.

"...probably has to do with the construction a street over.."

"...Croc is in Blackgate ain't he...."

"...why send a cop if it ain't dangerous.."
>>
Douglas gives you a look and you recognize the cue. You step forward to address them.

>"City Hall had a break-in years ago, they lost a lot of old city planning documents including these sewers. We are doing this job to help complete the archives. Nothing more."
>"We've had complaints of noises coming from manholes in the area, city hall wants us to make sure no pipes are close to bursting and that no bums are down there camping, it's a routine patrol in a non-routine location so they figured it best to connect me with an experienced crew."
>"A street over from here is a strip joint, it's routinely used as a hangout for criminals, we think they have access to the sewers from their building and want to get a map of the tunnels so the next time they use em, we can grab em."
>"I know you guys have questions, but in the interest of security I can't answer them right now, what I can tell you is that this job is not dangerous aside from the usual slipping hazards and other stuff that comes with going down there."
>"I'm afraid that's the business of the GCPD, Pete. Anyone who isn't comfortable with heading down is free to leave but you'll be giving up your pay for the day as well."
>Write-In
>>
>>5939897
>>Write-In
>"We had a runner who slipped in through the storm drains on the streets. We went in after him but he gave us the run around. We picked him up later but some of the brass decided it couldn't hurt to get a handle on the ways around down there if some skinny thug can juke us like that. You know how bosses bosses can be. Shit flows downhill."
I have no idea. But everyone can get behind "My boss is a dick and giving me the shit job."
>>
>>5939912
Supporting, they might sympathize with us a little better if this is something we got saddled with rather than something we concocted.
>>
>>5939897
>"City Hall had a break-in years ago, they lost a lot of old city planning documents including these sewers. We are doing this job to help complete the archives. Nothing more."
>"We don't expect any hazards that you wouldn't see in any other city. But on the slim - and I do mean slim - chance that Gotham decides to pull a Gotham Special within this exact two hour window on today of all days, you have my full permission to do whatever it takes to get out of there alive and healthy. But seriously, it should be an extremely simple and routine job."
>>
>>5939912
+1
>>
>>5939912
supporting
>>
>>5939897
>"I know you guys have questions, but in the interest of security I can't answer them right now, what I can tell you is that this job is not dangerous aside from the usual slipping hazards and other stuff that comes with going down there."
>"I'm afraid that's the business of the GCPD, Pete. Anyone who isn't comfortable with heading down is free to leave but you'll be giving up your pay for the day as well."
I just don't like the idea of putting on a uniform and using that position of trust to lie to law-abiding civvies. Withholding info is fine, making up a fake story to trick them into staying isn't.
>>
>>5939954
I am suspicious of Pete, really. He's got city miles on him.
>>
>>5939959
That's just what big city construction does to a guy, especially in a burg like Gotham.
>>
>>5939975
Perhaps.
>>
>>5939912
>>5939914
>>5939927
>>5939942

You hold up a hand and quiet the murmuring crowd of blue collar men. They look to you as you take a breath and rub your neck.

"We had a runner who slipped in through the storm drains on the streets. We ended up looking for him but he gave us the run around."

"So we're helping you track a convict?" A voice calls. You reply with a curt shake of your head.

"No. We picked him up later on but the brass decided it won't hurt us to get a handle on how to get around down there. If a skinny thug can juke us like that well.." You let the sentence drift off and shrug. "You know how it is, shit flows downhill."

A few of the men mumble in agreement and Pete seems to lose some of the tension in his face. Douglas however watches you with a steady gaze, it isn't openly negative but you can read between the lines with just how long he's staring into you.

"If that's the last of the questions, get your headlamps, your shin boots, and your nose plugs if you got em. We're about to get into the shit, literally." He turns as the men begin to gather their things, once again he gives you a long measured stare before giving a grunt and nodding over your shoulder. You see a headlamp and pair of tall rubber boots.

"What about the nose plugs?" You ask half joking.

He holds up his hand and wiggles his cracked dirty fingers.
"You brought yours from home, it looks like."

=======

Sulfur, rotten eggs, human shit, and the funk of mold sit prominently on the heavy air of the sewers. You feel the air stick and grip to your skin, you may have to burn this uniform by the time you're done here, tears threaten to sting the corners of your eyes but you manage to hold them back. Douglas gives you a slap on the back.

"GCPD still makes em tough after all." He tells you, his voice echoing down the dank smooth stone curves.

"I like to think so." You reply, struggling to keep your voice steady.

"Alright!" He hollers. "Three of you will be coming with me while we walk to the eastern cistern. The other three will be in the possession of the GCPD with Detective DeLucia here."

The men almost race to end up with Douglas, if you were a more sensitive guy you'd probably be offended, the slowest or least caring of the group end up in your care. That includes Pete.

"Alright, Detective if you keep your radio local I'll send you pings. One Ping means to meet back here, Two Pings mean I have an issue on my end, and Three Pings mean my half of this is done and I'm going top-side." Douglas hollers from down the tunnel.
>>
"Copy, I'll see you on the top then." You call back, without further words you watch as they slowly fade into the darkness of the sewer system.

"How far to the Western Cistern, Pete?"

"About an hour, same time walking back."

"So two hours wasn't just lip service, Grey really did his research on this stuff." You say to yourself, dimming the headlamp so you don't reflect all the light off the paper into your eyes. It'll be mainly a straight line for the first half, nothing to do but get to it.

"Let's head out."

=====Twenty Minutes Later...=====

"Pete, mark this gap here." You say as you take a small hop over the gap in a four way intersection of burbling gray water.

There hadn't been much to note for the walk, Grey and Hawthorne bicker but the two of them are near immaculate in their work, now is when thing's begin to get interesting.

"Lamps up and eyes sharp from this point especially." You tell the men over your shoulder as you study the maps. "We're entering the parts of the sewer that got revamped by the City a couple years ago."

"Mayor Dent is one of our top customers, City Hall has all sorts of plans in the works." Pete comments idly as he hops the gap, this entire walk he hadn't strayed more than six feet from you.

"His campaign promises buy my little girl's birthday gifts, so I ain't complaining." A slightly accented voice jokes, it belongs to a moustachio'd man by the name of Diego.

"Well re-election time is coming next year, so hopefully whoever's in the Mayor's office by then is interested in finishing up all his plans." You say, marking down the location of a beam of light shining through a manhole. You're on the right path.

"You don't think he's getting re-elected?" Pete asks you.

"I keep an open mind and a closed mouth when it comes to politics. Especially in Gotham." You reply.

"Only way to do it." Diego chimes in.

You smirk, but it isn't long before the smirk falls away into a puzzled expression. Ahead of you in the dark you think you spot something, a small black box a little larger than a deck of cards.

"Officer, Sir?" Pete asks, his hand tapping your shoulder.

"Not now.." you mumble, trying to get a better look.

"Sir...I think something is in the water.." Pete says, his hand now urgently tapping your shoulder. You give it a quick glance and see nothing.

"Pete, he's doing something." Diego sighs. "Just give the man a second."

"I fucking saw something, D. It was right in the water, I swear."

You sigh and crouch, the small box gives you the tiniest glint of reflective light. Then you hear it, the plop of something entering water.

"There! There it is!" Pete yells.

"It's a log of shit, you fucking idiota." Diego sighs as he steps past you. "Stop dragging this out."
>>
You stand up straight, you feel a shiver run over your body, you feel exposed. Somewhere above a man sits in a cramped office, his shoes kicked off in a corner and a tall plastic cup of soda sitting on a desk. Behind him a series of dulled lights on a switchboard except for one which blinks yellow and red.

You blink again and re-enter the sewers, Pete yanking on your shirt and Diego stepping past you with a few other men.

"I really want to go back up now." Pete says quietly.

"Fucking go then." Diego replies. "You're a man now, Petey. Stop being such a Coño."

"Officer, PLEASE." Pete says again giving you a final yank.

>"Diego is right, Pete. I need you to get a hold of yourself. Diego I need you to stop moving, something is up ahead of us and I'm not sure what it is."
>"Diego, the rest of you, stop moving. Back up. If Pete saw something then I'm checking it out."
>"Pete, maybe it would be best if you did go back up. You can head back and I won't even mention it to Douglas. You can still get paid."
>"Pete, there are no crocodiles or super-villains in the sewers. If you keep pulling on my shirt then you'll be paying the GCPD for the replacement, stop worrying about the water and fall in line."
>"Enough! Everyone shut the hell up and get behind me. Now."
>Write-In
>>
>>5940073
>"Diego, the rest of you, stop moving. Back up. If Pete saw something then I'm checking it out."
>>
>>5940073
>>"Diego, the rest of you, stop moving. Back up. If Pete saw something then I'm checking it out."
>>
>>5940073
Luckily for Pete, we never leave home without our recreational stick of dynamite.
>"Diego, the rest of you, stop moving. Back up. If Pete saw something then I'm checking it out."
If we DON'T look then he's going to hoot and holler the whole way back. It's probably nothing.
>>
>>5940094
+1
Cop putting his life on the line for civvies. Is this really Gotham?
>>
>>5940098
>Cop putting his life on the line for civvies. Is this really Gotham?
It happens, once every few decades or so.
>>
>>5940073
>"Diego, the rest of you, stop moving. Back up. If Pete saw something then I'm checking it out."

Pete is going to be mocked relentlessly if this turns out to be someone’s fudge log.
>>
>"Diego, the rest of you, stop moving. Back up. If Pete saw something then I'm checking it out."

With the addendum.

>"And someone keep an eye on whatever this is as you do." Pointing to the Black Box. "They may be related, may not. I just want to know if anything changes with this as I check out whatever Pete saw."
>>
>Somewhere above a man sits in a cramped office, his shoes kicked off in a corner and a tall plastic cup of soda sitting on a desk. Behind him a series of dulled lights on a switchboard except for one which blinks yellow and red.
Well, this vision can be interpreted two ways
1) The man in an office is a mafia goon who's watcing the cameras/alarms that are placed around here and we're already tripped one. No Idea what it is plopping around in the water then.
2)The man in the office is some sort of maintenance worker who's monitoring valves or water pressure or something like that. And something is about to break/flood, hence the red blinking alarm light.

Any other ideas?
>>
>>5942600
Clearly it's just Leonard. And Richie is just fucking with him by manually flipping a breaker to make the warning system get mad.
>>
>>5940073
>"Diego, the rest of you, stop moving. Back up. If Pete saw something then I'm checking it out."
>>
>>5940074
>>5940079
>>5940094
>>5940098
>>5940341
>>5941004
>>5942615

Welcome back from the weekend, writing now.
>>
You pull your long maglight from your belt and let the cool metal slide under your fingers until you feel the familiar rubber button.

"Diego, the rest of you, stop moving." You click on the bright beam of your flashlight and shine it at a space a few paces back. "Back up. If Pete saw something then I'm checking it out."

"Aww, Officer. He jumps at his own shadow this ain't nothing new." Diego groans.

You shake your head and gesture again with the light.
"If I don't look he's gonna keep bringing it up, I know it's probably nothing but it'll take a couple seconds to check it out, if you wanna help keep your eyes forward. I saw something on the ground up ahead."

"Probably a moisture sensor." Pete whispers.

"Now he ain't scared." Diego sighs again, folding his arms.

You ignore him and turn the light to the water, occasionally you hear a distorted blorping noise, like someone shaking around a jug of water, you feel Pete's presence looming over your shoulder as he's scanning the water with you. A small nudge of your elbow backs him off you, the beam of the flashlight travels until suddenly reflection strikes you.

"A bottle?" Pete says.

"A fuckin bottle." Diego says clapping Pete on the back. "Good work kid, if someone fell into the water that bottle could smack em upside the head."

You groan and get down to your belly, the cold damp stone infests the fibers of your cotton shirt, your flashlight is far enough out to halt the bottle's floating by and you eventually manage to wrangle it close. Diego gets intrigued by your actions and is now hovering around as you click off the flashlight and crank up your headlamp.

"That's a nice looking bottle." He says.

You turn it around in your hands, trying not to think about what this thin coating all over it is, the label comes into view generally undisturbed besides some peeling at the edges.
"This is a nice bottle of champagne. What the hell is it doing in the sewers? Do kids come down here to drink?"

"I mean sometimes, sure. But they ain't drinking Dom P or anything like that, mostly cans of cheapo beer." Diego says rubbing his chin. "If it was flowing down this way though it had to be dropped in before the cistern otherwise it'd have probably gotten busted up."
>>
You frown and fish a tall plastic bag from your belt, with some maneuvering you manage to seal it up and hand it off to Pete. He quietly tucks it under his arm and nods, he looks ahead and down at the black box you brought up earlier.
"That's definitely a moisture sensor, I'm not sure why it isn't labeled on the map but we can do that now. It mean's we're getting close to the cistern and reservoir."

You step past it cautiously and watch as nothing obvious happens.
"It's mainly to see if there's a flow surge, the tunnels sometimes get.."

You hear it over Pete's nervous chatter. The screeching sound of metal moving, you press your clipboard against his mouth to stop him since rubbing a sludge covered hand on his lips would probably only result in more noise. You throw up a hand and gesture for everyone to stay quiet.

The clank sounds and a few moments later you hear it again, then it's followed by voices.

"..this way..up and you'll be...." It's finer point hidden under the sounds of water and the various drips and drops of the tunnel.

Another voice rings out, this one loud and slurred.
"It fucking REEKS down here, my assistant set this up so just get me out of here. I'm fucked up."

"...voice down...occasionally check the...follow me."

You look back at the crew behind you and they stare with the same dumbfounded look as you.
"We cleared this whole day out with city hall, no other contractors should be down here." Pete whispers to you.

"Could be some of those kids we were talking about." Diego mumbles.

"Kids with assistants?" Pete chides back.

"Fuck you, I'm surprised you didn't run already." Diego hisses.

You give both of them your best Hawthorne stare and slowly pull your fingers past your lips. They both give each other a glance and look down. Pete speaks back up.
"What's your plan? We could radio for Doug and his guys."

"He answers back and that radio is gonna be loud as a car horn." Diego says shaking his head. "We should turn around and head back."

"Now who wants to run.." Pete whispers.

Diego goes to respond but a hand held up by you holds him.

>Radio to Douglas and tell him what's going on. The more people over here the better."
>"I'm going ahead to check this out, all of you need to stay right here. I'll leave the radio, if I'm not back in ten minutes call Douglas."
>"We're going to keep going ahead, but slowly and quietly. Stay low and watch your step."
>"Nobody move or speak until I say. We sit and we listen."
>"We're heading back, unknowns in the sewers mean we're done. Mark this spot, uniforms will come back to check it out."
>Write-In
>>
>>5942847
>>"I'm going ahead to check this out, all of you need to stay right here. I'll leave the radio, if I'm not back in ten minutes call Douglas."
>>
>>5942847
>"We're heading back, unknowns in the sewers mean we're done. Mark this spot, uniforms will come back to check it out."
We don't want to tips the crooks off before the sting.
>>
>>5942847
>"I'm going ahead to check this out, all of you need to stay right here. I'll leave the radio, if I'm not back in ten minutes call Douglas."
>>
>>5942847
>>"We're heading back, unknowns in the sewers mean we're done. Mark this spot, uniforms will come back to check it out."
>>
>>5942847
I'll tiebreak
>"We're heading back, unknowns in the sewers mean we're done. Mark this spot, uniforms will come back to check it out."
>>
>>5942847
>"We're heading back, unknowns in the sewers mean we're done. Mark this spot, uniforms will come back to check it out."

Let’s not get busted now.
>>
>>5942847
>"I'm going ahead to check this out, all of you need to stay right here. I'll leave the radio, if I'm not back in ten minutes call Douglas."
>>
>"We're heading back, unknowns in the sewers mean we're done. Mark this spot, uniforms will come back to check it out."

Eyes on the prize. We're prepping for a major sting operation, not doing this solo. We may not have 100% of the information, but we got 90% and that is more than good enough. Especially as that bottle and those people likely indicate we made it close to the site and there's very little space it could be thanks to what was mentionedabout the Cistern. If they get a hint that we were here, that'll blow the operation, or at least cause them to trap this pathway.
>>
>>5942847
>>"We're heading back, unknowns in the sewers mean we're done. Mark this spot, uniforms will come back to check it out."
I mean, we got confirmation that the backdoor is around here, so mission complete?
>>
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Portrait
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>>5943453
After staring at it for a bit, I found another thing that needs fixing but I have no strength left to do another delete>fix>repost round. It's over.
>>
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>>5943453
Ayo pull up everybody, new fanart just dropped. Hell yeah.
>>
>>5943464
I wouldn't sweat it. Just post the finished version later, or next thread.
>>
>>5943453
>>5943464

Thank you, Anon! It's great, if you want to do revisions or anything please feel free to share them here, but don't do it on my behalf. The piece you posted is more than great as far as I'm concerned.
>>
>>5942871
>>5943035
>>5943096
>>5943156
>>5943293
>>5943299

"We're heading back, unknowns down here with us mean we're done."

You hand the clipboard to Diego and tap the edge.
"Mark this spot, uniforms will come back to check it. We don't have it all but we have enough."

Diego nods, moving his pen silently to cross an X on the map, he goes to hand the board back but you shake your head letting your hand slide down to your holster and pop the strap holding your service pistol. You draw it to your chest and nod to the group back the way you came.

"Lamps low." You whisper, the command is chained up the line of men and you watch the column of light dim down to a faint glow. You tap Diego twice and point, he takes no more convincing and sets off with the others in tow, you follow behind continually checking over your shoulder while staying between the crew and anyone approaching from behind. The walk feels much longer when you're spending every second scanning shadows for anything human shaped but eventually you reach the ladder back up.

"Everyone up."

"What about you?" Pete asks.

"I'm staying behind and radio'ing Douglas to come back. I'll be the last up just in case they run into anyone."

One man starts climbing without any hesitation.
"A cop putting his life on the line for guys like us, is this still Gotham?"

"It happens." Diego says giving you a respectful nod. "Once every few decades or so."

You watch the men head up the ladder and grab your radio and click the receiver only to hear a static crackle from much further down the tunnel. You tense up before clicking it again, another burst of static but ever so closer and with no response. Is this Douglas or could his radio have been picked up by more men following whoever it was you heard?

>"Douglas? I have my weapon drawn, so identify yourself."
>Stay silent and your gun steady, don't ruin the element of surprise.
>Head up the ladder, this is getting to you.
>Fire a warning shot into the water.
>Write-In
>>
>>5943688
>>Stay silent and your gun steady, don't ruin the element of surprise.
>>
>>5943688
>Stay silent and your gun steady, don't ruin the element of surprise.
>>
>>5943688
>>Stay silent and your gun steady, don't ruin the element of surprise.
>>
>>5943688
>Stay silent and your gun steady, don't ruin the element of surprise.
We're a quickdraw, which means we don't need to draw 'til we really need it.
>>
>>5943688
>>Stay silent and your gun steady, don't ruin the element of surprise.
>>
>>5943688
>Stay silent and your gun steady, don't ruin the element of surprise.
>>
>>5943693
>>5943698
>>5943701
>>5943702
>>5943718
>>5943726

You stay silent and step back while turning your head lamp off, you have the jump on whoever this is if you need it, you breathe slowly and keep your pistol close to the chest to keep your form small. Hawthorne's words ring in your head.

"Finger off the trigger."

You exhale and slide your finger off the trigger-guard, you can draw down quickly if you need too, there's no need to risk it. The sounds get slowly closer, an ambient crackling from the radio and a low mumbling is all that you hear without your own radio being activated, you tense and strain your eyes to see through the dark. A final sigh escapes your lips as small bouncing headlamps round a distant corner, you step out flashing your own light on and off as you jog towards them.

"Detective!" Douglas calls out before you quickly shush him. He looks you up and down and whispers. "Why are you covered in shit?"

"I found a champagne bottle floating in the water."

"And you picked it up?"

"It hadn't been there long, the label hadn't washed off yet, it looked like it was washed down from further up. Where we heard voices."

"Voices?"

You shake your head.
"Up top, I need to make sure you guys get out so I can call it in."

He nods and gives a big wave with his arm to his men. You notice in his free hand he holds the radio which drips with slightly thick grey water. At least you weren't the only one fishing in sewage. The crew is up in no time and you follow close behind, though you never do hear anymore of those voices.

You hop on the radio and put out a call for Grey and a couple unmarked, dispatch passes the word along and has you hold as Grey writes up new orders for you: 'Keep all the crew on scene and hold down the scene until he arrives.' You peel off the extra gear and your filthy blue shirt grabbing your GCPD sweatshirt and clasping your badge to the front of that, Grey might bring it up but it's better than being soaked in shit water. You sigh and sit down on a stack of cinderblocks watching the crew de-boot and talk amoung themselves about what went on in the tunnels.
>>
Douglas spots you sitting off alone and heads over as you inspect the bottle in the evidence bag you had found.

"That your bottle?"

"Mhmm. It came from the Western Cistern, so maybe a street or two over."

He leans in and squints at the bottle.
"Yeah if it were a malt bottle I'd reckon it was one of the other construction crews tossing shit in the sewer."

"Your crews don't work over there?"

"Nope." He says, lifting a steaming foam cup and sipping from it. "Those are private jobs, not city contracts. They get better pay than us but not enough to afford a 900 dollar bottle of champagne."

"You can tell it's that much just from looking at it?" You ask with lifted brows.

"Mayor Dent is very persuasive when it comes to my approving new safety codes." He says with a nudge.

One lifted brow shifts down as you give him a long stare, he breaks and chuckles.
"I was barback for a couple years before this gig, ease up Detective."

"Easy to say, but I got a lot more questions than answers out of this."

"Me and the guys too, I know you told us not to leave and I get that. But what the hell could have been down there? Pete told me you pulled your gun?"

"A precaution, just to be safe."

"Safe from what?" He leans in speaking low, the sewage scent is cut by the sharp richness of black coffee. "I understand if you don't want to freak these fellas out, but I have annual maintenance on these sewers with a rotating crew here in a week. I'm responsible for their safety, so man to man. What do you think you heard? Can I take my guys down there?"

>"Probably just some drunks, maybe another one slipped through the storm drains, I didn't want to risk anyone messing with your crew."
>"Man to man this is a sensitive police matter, Douglas. If I could tell you more I would but there are bigger things than you and me going on."
>"We've been looking into organized crime in the area, we think they may be using the sewer system for whatever it is they get up to, I can't risk a confrontation when I have civilians."
>Tell him the whole truth, including the Sting.
>Write-In
>>
>>5943761
>>Write-In
"If its in a week, it should be fine but it might be good to find something thats abit more urgent just to be safe."
>>
>>5943761
>"We've been looking into organized crime in the area, we think they may be using the sewer system for whatever it is they get up to, I can't risk a confrontation when I have civilians."
>>
>>5943764
supporting
>>
>>5943764
+1
>>
>>5943486
>>5943551
>>5943640
Thanks

>>5943761
+1 to >>5943764
Mafia bigwigs better not postpone the meeting. Would be awkward.
>>
>>5943764
+1
Can’t tip our hand, we don’t know if Douglas is in with the mobsters.
>>
>>5943764
Should we add a "I'm not certain what I heard, just that someone who wasn't part of either of the crews was there." to the front of it? It answers his question, implies we drew our weapon to defend the crew we were leading, and implies we're gonna be looking into it but don't know exactly how long it would take and could run longer. Even if he's on the take, we've firmly cast this as a longer term thing and unrelated to the meetup, so word won't be relevant to get out.
>>
>>5943761
>"Man to man this is a sensitive police matter, Douglas. If I could tell you more I would but there are bigger things than you and me going on."
+
>"If its in a week, it should be fine but it might be good to find something that's a bit more urgent just to be safe."
and maybe reassure him it's not any meta nonsense like Killer Croc or Solomon Grundy.
>>
>>5944256
I don't think hiding it under sensitive police matter would work too well, considering the cover story we gave earlier. Saying that now would make it seem like we were expecting something big down there but had led them to believe there was nothing down there. Does not seem like it would give us much favor.
>>
>>5944271
Maybe we can frame it as sensitive, but not DANGEROUS, because we expected it to be empty. That is, after all, the truth of it.
>>
>>5943764
>>5943782
>>5943832
>>5943838
>>5943910
Locked for next update.

Hey all, I have been entered into a writing competition so I'm going to take tonight to work on my entry and get it submitted so I can go back to focusing on the quest.

We are rapidly approaching the Sting and Banks' award ceremony. Your day tomorrow will be free, so before I post the next scene tell me:

>What do you want DeLucia to do with his day off before the Sting?
Take this time to explore new angles or see old friends if you wish
>>
>>5944490
>What do you want DeLucia to do with his day off before the Sting?
Where's that cutie firefighter EMT at?

Good luck in the contest, QM! I'm sure you'll knock it out of the park.
>>
>>5944490
I say we spend the day meditating, see what Gotham has to tell us.
>>
>>5944490
lets talk to our parents
>>
>>5944490
Any chance we could visit Willowwood Home for Children? I imagine that Mark, given his issues as a child (and WHEN he would have been a child, IE before it shut down) either had a brief stint there or was ALMOST sent there at one point.
>>
>>5944509
Thank you, anon. It is a short story contest (under 1k words) so I decided to adapt/re-write the scene of Mark mainlining Shivers from Thread #2 into a stand alone thing. We will see how it goes.
(if for any reason you wanna re-read that scene you can just use the archive and CTRL+F 'ladybug' to jump right to it.)

>>5944617
I hadn't really given much thought to WillowWood but yes, you're absolutely correct in saying it's very likely Mark was almost sent there though.
>>
>>5944490

"If it's in a week Douglas it should be fine, but maybe it would be a good idea to focus on some more urgent tasks for City Hall before you head back into the sewers. Just to be safe."

He gives you a concerned look but doesn't press the issue any further, instead he leans against a small pile of blocks next to you and sips from his cup silently. You jot down what little info you got from him about the bottle. A bottle in the sewers coming from the direction of the club, a few people already in the club, and it starts piecing together for you.

"Can I ask you something?" Douglas says, breaking you free from your thoughts.

"Sure."

"You like being a cop?"

"Absolutely." You answer without hesitation.

He scoffs and shakes his head.
"So I guess there's no point in asking you if you ever had doubts."

"I had plenty." You admit. "A lot of the time I doubted myself, the physical stuff was fine but a lot of the psychological and social parts of the job made me nervous."

"Why? You seem a good enough type, took to leading a handful of men pretty quick."

You shrug.
"Can't take all the credit, I have a solid teacher and already work on a team at the department. I guess the thing I was worried about was more so my..uh.." You trail off, realizing you didn't know if Douglas even knew about your Shivers. "I have special circumstances, I worried it would make the job impossible for me."

He grunts and nods.
"You're disabled then?"

"Differently-abled is more accurate." You say with a chuckle.

"That is what they're saying now, isn't it? Whatever the case, you seem a fine enough cop to me."

"I appreciate that."

"Except for one thing, you lied to them before we went down. We both know that nobody slipped through sewer grates and gave you the slip."

You remain silent and keep a neutral face, just maintaining eye contact. Douglas does the same until he breaks away and drains his cup. The crunching of gravel draws your attention as you see a dark green Sedan arrive, in the driver's seat is Grey. You go to stand up when Douglas holds out a hand.

"I wanted to know since you were with him, he's a new addition to my crew and he works hard but it's clear he isn't exactly fitting in. Pete's been with us for three months or so, I just figured an outside perspective would help me figure out how I can help him out."

>"Sorry, Douglas. Maybe you should talk to Pete about what he could use the help with. I need to talk to the Detective."
>"He's scared of his own shadow, hyper cautious, maybe he'd be better as an inspector than general crew? If you had strings to pull for that shot."
>"The kid has potential, just let him work out the kinks on his own time. If he can't pick himself up then that's just how it is."
>"Honestly you should probably fire him, I could barely concentrate with him pulling on me and yappin in my ear. Imagining that while I have power tools in my hand is a nightmare."
>Write-In
>>
>>5945308
>>"The kid has potential, just let him work out the kinks on his own time. If he can't pick himself up then that's just how it is."
>>Write-In
"But help him out if you think he need it."
>>
>>5945308
>Write-In
>"He has potential, is hyper-cautious and a bit paranoid, but he has a good eye for noticing things. From what I saw his talents are more to those of an inspector than general crew, but could probably work something out with enough guidance either way."
I don't want to insinuate he should pull strings or something like that.
>>
>>5945328
+1, play to strengths
>>
>>5944665
>ladybug meditation
Good choice. it was very poetic and touching on its own, even without much outside context.

>>5945308
What >>5945328 said. Supporting.
>>
>>5945328
>>5945332
>>5945345

"He has potential, hyper-cautious and a little paranoid, but he has a good eye. He notices small things, that's more of an inspector's talent than general crew."

Douglas rubs his chin and nods.
"It's a little more admin than this."

You shrug.
"He seems the type who can work something out as long as he has the guidance."

"You might be right about that."

"Appreciate the help today, Douglas. But I really need to get going."

He nods and gives you a firm handshake before turning and heading off towards Pete. You watch him for a few seconds, hoping things work out for him, the crunch of gravel alerts you to Grey's approach.

"DeLucia, fill me in on everything."

You eye the tall metal cannisters on a fold out table nearby.
"Let me get a coffee.." You groan, lifting yourself from your seat.

=======

"So according to the maps you were about here." Grey says circling an area on the street that is down the road from the club. "You said the supervisor mentioned a private construction crew?"

"Yes, sir. Apparently the buildings over there aren't city contracts, you have any way of knowing who's running the show for that site?"

He nods and pulls a small black flip phone from his pocket, he hits a single button and lifts it to his ear.
"Yeah, Kimble? You in position? Good. Tell me what you see."

You watch as Grey's gaze goes unfocused, staring at a nearby traffic cone but seeing something far away. This is probably just a taste of what others see you get up to. A few nods and a couple of uh-huhs later he hangs up the phone.

"Crew looks normal enough to Kimble, the signs say KL Industries. Stands for Kal Late apparently."

"Never heard of him."

"Me neither, probably isn't a Gotham local then. Which makes buying real estate here even stranger, I love this city but it isn't exactly a hot market, add that to the fact that if your scouting ended here and we just move the pen up roughly the distance you guessed. Where does that leave us?"

"Damn close to that construction site."

Grey's furrows his brow, his eyes intensely scanning the page.
"Exactly right. I didn't expect this to lead to anything new, good work Officer. Really."

"What's the plan now?"

"Going to ask for some business records, criminal checks, and try to nail down who Kal Late is before Friday."

"What's the plan for me?"

"Mission accomplished DeLucia, you're free to take the rest of the day."
>>
You frown and Grey gives you a sympathetic smile.
"Sorry, Rookie. Everyone wishes they could work all the time when they start off, but you'll learn to pace yourself eventually."

"Understood, sir." You reply, your shoulders slumping.

He looks at you with a sideways expression before sighing.
"You got a mopey face, kid. Anyone ever tell you that?"

"Sorry, sir?"

He laughs and sighs.
"You wanna come to City Hall with me?"

>"And see Dent? No thank you, sir. I'll take the day." (Jump to your day off)
>"I'm in, let's go learn about Kal Late." (Hang out with Grey)
>Write-In? (Open to you doing something else with your afternoon)
>>
>>5946178
>"I'm in, let's go learn about Kal Late." (Hang out with Grey)
>"I gotta learn how to shuffle files sometime, right?"
>>
>>5946180
supporting
>>
>>5946180
+1

>>5946178
>>
>>5946180
+1 let's get paper trailing
>>
>>5946178
>>"I'm in, let's go learn about Kal Late." (Hang out with Grey)
>>
File: GothamCityHall.jpg (32 KB, 564x423)
32 KB
32 KB JPG
>>5946180
>>5946184
>>5946206
>>5946207
>>5946244

"I'm in, let's go learn about Kal Late." You say quickly.

Grey raises his eyebrows.
"First time I've heard someone get excited to dig through paperwork."

"Gotta learn to shuffle files sometime. right?"

"I guess that's true." He tells you as he shakes his head and muttering to himself. "Fucking Hawthorne."

"Excuse me, sir?"

"Nothing. Let's get to city hall, you still got that button up shirt?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then get changed cause, no offense, you don't smell the best."

"I know." You tell him coyly as you slip out of the site and into some fresh clothes.

=====

City Hall, you'd been of course since your graduation from the Academy was hosted here, but the last time you visited you spent most of your time being ferried through service entrances and back doors. Entering the front doors is a whole new experience, towering white stone statues flank a massive sign and old royal oak doors.

"Wow." You let out without meaning too.

"Mhmm, I'm sure I don't need to tell you but City Hall is one of the oldest buildings around Gotham, Mayor's have been saying for years they plan on renovating the place and making it a little less 'art-deco' but they always end up not going through with it."

"Probably have bigger stuff to worry about, looking after the city."

Grey scoffs.
"Probably just like living in a fancy building that makes you seem above the riff-raff. Politican's love their status symbols."

You sit on that thought for a moment as you open the door and let Grey step in. The lobby is no less impressive than the entrance, mottled marble floors with a massive bronze circle bearing the seal of Gotham City, you try to avoid spending too much time looking around like this is a field trip and instead keep your focus on Grey as he speaks with a receptionist. He pulls his badge and after a few moments pass she hands him two plastic key-cards. Grey passes a card to you and start's heading off.

"That's it? We don't need the treasurer or anyone to sign off on this?"

"Deb knows I'm good for it, you forget Hawthorne and I have been in and out of this place constantly the past few days, the treasurer gave the Commissioner the all clear and he passed it to Reiner who passed it to me. Doesn't hurt I've been at it for going on 23 years at this point." Grey leads as he speaks, leading you to your first keycard locked door and heading through, you both take a set of stairs that lead into a sub-level with nostalgic warm yellow lighting.

"Twenty-Three years and you're what age now?"

He gives you a raised eyebrow but answers.
"Twenty-Two and still feeling like it."

"You joined young."

"About as young as you are, left community college in my early twenties looking to make a difference. Now I'm looking to get a nice pension and a couple years of a relaxing hobby that involves as little reading as possible." As he finishes he stops in front of a much less impressive looking steel door.
>>
The Plaque next to the door reads:
Business Records & Tax Code.

The door clicks and he leans forward as you ask.
"Why a hobby with no reading?"

He swings the door open for you revealing a room that looks very similar to your station's own records room if it wasn't for the fact this was nearly double the size.

"Jesus Christ." You mutter.

"You're telling me." Grey mutters before stepping inside.

"Why are these rooms always filled with paper, wouldn't it be easier to just keep it on a computer somewhere?"

"Master copies are kept in a safe place with a floppy disk that has all the same copies but digital. They transcribe the physical masters and update the disk once a month on a computer that has no internet connection. It's a real pain in the ass."

"How is that easier than just keeping it on a secure SSD or something?"

"Maybe if we were still dealing mainly with guys like Falcone, but this day and age? With the kinda guys we have running around? Better to take every precaution. Trust me, staff here doesn't like it either."

"How do you know all this?"

"Deb was the scribe for one of the months, they do random rotations, we talk sometimes." He says as he pulls off his coat and cracks his knuckles before letting out a long sigh. "Well, ready to get cracking? There's a table in the middle, get comfy and I'll just pull out the whole K-L drawers and bring em over."

"Sounds good, maybe we can knock it out quicker than you thought." You say optimistically.

=====

Nearly two hours later you set down another file of estate transfers and City Code inspections.

"Another one for a business that never went up." You say tossing the file.

"Christ alive, this guy can't make up his fucking mind. He's been buying small properties all over Gotham's out-skirts for months and then flipping them or abandoning them at random."

"Is it really random? I've been keeping count and it's at: Four fast food chains, three bars, three auto shops, and a laptop repair store."

"Sounds pretty fucking random to me. If these places all burned down or something it would at least make sense to me, the way it stands now he keeps buying things that are nearly out of business and then just selling the land or dumping the property when the business fails. None of them had any profit change that could indicate he's using them to wash his dirty bills and none of them are construction projects like what he has going on by the club."

"None of them yet, we still have a good amount of paper to go through. We are on February." You sigh, grabbing another file and opening it up.
>>
"What month is it again?"

"October." You reply flatly.

A low groan is all you get as a response.

"Thinking about throwing in the towel?"

"No. There's something, there always is, we just need to dig until we find it." You watch as he pulls a slim silver pack from his pocket and pops a nicotine gum in, he chews with frustration. Maybe some light conversation could ease his stress a little?

>"So what was it like, 20 years ago, when you and Hawthorne were beat cops?"
>"So that Deb lady at the front desk, you two just friends?"
>"You off the cigarettes too huh? Hawthorne ate enough seeds to plant a field the other day."
>Focus on the files, you don't want to distract him.
>Write-In
>>
>>5946363
>>"You off the cigarettes too huh? Hawthorne ate enough seeds to plant a field the other day."
>"Maybe the flagging businesses is a different kind of cover? Some sort of backwards tax write-off for charity loophole? Maybe they're burying stuff in the floorboards? They're actually parts of a summoning circle? Five bucks on the floorboards."
>>
>>5946366
+1
>>
>>5946366
+1
>>
>>5946363
>>"So what was it like, 20 years ago, when you and Hawthorne were beat cops?"
>>
>>5946363
>>Focus on the files, you don't want to distract him.
Why would you buy the place, then sell it couple months later? He sells the land, so floorboards theory probably doesn't hold, since the new owner would find everything when renovating/bulldozing the place.

>Check how the locations of bought land line up with the sewer map.
Only idea I have is some sort of vast network of tunnels deep in the sewers since new owners probably won't care about the underground part too much.

>>5946351
>Mayor's have been saying for years they plan on renovating the place and making it a little less 'art-deco' but they always end up not going through with it
Lmao, but also thank god they never go through with it. Honestly, would expect art-deco from metropolis, not gotham, but I suppose no place is truly homogeneous architecture-wise.
>>
>>5946366
+1
>>
>>5946366
+1

>>5946559
>He sells the land, so floorboards theory probably doesn't hold, since the new owner would find everything when renovating/bulldozing the place.
Maybe it's soemthign to do with access to the sewer tunnels? maybe he's looking for something buried below an old, forgotten mob front?

>Honestly, would expect art-deco from metropolis, not gotham
It's a TAS reference, I imagine. It was very 'dark deco'.
>>
>>5946363
>>"You off the cigarettes too huh? Hawthorne ate enough seeds to plant a field the other day."
>>
My theory is that this Kal guy might not exists, but is a identity used by maybe one of the mafiosos to buy property, use it as HQ or some operation, and when they end they just sell it. Maybe that's why it looks like a mess, and the only way to verify this might be looking for some cases around those properties that ended in no leads. There might be something, like a blank spot where Kal's businesses fill the gap.
>>
>>5948142
Then again, 'Callate' is a Spanish slang that means 'shut up', so yeah. Hush money?
>>
>>5948142
It's an alien. From Pluto. Gotta be.
>>
>>5948142
>>5948334
A part of me was fearing it was somehow tied to Darkseid, and his son Kalibak, but Kalibak's nowhere NEAR subtle enough for this kind of operation.
>>
File: 712461562163.gif (2.63 MB, 528x229)
2.63 MB
2.63 MB GIF
>>5948336
>tfw it isn't subtle at all, it's literally telling everyone that he is late and they're just trying to find the best place for a grand entrance
>>
>>5946366
>>5946389
>>5946408
>>5946574
>>5946578

You lean a heavy head on your hand and lazily turn some of the pages, letting your eyes flit over the information, and speak to Grey without looking up.

"You off the cigarettes too huh? Hawthorne are enough seeds to plant a field the other day."

"Huh?" He asks. You notice his head snaps to you in your peripheral vision.

"You saw him eating seeds right?"

"Yeah but I didn't know he was quitting cigarettes too." He shakes his head. "Bastard." He mumbles despite the small smile on his face.

"Weird coincidence then."

"Tip for a potential Detective some day, kid. Never accept coincidence as an answer until all other possibilities are worn out."

You finish your file and close it, this one even thinner than the last, Grey does the same and you both take a moment to lean back and rest your eyes.

"Alright then. What other reasons would there be? You ask him to stop a while back and now he decided to do it when you did?"

"Doubtful." He replies, a strange expression on his face.

"Well then you led by example, maybe choosing to quit made him rethink his habit too."

Grey shakes his head as he grabs two fresh files and slides one to you.
"Mitch wouldn't listen to me if he was on fire and I told him to hop in a lake." He says chuckling. "No, maybe he just feels guilty taking smoke breaks after I had to give em up."

You brow furrows, something about his choice of words makes the gears of your mind start turning, you give him a simple grunt of affirmation and decide to mull it over as you read, but what you see on the top of the file catches your full attention.

"Hey Grey?"

"Yup."

"The name on this one is different. Well not fully, it includes a middle name, Kal Quincy Late." Your eyes move down slightly as you go through. "Holy shit, the location too."

"Huh." He stands and circles around to your side of the table giving the file a long look.

"This file is from one of the more recent purchases, right before it turns into his construction projects, and it's the fucking museum. Where Anarky attacked." You tell him pointing to the address.

"Dig long enough.." Grey mutters to himself. "Looks like he bought the building out after a foreclosure, did some renovations and then just did nothing with it. He fixed the place up and flipped it back onto the market where Wayne Enterprises. Hold on.."

You watch as Grey digs out his cellphone and taps rapidly, occasionally his eyes flicker back to the file before returning to the phone, after a minute or two he slaps his knee.

"I fucking knew it. This building sat empty for almost a month and then the day Wayne announces his intentions to try and find a venue to host his museum it hits the market."

"I'd say it could be a coincidence but I'm doubting it. What about the flagging businesses then? Some different kind of cover? Tax write-offs? Maybe he was sticking shit in the floorboards, I'd put money on it."
>>
"I'm thinking chaff, something to throw anyone looking into it off the scent by burying them in paper work."

"Wouldn't it be easier to use a shell company then?" You ask him.

Grey's shoulders slump a bit.
"Yeah...could be something worth looking into at these properties then. How fast Wayne bought that land up also concerns me, it wasn't on market for more than a month or so before an offer was put in according to this." He points to the ownership transfer date at the bottom of the sheet.

"Think he's worth looking into?"

"I don't know. But the bottom line is that we need to find out what this Kal Quincy Late is doing with all of this land. Including the construction sites."

He closes the file and tucks it under his arm before giving you a hearty pat on the back.
"You did good work today, Mark. I'm glad you didn't listen to me and take the afternoon off."

"Maybe my pace is just a little higher than most people."

"Maybe." He says grabbing his coat. "Does it got enough to make one more stop?"

"Where at?"

"I think that should be your call. We can head to one spot and send Kimble and Hawthorne to another."

"Isn't Hawthorne benched?"

"From actual action yes, but to do some light prodding? I'm sure the Commander could turn an eye from that. I hope."

"If you say so, let's check out..."

>"Kal Quincy Late's Address, he doesn't have a listed HQ for his company but he does have an office in Old Gotham."
>"Wayne, he and I have a rapport already, maybe he can illuminate us on how the Gotham uber-rich operate."
>"The old properties, at least the ones from the time between his sale of the museum and the start of the construction project.
>Write-In
>>
>>5948739
Kal Q. Late? Ah fuck, it's The Calculator. >>5948142 got it.

>>5948754
>"The old properties, at least the ones from the time between his sale of the museum and the start of the construction project.
What are you hiding, 'Calc'?
>>
>>5948764
+1
>>
>>5948764
He's buying properties to sabotage or trap them, then selling them back off. When a new party buys them, he waits a bit, then Anarky guys strike the places using the preinstalled vulnerabilities? That's why the museum had the gas hookup installed as well as ways to fuck with security. It was all in advance
>>
>>5948764
Man, for a guy with a plan he sure is a fuckin idiot if he made that kind of goof. Perfect kek. +1

>>5948754

>>5948781
Even makes sense. Maybe they more or less shoved the property in Bruce's face to give him the idea to buy it specifically to nab the richest man in Gotham because muh anarchocapitalisms or something. Dent being there lured in Firebug and shit all went sideways. Meanwhile Bruce was using it as a way to counter-ambush the Anarkists since he knew they'd be there gunning for him and had Drake there already to handle it. This is fivehead hours now.
>>
>>5948754
>>"The old properties, at least the ones from the time between his sale of the museum and the start of the construction project.
>>
>>5948793
>Man, for a guy with a plan he sure is a fuckin idiot if he made that kind of goo
Costumed villains just can't resist those gimmicky clues and shit, I guess. They're in it partly for the theatre.

>Drake
You mean Grayson?
>>
>>5948835
Putting on a mask just restricts blood flow to the brain. Can't be helped it seems.

I did indeed. I always get all the Robins mixed up. Except Todd. Poor Todd. Maybe the poor brainblood is mine.
>>
>>5948764
>>5948778
>>5948793
>>5948829

"The old properties, at least the ones from the time between the sale of the museum and the start of the construction projects."

"Then grab the copies behind you and bring em with. Let's head for the first one after his Museum sale."

You dig through your files and flip it open.
"Pagliacci Party Supplies. Sounds more like a Joker Goon hang-out. Address isn't too far from the museum either, he could have been keeping an eye on it."

"You think so?"

The gears turn and you nod.
"Maybe, maybe he bought the property to rig it? That central air system looked strange when I saw it, industrial level, way too big for a building of that size. The fire exit door I took locked behind me too after I went through it. Maybe he's in it with the Anarkists?"

"Heavy accusations to be throwing around right now, not saying I disagree with you, but it's important to keep an open mind when investigating. If you tunnel vision a perp too hard then you could miss the real one even if you brush shoulders."

"Yeah but something about this..." You trail off staring at the paper. Kal Quincy Late. His name. Something about his name.

"Mark, you wanna spend more time here? Or are we going?"

Kal Quincy...

Kal Q....

Kal Q Late...

"Oh son of a bitch." You mutter to yourself in frustration. "Close the door, Grey. Come here."

He sighs but acquiesces.
"What's up?"

"Kal Q. Late. Calculate."

His eyes glaze over as he stares at the name in bold black ink.
"I fucking hate it when these bozos do this sort of thing."

"You've run into this before?"

Grey gives you a very tired look.
"There's a career criminal named 'The Riddler' take a guess if I've had to play this stupid fucking game before."

"But why?"

"God complex." He states flatly. "Get away with using your stupid pseudonym once and you're lucky. Walk around using it for almost a year now and you start to feel untouchable. That's always where they mess up in the end."

"We should get to that party store and maybe take it easy, just in case."

"We see anything off and we'll call it in like normal." He heads for the door and opens it up, waving for you to head through, as you walk past him he gives you another of his analytical looks before saying simply. "You'll make a fine Detective if you can stomach all the paperwork."

"Well I'm learning from the best."

"The best paper-pusher in Gotham, I'm flattered."

The door clicks closed behind you both as you set off.
>>
The unmarked car pulls to a gentle stop in front of the desolate store-front. A tall sign stands at the corner of the building showing a vintage clown's face with a wide smile.

"I can see why this place went under." You say to yourself.

"Not a fan of clowns?"

"Not a fan of abandoned trapped stores."

"Keep your eyes peeled then, did you get in contact with Hawthorne?"

"Yes, sir. He said he'd take Kimble to talk to Wayne. Kinda surprised since he didn't seem the biggest fan of him."

"Well Hawthorne hasn't always been a fan of the 'yuppies' as he likes to call them. Grew up poor, him and I both." Grey cracks the door and steps out, letting that seeping autumn air into the car. You join him.

A few isolated pieces of trash blow about and Grey stands there staring the building down, his eyes darting seemingly in random directions, you take stock of the surroundings and note a complete lack of people. The cold is starting to force them out.

"Windows are covered with paper, door is probably gonna be locked. It was foreclosed by Gotham City Bank so it's technically city property. They've been thinking about demo'ing the lot anyways so I think if we have to get creative it won't be an issue."

"No warrant then?" You ask.

"No warrant."

He puts his hand on his sidearm and looks to you.
"How do you wanna approach this, I was thinking a back door entrance with the usual two man entry."

>"Back door is most likely to be boobytrapped isn't it? Let's take the front."
>"Back door is the plan, even they needed a way to get back in right?"
>"If we aren't worried about damage then maybe we could go a little unorthodox. My baton could open that window right up."
>Write-In
>>
>>5948959
Detect, what's our Shivers fatigue level at right now?
>>
>>5948961
Not bad at the moment. If you'd like to use Shivers please give me a D100 roll with a write in vote.
>>
>>5948966
(Best of 3, this time.)
>>
Rolled 17 (1d100)

>>5948966
Your ID change? Weird. Anyways...
>>5948959
>"Let me sweep around the exterior real quick and do my thing, see if either entrance has anything to say." (Shivers)
>>
>>5948970
Ah shit, yes it did. Sorry anon, I phone post and usually have my tag on, I must have forgotten.
>>
Rolled 45 (1d100)

>>5948970
+1
>>
Rolled 89 (1d100)

>>5948970
+1

>>5948966
Rolling
>>
>>5948959
This is a "riddler" esque guy

When it comes to masks, there's probably traps for obvious standard procedure
>>
>"Let me sweep around the exterior real quick and do my thing, see if either entrance has anything to say." (Shivers)
>>
>>5948959
>"Let me sweep around the exterior real quick and do my thing, see if either entrance has anything to say." (Shivers)
>>
Welp, let's check if my id is changed. If it's a new one again, there's no point in voting, hurray
>>
>>5949265
Not true anon, my ID changes constantly, if you want to use a trip-tag please feel free I don't mind. But I would always rather you vote than not vote at all. (You can always back-link as well)

>>5948961
>>5948970
>>5949020
>>5949022
>>5949177
>>5949263

Locked in for a Shivers Sweep.

ROLL: 89
DC: 45
RESULT: Success!

Writing.
>>
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Something about this building makes your skin crawl and it isn't the face of the clown gazing down on you from the sign. Although that wasn't helping.

"Let me sweep around the exterior real quick and do my thing, see if either entrance has anything to say."

Grey gives you a shallow nod returns to his observations with laser focus. You take a breath and let your eyes be closed for a few seconds until you start to feel the skin of your forearms start to raise in tiny bumps, slowly you walk towards the entrance with your hand outstretched for the handle when suddenly you feel it.

A cold breeze blows past you, flowing through the smallest of slits and crack in the door's frame, it grazes your skin like light freezing fingertips. It makes your stomach contract and your lungs ache like running a marathon in the dead of winter; you feel a radiating warmth just beyond the door coming up from your ankles to your calves and finally stopping just below your waist. You take a step back.

"Sense something?" Gray asks without looking at you as he inspects a parking spot on bended knee.

"Something for sure. Let me check the back."

He gives you a thumbs up as he pulls his phone from his back pocket with his free hand; you leave him to his own work and head around the side on the street. Access to the back alley from the street is blocked by a chain-link fence and gate, even from here you can see the bright silver padlock clasping it shut as you approach you notice that strangely enough it's only locked around the links of the fence itself, only slightly away from the proper placement, you wonder if this was done on purpose or if it was just a fortunate accident. You open the gate and step into the alley and shudder as the smell of freshly printed paper and still drying ink hits your nose, but only for a moment as when you lift your nose to the air again all you intake is stale garbage and exhaust fumes from the road behind you.

"What the hell was that?" You mumble to yourself.

'Necromancy, green idolatry, and greed.' You think to yourself.

You freeze in place. You thought that but you didn't. It's inexplainable but the thought that entered your head just then wasn't yours, you could just tell by how it appeared apropos of nothing at all, different than any normal intrusive thought this felt planted but not even in the same way as what you experienced with John Jones. Your palms sweat as you scan the alley.

"Hello?" You quietly ask.

The surging whoosh of a passing car is your only answer as the alley falls into deathly silence once more. No sign of anything. Your wandering eyes eventually fall on the rear entrance, plastered to the back is a an old yellowing poster showing the same face of the clown on the sign out front, you approach this door same as you did the last with your hand extended for the dented and dirty knob. Your hand wraps around the door knob and you find yourself staring into the clowns eyes.
>>
There's a joke here, but it isn't on you, you feel the urge to laugh but suppress it under your rising discomfort. You try the knob but find it unyielding, locked, you sigh and take a step back still gazing into the poster and wondering why you feel...resentment? You never had that much of a problem with clowns, just the usual amount for any Gothamite, but something about this one in particular bothers you and you decide to let go and follow your instincts. You slowly turn in place and back up until your head is aligned with the clown's and you look where he does.

A brick wall. You look at it for a minute or so before you begin to feel stupid, yet you're compelled to stay right where you are, you remember what Kimble told you outside of Maroni's and you let Shivers fall away for a moment. Your eyes slowly and methodically check every brick of the wall you stare at until you see something just barely remarkable. A lone brick surrounded by mortar that is just ever so slightly lighter colored than the surrounding area. The brick itself looks just as old as all the others, it's bright red now dulled away into a pinkish brown, you step forward and press two fingers into it firmly. It holds firm and it's surface is flush with the wall, even if you could remove it you could only push it inwards, you walk back out to the sidewalk and lean to get a glimpse at the building behind this place.

"T. Sale Art Supply."

You take out your notepad and jot the name down, you'll think on it more after you've seen what's inside this place. Heading back around the front you see Grey now standing looking down at his phone.

"Find anything?" You ask him.

He turns the screen around and shows you a picture of a faint black skid mark.
"Someone came in here fast, left behind a tire imprint, it isn't much but I'll take any physical evidence we can. Looks wide, thinking a truck or a van maybe, but in Gotham that's like knowing the length of the needle in the haystack. What about you?"

>"I think the front door is clear, it made me feel warm and that's generally a good thing, right?"
>"The back door, something went on in that alley way, door is locked but that's why we trained for breaching isn't it?"
>"Both doors gave me a bad feeling, we should bust out a window and climb in, I don't trust either door."
>Write-In

Secondary Vote:
>Bring up the strange voice(?) that came into your head in the alley. Y/N?
Feel free to include a write in if you want to explain it any certain way to him.
>>
>>5949538
>>"The back door, something went on in that alley way, door is locked but that's why we trained for breaching isn't it?"
>>
>>5949538
>>5949558
>>Bring up the strange voice(?) that came into your head in the alley. Y/N?
yes
>>
>>5949538
>"The back door, something went on in that alley way, door is locked but that's why we trained for breaching isn't it?"
>N
>>
>A cold breeze blows past you, flowing through the smallest of slits and crack in the door's frame, it grazes your skin like light freezing fingertips. It makes your stomach contract and your lungs ache like running a marathon in the dead of winter; you feel a radiating warmth just beyond the door coming up from your ankles to your calves and finally stopping just below your waist.
Makes me think of Mr. Freeze from the description of that cold.
>the smell of freshly printed paper and still drying ink hits your nose
But this can't be Freeze. He can't smell anything outside of his suit. Riddler, perhaps? He did recently escape.
>'Necromancy, green idolatry, and greed.' You think to yourself.
This one vexes me. I can provide no guesses except that it's a thought that must belong to a cerebral villain.
>you sigh and take a step back still gazing into the poster and wondering why you feel...resentment
Riddler and Freeze both hate and resent the Joker for their own reasons.
>The brick itself looks just as old as all the others, it's bright red now dulled away into a pinkish brown, you step forward and press two fingers into it firmly. It holds firm and it's surface is flush with the wall, even if you could remove it you could only push it inwards
This kind of design definitely fits the riddler more than most other villains. Hiding things in plain sight.
>T. Sale Art Supply
Tsas? Phonetically the same as Zsasz? Kind of a stretch, but I'm looking for every thread I can find.

Current guess:
Riddler. Possibly being pursued by Freeze for whatever reason. But probably not if there's no activity to be heard within the building.
Alternate: Mad Hatter? Tea Sale. I don't know. Joker is too obvious of an answer for the pagliacci face.
>>5949538
>If there's a gap enough for a breeze, there's a gap enough to slip something thin and reflective under the door. Ask Detective Grey if he has anything that can do the job. If not, just hit the back door.
>>
If I don't have a tie breaker on the secondary vote in an hour or so I'll just roll 1d2 for it to decide.

Also
>>5949656
Something to save your sanity a little: The T. Sale name itself doesn't have a ton of relevance to any mystery in the story, it's a nod is all. Really appreciate your analysis still, thanks!
>>
>>5949656
>>'Necromancy, green idolatry, and greed.' You think to yourself.
Sounds a lot like Ra's to me, honestly. Or Grundy.
>>
Rolled 2 (1d2)

1 For Yes

2 For No

Then Writing.
>>
You consider for a moment telling Grey about that strange moment you had in the alley, but it was fleeting and even if you did tell him about it all it would do is worry him, you decide to keep it to yourself for now.

"The back door, something went on in that alley, door is locked but that's why we train for breaching isn't it?"

He gives you a firm nod.
"Exactly right."

Suddenly an idea pops into your head.
"I did feel a breeze from the door, if there's gap enough for air to get through then if we have something thin and reflective maybe we can get an angle?"

"That's outside the box thinking certainly, but a little too MacGyver, the tactical teams have Optiwands that they use to check high risk breaches." As he speaks he approaches the front door and runs his hand a few inches from the borders of it. He looks confused for a moment and then licks a finger and does the same.

"You okay?" You ask him.

"Could ask you the same thing, I don't feel anything."

You furrow your brow and step forward to hold your hand right where you felt that chill before and...nothing.

"Huh. I guess the breeze was part of my Shivers?"

Grey eyes you, the same analytical gaze you always get when your abilities come up.
"Guess so, regardless, it'll take longer to get in contact with the Tac squad and borrow a wand than it'll take for me to put boot to door."

"Then let's hit it."

You both head to the back and stack up, Grey taking the lead, you draw your pistol from your hip and he pulls a sleek black pistol from an ankle holster. You raise your eyebrows but decide to stow the questions.

"No hinges." Grey whispers.

"Copy."

You put a hand forward onto his shoulder and give it two firm squeezes, he takes the signal and leans back raising his foot and slamming it just below the door knob. It dent's inwards but doesn't open, he heaves once more and the second kick send it flying open. You both enter with weapons drawn and eye sharp.

"GCPD!" He calls into the dark of the storefront.

Only silence and the rattle of the busted door answer you. The store looks abandoned but still somewhat put together, dust swirls and dances from the commotion but it soon settles back down onto mostly empty display cases and the old tile floor. Grey leans down and holsters his sidearm before pulling out his phone and sending a beam of light across the dim store. You follow his lead.

"Seems empty enough." He says while pointing his beam towards a slightly open door revealing a toilet sporting a long ribbon of toilet paper. "Only other room is the bathroom."

You step around the check out counter and look around, the storefront is pretty small and a few canisters of Helium remain along with a smattering of random party favors, this place looks like it was cleaned out in a hurry but most of the small merchandise still seems to be around. A large whiteboard sits in the corner with a long dried drawing of a red balloon and the words: "FLASH SALE" written at the bottom.
>>
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Grey heads to the front door and slaps a switch, sighing when nothing happens.

"The one time City Hall has their shit together."
He leans and grabs at the brown paper covering the windows, running his index along the seam to carefully peel it, dim grey sunlight invades the dark shop and he flicks his light off.

"I guess I'll check out behind the check out, see if I can't find a ledger or some inventory sheets or something that gives us an idea of what was going on here. Where are you gonna start?" He asks you while fishing in his jacket for a small plastic baggy of gloves.

>"I'll take one for the team and start with the bathroom, if I was gonna hide something that would be a top contender."
>"I'll check out these display shelves, maybe they left something useful behind?"
>"The whiteboard, seems a bit weird to have in a store like this right?"
>"I put money on the floorboards and I meant it, I'm gonna hunt for loose tile."
>Write-In

Just so you guys have a vague lay out and something to base Write-In's on I've included a lay-out of the building, It's incredibly detailed I'm sure you'll be impressed.
>>
>>5949703
>>"I'll take one for the team and start with the bathroom, if I was gonna hide something that would be a top contender."
Whatever's in that abandoned toilet can't be any worse than what was in Gotham's sewers.
Also note to self, we should buy some proper flashlights. I'm talking something small, all metal, maybe with a crenelated bezel, and BRIGHT. 2K lumens minimum.
Mark's maglite is kinda shit as a light and improvised weapon and Grey could stand to have something better than a piddly little phone light.
>>
>>5949703
>Write-In
Depending on the age of the building / last building refit, see if any of the rooms we enter have a "drop Ceiling", for anything that is abnormal. I'd expect wire / pipe / HVAC routing but you never know, since its dark and may have easy access to utilities, while remaining obscured, so would be a good place to put thigs.

This tends to be preferred over subsurface routing since you would otherwise need to interact with the slab, which can cause issues.

Also if we can find the electrical junction box we can inspect it to if things are as "expected" or have been "hot wired" to bypass the box, or are otherwise tapped. we could also potentially turn the power on to various circuits e.g. lighting, or others as needed.
>>
>>5949703
>"I put money on the floorboards and I meant it, I'm gonna hunt for loose tile."
>>
>>5949718
Fuck it let's get creative
+1
I imagine power and AC and similar might be key if our guy was also behind the museum rigging
>>
>>5949703
>>"The whiteboard, seems a bit weird to have in a store like this right?"
>>
>>5949703
>>"I'll take one for the team and start with the bathroom, if I was gonna hide something that would be a top contender."
>>
>>5949710
Forget 'Cobra', we're the Toilet Snake at this rate.

>>5949703
>>5949718 +1
>>
>>5950146
Snakes do be slithering up out of toilets at an alarming rate in certain parts of the world.
>>
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>>5950154
Kek, that works too but I just meant one of these suckers.
>>
>>5950177
>literally the cobra tool
Jesus fucking Christ kek. Beautiful.
>>
Check the ceiling:
>>5949718
>>5949736
>>5950146

Bowl Patrol:
>>5949710
>>5950112
>>5950146


Why not both? Writing.
>>
>>5950371
Double decker duty.
>>
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You sigh heavily and pull your own gloves from your duty belt.

"I've already seen the worse of what Gotham's sewer network has to offer so I may as well take the bullet and check the bathroom first."

Grey gives you a mock salute.
"Godspeed, Rookie." He tells you before chuckling to himself and delving into the contents of the check out counter.

You head into the restroom and pull the maglight from your belt, the wide beam illuminating the room with dim light, a quick glance around the space confirms your suspicions. This place is filthy. The grout between tiles is clogged with thick and dark gunk. the base of the toilet stained with a variety of oblong stains, and the toilet seat itself is stained with brown smears you'd rather not think about. You test the sink and a small dribble of slightly off color water dribbles out.

"Water is cut too." You shout.

You shine your light along the walls and see a variety of circus themed pictures and art, some of it on the floor in cracked frames, while the floor is littered in odd scraps of paper and some sort of confetti. You kneel down and pick up a long and thin scrap of paper, turning it over in your hands, something about it makes you furrow your brow.

"Grey, you ever hear of non-colored confetti?"

"White is a color."

You grunt and drop the piece in a tiny baggy anyways. As you rise your head passes the bowl and you see something that makes you shine a light inside; a small crumbled ball of paper sits in the flange almost out of sight. You reach in with two gloved fingers and pluck the ball out of it's hiding spot before doing your best to unravel it, the stiff and yellowed paper resists your attempts to open it up, it must have been wet at some point and now it's almost petrified in this shape. Some careful tugs and the ever reliable method of running it along a smooth edge manages to straighten the paper out. It's about the size of a sheet out of your pocket notebook and the text on it has bled into the surrounding space but you can still barely make out that it's some sort of equation. You pull your own notepad and pen jotting it down before holding your light on it and staring, you screw your mouth up as you try to dig through your brain to see if you know anything about this.

"You are a fucking moron." You hear behind you.

You spin rapidly shining your light.
"What?" You ask.

"What's up?" Grey calls from the counter.

"Did you say something?"

"No? Did you hear me say something?"

You swallow once and shake your head.
"No, but I did find something. Come take a look."
>>
Grey enters the bathroom, a bag in his hand containing some bills, he gives you a quizzical look but before he can ask anymore about your outburst his eyes lock on the paper in your hand.

"What's that there?"

"Wanna trade?" You ask him offering out the crumpled note and your copy. He hands you the bag in exchange, inside is a small stack of bills, mostly ones and a few fives look back at you through the plastic.

"They left behind money in the register?"

"The lockbox. It was only nine bucks but still, cash is cash and it's strange to not take it with you, the fact everything else from that box was missing makes it fishy."

He pulls out his phone and shines a light on the paper.
"Random equations are also more than a little fishy."

"Do you recognize it?"

"Not at all. But we have a financial crime unit for a reason and those guys are some heavy duty number crunchers, they could probably tell us about this." He sighs and pockets your bagged note before shining his phone light around the bathroom. "This spot clear?"

"Pretty much, besides that confetti I found on the ground." You sweep with your light over the floor and Grey sticks a hand out and grabs your wrist.

"Let me borrow your light."

"You don't have anything stronger than a phone?"

"I'm a senior detective, Mark. I'm not exactly responding to murders anymore, sorry I didn't bring my DUI lamp, I'm just a desk jockey now."

"Could have fooled me." You grumble as you reluctantly hand over your flashlight.

He takes it and moves the beam a few inches back from the scattered scraps of paper and aims it at the toilet seat, he kneels down and extends a blue gloved finger towards a brown smear.
"What's this, Rookie?"

You rub your neck.
"Uh.."

"it isn't a trick question, what do you see here?"

You clear your throat awkwardly.
"A shit stain, sir?"

Grey shakes his head.
"There's no crust, no raised peaks, and.." He reaches out and swipes at an edge, elongating the smear. "No flaking. It rubs off."

"Right.." You mutter as your face contorts into barely hidden disgust.

"It isn't shit, DeLucia, for christ's sake stop being a baby. This is dirt."

"Dirt? This place is abandoned but it's been sealed up, dust is one thing but dirt would have to come from outside."

"There you go. Tell me why dirt could be on this seat then."

You put a hand to your chin and prod at your bottom lip with your knuckle, most people aren't going to be carrying enough dirt on their person to leave a mark unless they're truly filthy but if that was the case the entire seat would be filthy. You lean down and touch the side of the flashlight slowly guiding Grey's hand to the opposite side of the seat and smile. Just as you thought.

"A second mark." Grey says with an approving tune in his voice. "What could leave two dirt smudges about the same distance from each other, DeLucia?"

"Shoes." You answer confidently.

Grey raises the beam and you both stare at a drop ceiling.
>>
"Someone was climbing on the toilet to get access to the ceiling." You say to yourself, wasting no time to climb onto the porcelain throne yourself, holding a hand out for your light back. Grey obliges and positions himself to help steady you by putting a firm hand around your belt.

"Go for it, make sure you get a good look around."

You carefully press your hand into the tile and it lifts from the framework of the ceiling with a soft crack. Dust stirs and swarms around you like a horde of gnats as you drop it off to the side. You rise yourself on your toes just to get your chin above the hole, your arm contorted at an uncomfortable angle, as you sweep the beam slowly and shakily over the black space.

"See anything?" Grey calls from below.

"Whole lot of wires, pipes, some sort of reflective tubing?"

"That's normal, HVAC and all that, anything else?"

Your eyes strain in the dark and you have to blink rapidly to keep the onslaught of debris from getting in your eyes but you still manage to catch it. A solitary slip of white paper coated in a thick layer of dust, surrounding it you see what appears to be thin hairs.

"I got something, grab a bag for me."

You feel Grey fumble with your duty belt and pluck a bag from one of your compartments, passing it to your free hand. You gingerly lay your light on the tile in front of you and snake your hand over to grab the slip, it feels strangely soft in your hand and falls limply as you lift it from it's resting place. The additional hairs around it are snagged between straining extended fingers and manage to jiggle down into the bag. You pull your arm back and drop the baggy down the hole as you withdraw, grabbing your light as you do, the next minute or so consists of Grey examining the slip at multiple angles as you chain sneeze violently in the corner. When you finally stand straight again and blink the tears from your eyes does Grey hand it to you.

"Look familiar?"

You squint and rack your brain.
"It looks kinda familiar, something about this shape is.." You let the sentence trail off as your mind begins to click the pieces into place. "Is this?"

Grey nods, moving his phone light directly below the bag and exposing a faint watermark on the off-white slip.

"It's a blank bill. Those fibers inside? Probably the red and blues they use now too."

"Holy shit." You mutter. "Is this enough for a warrant on Kal Late's businesses then?"
>>
Grey grimaces and shakes his head.
"It's circumstantial at best, he hasn't been the owner of this place in months, it would be an easy lay up in court to blame it on the 'criminal element' in the city."

"But it isn't useless, if we had a chat with him maybe we could get something out of him? Use this as some sort of leverage?"

Grey takes the bag back and looks at it contemplatively.
"Do you wanna do that? Head to his office and stick this in his face? See if we can strong arm him?"

>"I think it's worth a shot, at the very least it'll let him know we're on his trail. Apply pressure and maybe he slips."
>"I do. But I know it probably isn't the best move, criminals always slip when they're the most confident, just like you said."
>"I do, but not now. It's been a long day and we have a sting that just may implicate him in all of this. If we can build more of a case then we can strike and try to flip him."
>"No, we can't brute force every suspect. The only way we get this guy is out-thinking him, getting just ahead of him enough that we can trip him up."
>Write-In

Sorry for the delay in getting this whole thing out guys, work kept getting in my way. It was also just a lot of text, really enjoyed that >>5949718 called the ceiling before I even mentioned it. Very clever, anon.
>>
>>5950429
>>"I do, but not now. It's been a long day and we have a sting that just may implicate him in all of this. If we can build more of a case then we can strike and try to flip him."
This will also give us time to do some theory crafting and come into the "interview" with some better questions.
>>
>>5950397
>"You are a fucking moron." You hear behind you.
Thanks Riddler?

>>5950429
>"I do, but not now. It's been a long day and we have a sting that just may implicate him in all of this. If we can build more of a case then we can strike and try to flip him."
Stick to the plan for tomorrow
>>
>>5950455
Given someone else may have said something... lets leave before we get overheard?

coulda been shivers though.

Also tfw I just saw that equation yesterday
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A5w-dEgIU1M

That's the options pricing equation thing
>>
>>5950429
>"I do, but not now. It's been a long day and we have a sting that just may implicate him in all of this. If we can build more of a case then we can strike and try to flip him."
>>
>>5950429
>>"I do, but not now. It's been a long day and we have a sting that just may implicate him in all of this. If we can build more of a case then we can strike and try to flip him."
Besides, maybe some other little bits will pop up from other places before we meet. You never know.

>>5950455
>Thanks Riddler?
I'm just saying if these phantom voices keep talking shit I am going to vote to punch them.

>>5950466
Oh no, stock marketeering.
>>
>>5950429
>"I do, but not now. It's been a long day and we have a sting that just may implicate him in all of this. If we can build more of a case then we can strike and try to flip him."
>>
>>5950429
>>"I do, but not now. It's been a long day and we have a sting that just may implicate him in all of this. If we can build more of a case then we can strike and try to flip him."
>>
>>5950429
>>"I do, but not now. It's been a long day and we have a sting that just may implicate him in all of this. If we can build more of a case then we can strike and try to flip him."
>>
Apologies folks but it looks like things are going to get really busy for me, I'll make up for it with an extra update in one of the coming days. Feel free to keep voting or get into theory crafting like >>5950436 mentioned.

Hoping to wrap up this day and the next and then we can start next weeks session with the Sting Operation.
>>
EXHIBIT A - THE PADLOCK
>bright silver padlock clasping it shut as you approach you notice that strangely enough it's only locked around the links of the fence itself, only slightly away from the proper placement, you wonder if this was done on purpose
EXHIBIT B - PRINTING FRESH AND INSERTED THOUGHT
>the smell of freshly printed paper and still drying ink
>"What the hell was that?" You mumble to yourself.
>'Necromancy, green idolatry, and greed.' You think to yourself.
EXHIBIT C - SUSPICIOUS BRICK
>A lone brick surrounded by mortar that is just ever so slightly lighter colored than the surrounding area. The brick itself looks just as old as all the others, it's bright red now dulled away into a pinkish brown, you step forward and press two fingers into it firmly. It holds firm and it's surface is flush with the wall, even if you could remove it you could only push it inwards
EXHIBIT D - HIDDEN MATH
>some sort of equation.
>"You are a fucking moron." You hear behind you.
EXHIBIT E - THE MONEY
>a small stack of bills, mostly ones and a few fives look back at you
>only nine bucks
>we have a financial crime unit for a reason and those guys are some heavy duty number crunchers
EXHIBIT F - BLANK BILL
>exposing a faint watermark on the off-white slip.
>"It's a blank bill. Those fibers inside? Probably the red and blues they use now too."
EXHIBIT G - THE DROP VENT
>"Someone was climbing on the toilet to get access to the ceiling."

>>5950436
>>5950455
>>5950466
>>5950474
>>5950478
>>5950481
>>5950499
>>5950512
It's a counterfeiting operation. The Calculator a.k.a. Calc, who is the resident Anarky boss, is masquerating as Kal Q. Late and buying random properties as fronts to run his counterfeiting operation in. Once he needs to switch locations, he "cleans up" and sells it off, leaving the locations with vulnerabilities for Anarkists to exploit later just in case, as well as clues a la Riddler to sate his caped villain ego. We should absolutely tell somebody to check behind that one suspicious loose brick outside, if we can't do it already before we leave this joint.

But how does this relate to the museum raid? Or to the other sensations Mark got from Shivers here? The "cold outside and warmth inside", the "necromancy" part of the message, the resentment? Or whoever is telepathically giving Mark those messages? If Kal Q. Late was a blatant clue name, is "T. Sale Art Supplies" also one, or are we reading too much into this?

This is all unrelated to S.I.M., but it is loosely related to Anarky as well as the sewer escape the mob bosses use. The plot thickens...
>>
>>5942835
>"If it was flowing down this way though it had to be dropped in before the cistern otherwise it'd have probably gotten busted up."

>>5943761
>"Yeah if it were a malt bottle I'd reckon it was one of the other construction crews tossing shit in the sewer."
>"Those are private jobs, not city contracts. They get better pay than us but not enough to afford a 900 dollar bottle of champagne."

>>5946156
>"Yes, sir. Apparently the buildings over there aren't city contracts, you have any way of knowing who's running the show for that site?"
>"Crew looks normal enough to Kimble, the signs say KL Industries. Stands for Kal Late apparently."

>>5946361
>He's been buying small properties all over Gotham's out-skirts for months and then flipping them or abandoning them at random.
>he keeps buying things that are nearly out of business and then just selling the land or dumping the property when the business fails. None of them had any profit change that could indicate he's using them to wash his dirty bills and none of them are construction projects like what he has going on by the club.

>>5942847
>"..this way..up and you'll be...." It's finer point hidden under the sounds of water and the various drips and drops of the tunnel.
>Another voice rings out, this one loud and slurred.
>"It fucking REEKS down here, my assistant set this up so just get me out of here. I'm fucked up."
>"...voice down...occasionally check the...follow me."

>>5948739
>"This file is from one of the more recent purchases, right before it turns into his construction projects, and it's the fucking museum. Where Anarky attacked."
>"I fucking knew it. This building sat empty for almost a month and then the day Wayne announces his intentions to try and find a venue to host his museum it hits the market."

THAT'S HOW IT RELATES TO THE MUSEUM RAID
Calc initially bought the place to run his counterfeiting there or something bigger maybe. Business as usual. Then when he found out Bruce Wayne needed a museum venue, Calc went crazy doing last-minute changes to the place to set it up for the Anarky attack.
While Mark and GCPD tried to trace the sewer route to the Tobacconist Club, they stumbled into Calc's operation with his construction guys underneath the site he's using. That fucking champagne was Calc's. That was HIM down there im the sewer!
>>
>>5950673
Actually... How long has Calculator been working with Anarky? Maybe he used the museum as a means to get into Anarky's organization, or to climb the ladder to his current position?
>>
>>5950685
Calc was brought up even before the museum attack. I'm not going to bother to go reread the info on Calc, and simply trust things to come up as relevant as we go
>>
>>5950686
I think Cesar was the one who told us about Calc.
We should talk to him about this, maybe he knows a thing or two.
>>
It's been a long day for our Rookie.
>>5950436
>>5950455
>>5950474
>>5950478
>>5950481
>>5950499
>>5950512

Writing.
>>
"I do." You answer honestly, but you take a beat and a breath. "But not now. It's been a long day and we have a sting that might just implicate him in all of this. If we can build more of a case then we can strike. Maybe even try and flip him."

Grey nods and smiles.
"That's what I wanted to hear. Looks like you know how to pace yourself after all."

"I only said my pace was higher than others, I'm not at marathon levels yet."

"I don't doubt you'll get there."

He gestures for you to follow him as he heads for the front door and pulls his phone out of his jacket.

"Go ahead and get out of here, we got enough evidence that some kind of crime happened here. I can call in a CSU team to give this place a proper sweep." He speaks as he walks.

You follow along, feeling the weight of the day finally settling on your shoulders now that the end is in sight, your head droops a little as you quietly do some breathing exercises. That's when you spot it. Your hand shoots out and grasps Grey by the collar of his coat.

"Stop!" You shout.

He doesn't make any attempt to pull away or remove your hand. He completely freezes.
"What is it?" He says very quietly.

You give his collar a light tug and he takes your cue to take a tentative step back until he's lined up with your shoulders. You crouch down and click on the light revealing, hidden in the shadow of the doorway, a small black box with a red tinted glass lens bout the size of a phone camera's. Closer inspection now shows a small silver canister, the size of a nitrous oxide canister, stowed just barely peeking out of the back. The top of the box sports a black seam in the center separating a small black metal disk from the plastic of the box.

"I saw one of these in the Sewer too, guy on the crew told me it was probably a moisture sensor, I didn't get a chance to really examine it before we went back though but I didn't notice any sort of canister with that one."

Grey kneels down slowly and also looks it over with the same calculating expression he usually sports when mulling something over. Very slowly you watch as he slides down to his stomach and lays his head sideways to the ground; his lips purse and he releases a steady huff that kicks up a cloud of dust into the path of the box showing a thin red laser flickering in and out of existence. Grey rises to a sitting position as he puts a hand up to his mouth and stifles a cough, it's aggressive and crackling, he violently shudders with each expulsion but after a few seconds it fades away as he clears his throat a few times.
>>
"Goddamn dust allergies." He mumbles to you, before extending an arm, you help him back to his feet and he clears his throat one final time before speaking in a somewhat hoarse voice. "We need to get the fuck out of here, take the back door and don't touch anything else, if this is what I think it is then I need to call in bomb squad."

"Holy shit. You think Calc left us an IED?" You ask as you both head for the back door, careful to watch your step.

"I think someone could have, I'm gonna call Kimble and get him heading over here to run the scene while bomb squad checks things out." He hacks one final time and spits into the dirt of the alley while slapping coagulated dust and dirt from his dress shirt. "Fucking filthy."

"You sure you don't want me to stick around?" You ask him uneasily, something about him tickles the back of your mind and makes those familiar cogs start to turn.

"I'm positive, you did good work today and we need you tip top for the sting. So just get home and take it easy tomorrow. I'll handle the paperwork for this, God knows I have the experience. I'll catch a ride with Kimble back to the station."

You nod your head and say your goodbyes reluctantly as you go back to the front. You give the building one last look and the clown on the front sign stares back at you. You frown and get in your car to head home.

======

You towel off your hair and give yourself one final smell test before you settle on the third shower being the one that finally got the stench of Gotham's plumbing off of you. You toss the towel into a half full basket and grab a beer from the fridge before completing your nightly ritual by collapsing on the couch, letting the muscles in your legs and shoulders finally relax. You flick on the television and skip around the channels until you land on a documentary about World War II, a topic your Grandfather was very interested in, letting it play in the background as you let your thoughts drift aimlessly. You try to ignore the lump in your gut that's under everything else thinking about what SIM had told you earlier in the day, during your drive to the construction yard you had sent Question a text asking him to make an anonymous call, but you find yourself dwelling on other things. The voices you'd heard earlier have you worried, the more new ground you cover with controlling and utilizing Shivers the more it seems to be emboldened, you can't help but wonder just how deep the rabbit hole will go. You try to push these worries from your mind and focus on what it is you can control in the moment which, right now, is basically how you spend your day off. You take a deep swig from your bottle and consider...
>>
>Seeing Caesar tomorrow, he informed you about Calc to start with so he could be a good intel source. But also you just want to check in on him and his family.
>Visiting your parents, these old memories and this uncertainty you feel right now have you off your game, seeing your Mom and Pop would be nice right about now.
>Spend the day meditating, Grey was right when he said you needed to be in top form for the sting, you should make sure your connection with Shivers is stable and strong. It could be the difference between making a bust and fumbling this entire op.
>Go for a drink at that bar where you met that GCFD Woman, Allison, maybe if you're lucky she'll be there again.
>Meet up with...(Banks, Question and Huntress, Etc.)
>Write-In

You can vote for multiple options if you wish but vote for them in order of importance to you, circumstances may not allow for everything to be done in a single day.
>>
>>5951181
>>Visiting your parents, these old memories and this uncertainty you feel right now have you off your game, seeing your Mom and Pop would be nice right about now.
>>
>>5951181
>Spend the day meditating, Grey was right when he said you needed to be in top form for the sting, you should make sure your connection with Shivers is stable and strong. It could be the difference between making a bust and fumbling this entire op.
This isn't as personal as SIM, but this is BIG when it comes to wider-scope Gotham
>>
>>5951181
>Visiting your parents, these old memories and this uncertainty you feel right now have you off your game, seeing your Mom and Pop would be nice right about now.
>Meet up with Question and Huntress. If they're thinking about showing up to the sting operation, it'd be best to coordinate with them and get a proper plan going.
>Spend the day meditating, Grey was right when he said you needed to be in top form for the sting, you should make sure your connection with Shivers is stable and strong. It could be the difference between making a bust and fumbling this entire op.
>Go for a drink at that bar where you met that GCFD Woman, Allison, maybe if you're lucky she'll be there again.

Ordered top to bottom, most to least important.
>>
>>5951181
>>Visiting your parents, these old memories and this uncertainty you feel right now have you off your game, seeing your Mom and Pop would be nice right about now.
>>
>>5951193
+1
>>
>>5951181
>Seeing Caesar tomorrow, he informed you about Calc to start with so he could be a good intel source. But also you just want to check in on him and his family.
>Visiting your parents, these old memories and this uncertainty you feel right now have you off your game, seeing your Mom and Pop would be nice right about now.
>>
>>5951181
>Seeing Caesar tomorrow, he informed you about Calc to start with so he could be a good intel source. But also you just want to check in on him and his family.
>>
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>>5951184
>>5951193
>>5951201
>>5951312
>>5951389

Your parents. It feels like forever since you saw them last, at graduation, they probably wouldn't mind a drop in visit. The more you sip away at your beer and let the stress of the past couple days circulate around you, the more you think a trip home is exactly what you need right now. You finish up your bottle and let it clunk into your plastic trashcan before grabbing another, you can afford to stay up late tonight and head over later in the morning, a stray thought passes your mind. Caesar, it's been a while since he's been in contact with you and vice versa, you pull out your phone and select his contact.

"Checking in, how's the family doing?"

You fire off the text, frowning at the time, if you had thought about it earlier you'd have called. Maybe you can talk to the Commander soon and see what the status of Caesar's dad is after this sting. You toss the phone on your coffee table and sit back for a night of channel hopping.

============

You fill the closed space of your cold hands with warm breath as you walk to your car, the early hours are getting crisp now, hopping into the driver's seat you swallow a lump in your throat and check the silver flip phone.

No Calls.
No Messages.

Whatever that psycho is up to he isn't keeping you in the loop, not yet at least. You toss it into it's ceremonial spot at the back of the glove box and get the heat pumping as you head off to Burnside. You remember when they finally decided to come back that your parents had a spat over where exactly to move to, your dad was dead set on The Hills and it wasn't until your mother called you in and forced him to listen to some crime statistics they had been teaching you in the academy that he decided maybe the neighbors weren't worth the rent. Your mom of course would have lived in Bristol if they had an extra paycheck or two lying around but she eventually settled with being on the opposite side of Gotham River. You spend your drive thinking about your childhood and before you know it the time has passed and you're shifting your car into park and stepping out. You approach the door and give it your firmest "Police Officer" knock and assume the stance. A few moments pass and then the door cracks open and you find yourself looking at a mirror into your future.

"Mark!" Your dad lets out with a smile and raised eyebrows. He pulls you into a tight strong hug and then holds you by your shoulders as he looks you over.

"Hey pop." You let out with a smile of your own.

"Hey yourself big guy, what are they feeding you in the city? I swear to god you're twice as big as when you graduated." He calls over his shoulder. "Honey, Mark is here!" He pulls you inside and leads you to the familiar living room where you take a seat.

"Did I catch you guys at a bad time?" You ask him gesturing to the dress shirt and tie he wears.
>>
"Quite the contrary." He says before leaning in and whispering. "Your mother was about to take me to a brunch being hosted by her friends in one of her clubs. You know her."

"Mario, were you calling.." Your mother speaks as she walks into the living room fixing a pearl earring into place. She stops when she sees you and a wide smile appears as she shuffles over yo give you a kiss on the forehead.

"Ma.." You mumble as you swipe the spot with the back of your hand.

"Shush. I'm allowed to be excited to see my son." She tells you with that air of matriarchal authority.

"Pop told me I was interrupting something, a brunch?"

"Ah, it's not important. Just a couple hens talking about the latest drama in the neighborhood." Your dad says waving a hand.

"Well it is a Neighborhood WATCH, honey. We really shouldn't keep them waiting too long."

"They'll be fine, anyways you can tell em to WATCH somebody else, sometimes I like to have my coffee on the porch in my robe and I don't need someone taking pictures of my.."

"Mario." Your mother states.

"Pa." You state at the same time holding up a hand to shield you from the mental image.

"I'm just saying, a man deserves his privacy." Your father reiterates with two hands raised. "But you didn't drive out here to hear about neighborhood issues, what's got you coming up? This isn't a work visit I hope."

>"Not much, just been a long week at work and wanted to come see you guys. I can join you at Brunch if you want."
>"Hard week. Just needed one of those pep-talks you used to give me when I was younger."
>"No reason really, was just hoping to spend some time with you guys on my day off.
>Tell them everything, the trouble with SIM, Your clash with Dent, everything that's been stressing you out just dump it.
>Write-In
>>
>>5954266
>Tell them everything, the trouble with SIM, Your clash with Dent, everything that's been stressing you out just dump it.
Superheroes keep secrets. Superheroes also pay for keeping secrets, every single time. We're not a cape. I think it'd be good to keep our family in the loop so they know they should probably keep a gun under their pillows.
>>
>>5954291
You sure you wanna spill it all? They could be held hostage or worse over being civilians in the know
>>
>>5954266
>"Not much, just been a long week at work and wanted to come see you guys. I can join you at Brunch if you want."
Wholesome. Cute!
>>
>>5954291
Some of our info is confidential and need-to-know-only even among police, let alone civvie relatives.
>>
>>5954266
>"Not much, just been a long week at work and wanted to come see you guys. I can join you at Brunch if you want."
>>
>>5954309
Would you rather your family get held hostage by SIM without them knowing why and being completely unprepared for it, or SIM showing up at their doorstep one day and them knowing exactly what to expect on that fateful day?
>>
>>5954315
>>5954340

"It's not about work, but it has been a long week at work, I just wanted to come and see you guys. I could join you at brunch if you'd like?"

Your father gives you a look of pure and utter betrayal as your mom puts her arms around your neck and gives you another quick hug.
"That would be wonderful, Mark!"

"Better than it was gonna be, at least." Your father grumbles as he stands and heads to his coat by the door.

"It's fine if I wear this? You guys are all dressed up."

"You're a cop." He says matter-of-factly. "What are they gonna do? Ask you to leave?"

"They might."

All you get in response to that is a half hearted shrug.
"Would be a shame if we had to leave early due to it."

Your mother reappears from the room now clutching a purse and a small plate layered in plastic wrap.
"You made Nonno's Cannoli?"

She nods proudly and passes the plate off to you as she slides into a pair of short heels.
"I always make something when the watch meets up."

"It's the only reason half of em show up." Your father chimes in, a stern look from your mother gets him chuckling out the door as he starts the car up.

Riding in the backseat with a plate of saran wrapped cannoli in your lap leaves you with only one thought: You feel about ten years old at this very moment listening to your parents banter in the front seat with each other again over the soundtrack of your father's old Bill Weather's CDs.

"I meant to ask you kiddo, how could you tell those were your Nonno's cannoli?"

"I...I don't know actually." You realize you had no moments of calculus, you simply knew.

"Was it one of your Shakes?"

"Shivers." You correct

"Let me turn the AC down." Your father says twisting the knob up front. You smile despite having heard that joke nearly a hundred times by now.

"I actually saw Nonno, in one of my Shiver visions."

"Oh yeah? How was the old man?"

"It was that time we went to the park after I got in that fight at school.

"I remember that." He says, his face screwed up in thought in the rearview. "If I remember correctly he said something along the lines of that I should go easy on you cause I'd done worse."

"Is that true?"

"Only when it involved your mother."

"You were such a gentleman." Your mother says, gently stroking your fathers cheek. You make a face, force of habit.
>>
The car comes to a stop and everyone unbuckles. Pop takes a deep sigh and looks back at you.

"If I start snoring just let me go."

"Mario!" Your mother says giving him a playful slap. "Take this seriously, for me."

He shakes his head as if he's mulling the idea around.
"Alright, alright. But if anyone gets in the way of me and a Cannoli I'm treating em like Jay Schaffer."

Your mom blushes and smiles.
"Stop it."

"Who is Jay Schaffer?" You ask, hoping to stop this scene of PDA from playing out any longer.

"One of the reasons I went so easy on you for getting in a fight at school." He laughs as he opens the door and steps out. You go to follow but your mom sets a hand gently on the plate before you leave. Her face is a strange look you haven't seen before and she avoids your eyes.

"Mark, Sweet pea..."

Your eyebrows narrow, she only ever called you sweet pea before dropping bad news like another move or the next big test from the doctor coming back with nothing.

"Yes?"

"Don't get the wrong idea, you know I love you and I am so very proud of the man you've become."

"Okay?"

"But, when we go in and sit with everyone I just want you to be ready, in case anyone says anything..rude."

"Rude? Are these people not nice to you, Ma?"

"No no! It isn't that. It's just this is a neighborhood watch and well some of the members have...strong opinions, you could say, about GCPD."

"Oh so you think they may try and rile ME up?"

"Well no...because.." She purses her slips and sighs. "I've never mentioned to them that you're a police officer."

"Why not?"

"It just never came up! I promise. We don't usually talk about personal things outside of neighborhood events so all they know is that you live in the city."

"So you want me to hide it? Ma, this is a little silly."

"Look, I just want this brunch to be nice. It's the first one I've actually been the host of, I set up the reservation here, so it's all kinda on me."

She gets a deadly serious look in her eye as she shifts in her seat to place one hand gently over yours.
"I love you, Mark. I love you too much to ask you to pretend to be anything other than you. You spent too long having to hide and I don't want to ask you to do that again, I just wanted you to be aware." She gives your hand a warm squeeze and she sighs as she looks at you, the only way you could describe her look is prideful. You feel a pressure build in your chest.

You take a second to collect your thoughts and tell her...
>"I'll keep it to myself, I don't need to bring it up, people are allowed their opinions."
>"I'll keep it to myself , but if someone brings it up and asks then I won't lie."
>"I'm not going to hide anything, I'm damn proud to be in the GCPD. Besides, they just haven't met a good cop to change their mind yet.."
>"I'm not going to sanitize myself for out of towner yuppies, if they want to speak poorly about my profession then they can do it knowing I'm right there."
>Write-In
>>
>>5954416
>"I'll keep it to myself , but if someone brings it up and asks then I won't lie."
>>
>>5954416
>>"I'm not going to hide anything, I'm damn proud to be in the GCPD. Besides, they just haven't met a good cop to change their mind yet.."
>>
>>5954416
>"I'll keep it to myself , but if someone brings it up and asks then I won't lie."
>>
>>5954416
>"I'll keep it to myself , but if someone brings it up and asks then I won't lie."
They will probably find out eventually and it would be worse if i lied about it
>>
>>5954416
>>"I'll keep it to myself , but if someone brings it up and asks then I won't lie."
>>
>>5954416
>"I'll keep it to myself , but if someone brings it up and asks then I won't lie."
I mean, GCPD has a bad reputation for a reason, and we all know it.
>>
>>5954416
>>"I'll keep it to myself , but if someone brings it up and asks then I won't lie."
>>
>>5954416
>>"I'll keep it to myself , but if someone brings it up and asks then I won't lie."
>>
>>5954421
>>5954484
>>5954513
>>5954588
>>5954614

You squeeze her hand back and let out a small sigh, but still smile.
"I'll keep it to myself, Ma, if someone brings it up and asks I won't lie."

"I wouldn't ask you to." She tells you gently.

"Besides, that bad reputation exists for a reason. Just hope that one day I can help fix it a little."

You pop open the rear seat and step out before joining your father as he's crouched down examining a well trimmed hedge, mumbling to himself about needing a new weed whacker, he spots you over his shoulder and straightens up brushing off his jacket and pants. The Morning Garden, a pretty fancy bed and breakfast by most people's standards but to you it's opulent, reservations here couldn't have been cheap.

"Ma, how did you afford this place for a brunch reservation?" You ask as you all pass beneath an ivy and flower laced wrought iron arch.

"The community has yearly dues that go into a fund for expenses like setting up meetings."

You grunt in response, shortly after feeling a nudge of your father's elbow.

"I asked her the same thing the first time she took me to one of these things." He whispers.

"How much are these dues?"

"Six hundred."

You almost trip over your feet upon hearing that, an action that your mother waves a hand at.

"Don't be dramatic, once a year isn't that bad."

You catch a familiar look from Dad.

"I guess not." You mumble to yourself.

Entering the building your greeted with gentle music and a scent like Honeydew on the air, a kind faced older woman escorts you three to a small sectioned off part of the garden where a set of tables lie with a gorgeous spread of food. Boards with slices of thin cut cured meats, cheeses, fruits, and a small bowl of honeycomb even. Some other dishes on display are clearly homemade and you get to making space for the cannoli while your Mom goes around greeting her friends with hugs and some gushing over clothes or jewelry. Your father wastes no time joining you at the table, picking up a slice of cured salami and tossing it back, all the while giving some of the other guests awkward nods and a few How ya doin?'s.

"Who is that handsome young man?" You hear an older woman say.

You feel your Dad's powerful hand hit your shoulder, it reminds you of Hawthorne, as he gestures with another slice of Salami.
"You know me June, I'm Mario!"

She laughs lightly and you get a shake as he continues.
"No though, this here is our boy Mark. He popped over for a surprise visit so we brought him along."

You give an awkward wave as every eye settles on you. A shiver runs through you but you're pretty sure this time it's purely nerves.
"Hello.." You mumble.

A scattering of Hellos and How do you do's come from the group of nearly ten people.

"So." June continues. "You wanted to surprise your parents? How sweet, was the trip long for you?"

"No Ma'am, I live just over the river in Gotham."
>>
"Oh that must be interesting. I hear things have really been happening in the city." She says with a polite smile.

"Just the usual, ma'am."

"Please, call me June."

You clear your throat and give a nod, taking the chance to break the conversation and go find a seat, unfortunately as you sit down you appear to be the focus of the conversation now.

A man in round thin framed glasses sips from a mimosa and eyes you up. As you field the general getting to know you questions you keep tossing him glances and he's always in the process of dragging his eyes over you.

"So, yeah at the moment single." You say awkwardly answering June's sixth prying question into your personal life. You make direct eye contact with the spectacled man and hold it, he narrows his eyes.

"Have we met before?" He asks you.

You take in his features and think on it for a moment.
"I don't think so, no. Where do you think we've met?"

"I work in Gotham, I commute from out here every day. I can't help but peg you as familiar."

"What's your line of work?"

"Administration, I work at City Hall. Have you been?"

"Only twice, Sir. Very impressive building, gorgeous."

He rolls his eyes and sighs.
"It's an eyesore, thankfully Mayor Dent has plans on renovating it before his term ends."

"Don't they all." You say chuckling.

He smiles thinly and nods.
"They do indeed. Politicians, one and the same I say, only thing that changes about working at City Hall is who's name is on the door."

Another man speaks up, this one an older man with grey well styled hair and a silk vest over his pressed shirt.
"I think Dent is doing great work, his policies have a lot of potential to make Gotham habitable for normal people again."

He holds up a hand to you.
"No offense intended of course."

Before you can even answer the man in glasses replies.
"Dent talks a good game but when push comes to shove I think he'll be leaving office without achieving any of his goals. The man just doesn't have the get up and go to push his change, he's still worrying about approval rates and everyone getting along. If you want to make change in Politics, especially lasting change, you can't let the vocal minority get in the way"

June sighs and rolls her eyes.
"Isn't there a saying about Religion, Sex, and Politics when it comes to first impressions."

"You're thinking first dates." He replies. "Mayor Dent is still on his first date with Gotham and he wants everyone to be on board with his more controversial plans before he puts them into action and that's exactly why they won't ever get off the ground."

"I think you're a pessimist, Issac." June replies. The grey haired man raises a glass to her in support, before draining it.

"I'm realistic." He replies with an annoyed tone, he points a long finger at you. "Let's ask Mark, he lives in the city, maybe you'll listen to his perspective. What do you make of Dent , Mark? As one of his constituents."
>>
>"Mayor Dent is trying his best, he has great intentions for Gotham I just think it's a little more complicated than it seems."
>"Mayor Dent is doing a good job I think, he's made some steps with reforming the police department and working with Wayne to bring more art and culture to the city."
>"I don't really follow politics, I'm the wrong guy to ask about this kind of thing."
>"Dent is like any other politician, you say what you need to in order to get votes, if he actually does what he says then that's just a bonus."
>"Harvey is a tool, I met the man once and it wasn't a very pleasant experience."
>Write-In (encouraged)
>>
>>5954967
>"I didn't have the best first impression of the guy, but hope springs eternal. Not that I really keep up on politics."
>>
>>5954967
>>Write-In (encouraged)
>"There's something about him. I think he has the hard edge necessary to get things moving. It seems like he's trying the carrot before the stick. If even half of what he says he's trying to do is what he means I think it'll be a good thing for Gotham. But you know how the saying goes, "Pray for sunshine but pack an umbrella.". This city has a bad habit of throwing curveballs."
>>
>>5954967
>>"Mayor Dent is trying his best, he has great intentions for Gotham I just think it's a little more complicated than it seems."
>>5954978
This too
>>
>>5954967
>"I didn't have the best first impression of the guy, but hope springs eternal. Not that I really keep up on politics."
>>
>>5954967
>"I didn't have the best first impression of the guy, but hope springs eternal. Not that I really keep up on politics."
We're not exactly over the moon for this guy, I remember he tried to threaten us to be silent or something.
>>
>>5954978
supporting
>>
Gonna wait for a tie breaker or flip here in a little under an hour or so.
>>
>>5954978
supporting
>>
>>5954967
>>5954972
+1
>>
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>>5954978
>>5955003
>>5955047
>>5955073

"There's something about him. I think he has the hard edge necessary to get things moving, it just seems he's trying the carrot before the stick. If he means even half of things he's said he's trying to do I think it would be a good thing for Gotham."

Issac leans forward and raises his eyebrows over the rim of his glasses.
"And if he doesn't?"

"Pray for sunshine but pack an umbrella." You state simply while holding eye contact.

Isaac nods a few times.
"Your son has a good head on his shoulders, even if he's a little starry eyed for my tastes."

"You mean reasonable? Not everyone can afford to be a cynic, like you." The grey haired man quips over a freshly topped glass of wine.

"Not without proper insight. I think the things I do because I see the cogs of the machine, you think the way you do because you see the freshly painted exterior."

"Oh Jesus, let's not start this again, okay?"

"Start what?" You ask, your mother gives you a tired look the second the words escape your mouth.

"Issac has some sort of complex or something, because he works in City Hall he thinks he knows best about everything."

Issac shrugs and smiles.
"Obviously some people value my mindset, I beat you for head of the watch didn't I, Art?"

Art's eye twitches and he simply sips at his wine quietly, fuming. Issac turns his attention back to you, leaning in his chair he waves a hand vaguely.
"Maybe if you're interested you could come into City Hall some day, Mark. I could show you around and let you experience what it's like to work so closely with the mayor."

"Heh. Maybe." You reply dryly.

"Of course it wouldn't be anytime soon, the hall has a packed schedule for the coming week or so."

"Stop being coy about it and just brag already." Art says.

"Maybe we should start the meeting?" Your mother offers quietly, she is sharply interrupted by Issac.

"We will, remember that as head I set the start and wrap up time of meetings. Have some wine or something in the meantime." His dismissive tone makes you grind your teeth. You look to see how your Dad is handling it but your mother already has her hand on his forearm while he holds his eyes on Issac, his expression like carved stone.

"As I was saying, I'd love to show you around Mark but we're packed with events. We have an award ceremony for some cop at the start of the weekend and then a ribbon cutting ceremony for a Classic Film Theater that Wayne is opening in the East End."

"Sounds busy."

"Too busy, and for things that barely matter. A police officer got injured at the museum event Bruce Wayne holds and we throw him a party? Dedicate city funds to rewarding someone who did their job? If it was any other location he'd have gotten the same thing all injured cops get, a bundle of balloons and a teddy bear. But because it happened at a Wayne establishment it get's our full attention." He drains the final remnants of his mimosa and points a long finger at you.
>>
"I'm telling you Mark. Bruce Wayne will be the downfall of MAYOR Harvey Dent, the man just can't say no to his friends and it kills our optics. People see a man using his immense power to signal boost and elevate his already disturbingly wealthy friend and it won't be long before the corruption allegations start piling on top of him, if he isn't careful our name will be as filthy as the GCPD's."

"Is that so?" You ask coldly, he doesn't seem to pick up on your tone and carries on, from the corner of your eye you can already see your mom angling her head downwards.

Issac grabs a tall jug of vibrant orange liquid and refills his glass slowly.
"That's just my perspective however, I'm not paid to advise the Mayor and I don't work for free, so I just focus on what ends up on my plate."

"What is that generally?"

"Public Relations and Event Coordinating." He states with a smug smile plastered to his face. "It must sound very boring to you, I'm sure, but it's important work. Speaking of as well, I don't believe I recall what you did for work? You live in the city so I'm sure it must be interesting at the least."

You glance to your Mom but her face is already hidden behind a hand that wipes at her forehead.

>"I'm one of those 'filthy' GCPD. I actually got an invite to that event this weekend as well, seeing as a personal friend of mine was the injured officer."
>"I do some work for the city, obviously not as important as your work if we've never crossed paths, but generally I just try to help people out where I can."
>"I'm a beat cop, I just try to keep my head down and do my job mostly."
>"I'm a cop you jackass, I'm actually amazed you managed to get a career in public relations when I've heard Academy instructors speak with more respect to people."
>Write-In
>>
>>5955103
>>"I'm one of those 'filthy' GCPD. I actually got an invite to that event this weekend as well, seeing as a personal friend of mine was the injured officer."
>>
>>5955103
>>"I'm one of those 'filthy' GCPD. I actually got an invite to that event this weekend as well, seeing as a personal friend of mine was the injured officer."
>>
>>5955103
>"I'm a member of the GCPD. I have to disagree with your assessment over the worth of Officer Bank's sacrifice - this wasn't a 'getting shot during a liquor store holdup' moment. He was facing down a flying pyromaniac with napalm, and was injured while doing his best to protect others. He went above and beyond what was expected of him, and were it not for the miracles of modern medicine, he would be facing permanent disability because of it. If a soldier did the same you can bet your ass he'd get a purple heart for it."
>>
>>5955107
+1
And that's worth more than some balloons and a teddy bear
>>
>>5955103
>>"I do some work for the city, obviously not as important as your work if we've never crossed paths, but generally I just try to help people out where I can."
let's just not make mom's day any worse
>>
>>5955103
>"I'm a beat cop, I just try to keep my head down and do my job mostly."
Let’s not antagonize him and its not like we are gonna convince him about anything cop related.
Just try to not embarrass mom and not be called out for lying later
>>
>>5955151
+1
I do want to push AT LEAST a little bit about what he said about Banks, so I'm gonna add

>"And the officer that you talk about is Officer Banks, a friend of mine who I was with when the attack at the Museum happened. So I have to clarify in case you didn't know or aren't that notified, that Officer Banks was not just shot, but saved Major Dent from the attack of a crazy pyromaniac using napalm. And before anyone asks about it, that's all I'll say about the matter.

I feel that we not only make an excuse for this idiot to talk that way about Banks but also put our ground.
>>
>>5955103
>"I'm a member of the GCPD. I have to disagree with your assessment over the worth of Officer Bank's sacrifice - this wasn't a 'getting shot during a liquor store holdup' moment. He was facing down a flying pyromaniac with napalm, and was injured while doing his best to protect others. He went above and beyond what was expected of him, and were it not for the miracles of modern medicine, he would be facing permanent disability because of it. If a soldier did the same you can bet your ass he'd get a purple heart for it."
>"I'm one of those 'filthy' GCPD. I actually got an invite to that event this weekend as well, seeing as a personal friend of mine was the injured officer."
>>
>>5955103
>"I'm a cop you jackass, I'm actually amazed you managed to get a career in public relations when I've heard Academy instructors speak with more respect to people."
>>
>>5955103
>>5955107 this is great
>>
>>5955103
>>"I'm a beat cop, I just try to keep my head down and do my job mostly."
>>
>cops are ass lmao
>You know that guy was set on fire, right?
This is one rough fucking meeting kek
>>
>>5955107
+1
>>
>>5955107
+1
And add, with a deadpan expression:
>"Sorry fi I'm a bit passionate about this subject. It's just banks is my friend, and I was there when he was disfigured and nearly killed."

>>5955103
>>
>>5955107
+1
>>
>>5955107
supporting
>>
>>5955107
>>5955118
>>5955216
>>5955310
>>5955349
>>5955557
>>5955930
>>5955172

You let out a solitary dry scoff and shake your head.
"I'm actually a member of the GCPD."

You see his face lose a little color and he clears his throat awkwardly. Art laughs himself before sighing.
"You've stuck your foot in your mouth now, Issac."

"I was only speaking my opinion." He says weakly giving you a look like a dog, post newspaper.

You hold up a hand and give a light but cold smile.
"I just need to say that I'd have to disagree with your assessment over the worth of Officer Bank's sacrifice - this wasn't a 'getting shot during a liquor store holdup' moment. He was facing down a flying pyromaniac with napalm, and was injured while doing his best to protect others. He went above and beyond what was expected of him, and were it not for the miracles of modern medicine, he would be facing permanent disability because of it." You start your response calmly but the more you talk the more the frustration of what he said sets in and the volume of your voice increases, when you reach the end you close your eyes and exhale through your nose before finishing calmly with; "If a soldier did the same you can bet your ass he'd get a purple heart for it."

"Napalm?" June asks with a hand over her mouth and a look of horror. "So that officer was..."

"He was burned. His name is Banks and he took his injury protecting Mayor Dent with no thought about what would happen to him, and before anyone asks that's all I'm willing to say on the matter."

Issac keeps silent, his face a light pink. Art shakes his head with a few of the other guests.
"I apologize for speaking as I did, if I had known.."

"No, let me apologize for getting a little passionate about it. Banks is a personal friend and I was on the scene with him when he was nearly killed."

Your mother's head shoots up at that line and it's only your father's gentle touch to her shoulder and a subtle shake of the head that keeps her from launching into you with questions of her own.

"Being a cop in Gotham of all places, quite the career choice son." Art comments with a motion of his glass.

"I was born here, I want to see the City reach it's potential, and I'm going to help as many people as I can along the way."

"If only more of your colleagues felt the same way, GCPD is far from sparkly clean." Another woman with a radiant white dress comments.

You find yourself at a loss for words at that comment, you're only one man and not one in any sort of position to effect change within the department, you find yourself nodding slowly as you think it over. Issac takes the time to awkwardly clean his glasses and try to return to his normal hue.
"For now maybe." You finally say. "But the way I see it is, if we work together to make the city a place where good people flourish, it's only natural that more good people will stream into the department and continue our work."
>>
"That's quite the optimistic view." She replies.

You shrug and smile.
"Hope springs eternal."

A sudden noise breaks everyone's attention as Issac loudly clears his throat, seemingly composed once more.
"Thank you, Officer DeLucia, for your words. They were powerful and very thought provoking. Unfortunately we are here to conduct a meeting, so as head of the Burnside Neighborhood Watch I declare this meeting officially started, sadly this means we will be limiting our conversation to subjects on the docket."

Everyone grumbles and sets their glasses and finger foods aside as they scoot into the table. You decide to take the opportunity of the meeting to excuse yourself and take a small walk to regain your own cool fully.

You walk into a gorgeous section of garden, small stone statues of cherubs and doves spurt thin streams of water, the smell of honeydew overtaken by rose and fresh soil. You check your phone absent-mindedly and see no alerts, you frown and feel a shudder hit your spine, somewhere in Gotham rubber sole meets pavement. A cold breeze infiltrates the hedge walls of the garden and you hear the labored breathing of a runner coming to a stop, or maybe it's just the rustling of flowers and stem. You feel compelled to move your hand to your back pocket and touch delicately, your wallet gives softly to your firm touch.

Before you can dwell on it you hear a familiar scraping and click behind you. A sweet scent hits your nose and you turn with a sigh.
"Pop, I thought you quit."

Your father approaches you with half a cigarette pinched between his ring and middle finger.
"I said I was thinkin about quitting. Decided just to cut back to half a day."

"Half a day?"

He takes a short drag and blows the smoke gently into the sky.
"I smoked the first half of this yesterday after the mower chipped a blade on some rocks, goddamn kids, it's a good system though. Saves me a ton on packs, I can stretch a single row of cigarettes for two weeks at least if I'm careful."

"Pop, wouldn't you save more money just not buying em at all?"

"Probably, but I'd pay a lot more in legal fees. That fuckin cazzone back there, talking to your mother like that, I had a mind to pop him in his mouth." He takes another drag and breathes it out slowly once again, savoring it. "Trust me, it's cheaper to smoke."

"Speaking of that cazzone, shouldn't you be attending that meeting?"

"Nah, I ain't a part of the Watch. I just come because your mother wants me to, you know how she is, she's a community person. Thank the lord all the houses around us got sold, otherwise I'd be delivering more pie than Pizza Palace!"

You laugh and shake your head.
"You're crazy, pop."

He take his final drag and dips the glowing bud of his cigarette into a shallow puddle. He groans as he lowers himself down to reach it and for the first time it hits you that he's getting older, the silver streaks in his hair and the wrinkles around his knuckles, it puts a weight in your chest.
>>
He raises himself up slowly with a hand on his knee, standing straight up again he becomes that broad and tall figure you remember from childhood once more. He slowly approaches you and places his hands on your cheeks and holds your face, he stares at you with his dark eyes and you see a small glimmer.

"I'm proud of you, buddy." He says simply, giving you a light tap on the cheek with one hand just as your grandfather used to do. "Your mother and I, we've always been proud of you, and I wanna make it clear that I don't care that you didn't tell us about the Napalm Man or whatever he's called."

"Firebug." You say quietly, slightly embarrassed.

"Sounded like a real fruitcake." He jokes, pulling his hands away but still looking at you with that glimmer in his eye. "You and I understand something your mother doesn't, we were both born here. Walked the same streets. Ate the same food. She isn't from here, she doesn't understand how real it actually gets." He blinks and you see the slightest lining of water on his lower eyelid.

"You good, Pop?"

He laughs and thumbs at his eye.
"Yeah I am, I just. We were so worried when you were growing up that we were just gonna mess you up, you know? When we moved I was worried that I had taken your home from you or something, that you'd hate me, or hate Gotham. But you were always a positive kid."

"Pop.."

He holds up a hand.
"I'm just damn glad you turned out how you did, is all. I know you don't wanna worry your mother, so if you ever need to get something off your chest about work or even just life, I want you to know you can still talk to me about it cause I get it. We're both Gotham boys."

He blinks himself dry and then gives you his classic bear hug with a nice solid thump on the back.

"I will, Pop." You tell him, feeling a sting of your own.

"Good. Real good, Mark." He says before looking over his shoulder. "Should probably get back so your mother doesn't start worrying about me too. You stickin around after this? Usually they mill around when the meeting closes and get into the food and everything proper."

Your hand rests on your pocket.
"Maybe."

"You look hungry is all I'm saying, don't leave without getting something to eat, and don't forget to say goodbye to your mother!"

You smile as he disappears back around the corner of the bushes, your fingers drum on the smooth glass of your phone and you think about Caesar. He hasn't responded to your message, but he does have school so maybe he's just busy. All this talk of Banks also has him on your mind, maybe it'd be nice to go relax with someone who understands the cop life a little more?

>Stick around after the meeting. (Talk to who? Do what?)
>Go grab a handful of meat, cheese, and crackers and tell your mom bye. You have other places to be. (Head where, call who?)
>Write-In

Big walls of text mean one thing: Character Survey moment. How do you guys feel about Mark's parents and some of the tiny things we got about his past?
>>
>>5956012
>>Go grab a handful of meat, cheese, and crackers and tell your mom bye. You have other places to be. (Head where, call who?)
lets head back home and call banks and see how hes doing
>>
>"You look hungry is all I'm saying, don't leave without getting something to eat"
Ah, classic immigrant-family dad...

>>5956012
>Stick around after the meeting (Catch up with mom, maybe chat with this Art dude)

>How do you guys feel about Mark's parents and some of the tiny things we got about his past?
I like them a lot, and this has been a nice diversion. They feel familiar yet distinctive. Excellent character work as always.
>>
>>5956012
>Go grab a handful of meat, cheese, and crackers and tell your mom bye. You have other places to be. (Head where, call who?)
>Got hit up Caesar's place. Worst case scenario, you get this off of your mind and let his family know you haven't forgotten about them.
Momma DeLucia reminds me of my grandma, Poppa reminds me of my own father. I am immediately biased towards the both em, just good folk.
>>
>>5956012
backing >>5956038
I'm glad Mark had a good past. I never had any parents as good as his, far from it.
>>
>>5956012
>>Stick around after the meeting. (Talk to who? Do what?)

Parents sound like good grounded folk, trying to do their best.
>>
>>5956038
+1
I liked how the parents were written. Good job as always, QM.
>>
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79 KB JPG
>>5956038
>>5956061
>>5956229
>>5956029

Something in your gut tells you to check in on Caesar, if nothing is up then you wasted a little gas to show him you haven't forgotten about him or his family. You head back the way you came and round the corner as Issac holds up a yellow Styrofoam sign.

"So we'll be giving one of these to all of us here, if any neighbors are interested in some let me know and we can get more put together."

You ignore his nervous glances at you as he continues speaking and take a moment to load a napkin up with a few slices of meat, cheese, and crackers. You carefully fold it to contain your loot and then make a way over to your mom, you lean down and give her a kiss on the forehead.

"Gotta go, Ma. Got some business to take care of." You speak quietly, not looking to disturb the meeting, but the conversation from Issac and the others still fade as they watch you get ready to depart.

"Work?" She asks with a concerned face.

"Checking in on a friend is all."

She gives you a smile and nods. You lean around her and give your Dad a hug with your free arm.

"Have a good day, buddy." He tells you quietly.

"Bye, Mark! Come around again sometime, it's nice having a new face around." June coos at you from behind the rim of her fourth glass of wine. Art shakes his head at her and gives you a simple respectful nod.

"Yes, please feel free to come again officer." Issac tells you with a customer service smile. "It would be nice to discuss how the GCPD could work with the Neighborhood Watch at some point, another time of course."

"Maybe we can talk about it at the ceremony this Saturday then." You tell him as you slip a cracker free from it's paper prison. "I'm Banks plus one so I'll see you there."

You toss the cracker back with a shit eating grin as Issac's face shows you he could want nothing less than to speak to you again.
"I would like that." He says.

Your father lets out the beginning of a dry laugh that he disguises as a throat clear. Issac gives him a look for a few seconds before clearing his own throat and lifting the sign.

"These will be five dollars to replace if damaged, members can buy them from...."

You head out through the double glass doors.
>>
You step out of the Taxi in the familiar smog and comforting dim grey light of Gotham City once again. The distant outline of Arkham Asylum on the horizon makes your hair stand on end, the idea of the Asylum never sat well with you, you remember when you were young a group of children taking bets on when you'd be admitted. It was the usual childhood hazing but the idea of going into any facility let alone Arkham terrified you, not that you ever let them know.

You shake it off and turn back, checking deep in your messages to confirm the address, Coventry. Used to be a pretty nasty part of town until Dent ended up stripping Cobblepot of the Iceberg Lounge and worked with Gordon to herd the criminal element out of the district. You look across the river looking at the Hill in the distance and the Narrows. What Coventry lost in crime they gained, a point that many of Dent's political opponents brought up, right now they're some of the worst districts in the City. You're pulled from your thoughts by a figure in a window of the apartment building looking down on you, the familiar silhouette of Caesar stands at the window before quickly moving away. You scan the street and spot the plain clothes monitoring them, you make a point to ignore them and head in as casually as you can, the building is pretty clean by Gotham standards. As you approach the top floor you step out and head for Caesar's apartment, as you walk over you hear muffled voices aggressively thumping against the heavy doors.

"-BITCH, THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?"

Another loud thump followed by a new voice, equally irate but higher in pitch. A woman's.

"-A JOB, DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT IS?"

You sigh and glance at Caesar's door, it's his cross hall neighbor so maybe he could fill you in a little more on what may be going on.

Another loud thump breaks your train of thought and you furrow your brow. If this is a domestic you're obliged to step in, but you have no idea what this situation could even be, you rub your forehead and...

>Knock on Caesar's door, you came here to check in on him, besides it's your day off.
>Knock on Caesar's door, he could give you a little more information about his neighbors. No reason you can't check on them when you finish with him.
>Knock on the neighbor's door, knock normally and be casual. No need to escalate anything.
>Give the Neighbor's door the Cop Knock and announce yourself as GCPD, at the very least it'll set the tone and make them reconsider all the ruckus.
>Write-In
>>
>>5956797
>>Knock on Caesar's door, you came here to check in on him, besides it's your day off.
>>
>>5956797
>Knock on Caesar's door, he could give you a little more information about his neighbors. No reason you can't check on them when you finish with him.

Dent took the Iceberg? Penguin must be FUMING.

Anyway, let's chat with Caesar, and ask if his neighbors are always like this, and if it really requires police presence.
>>
>>5956797
>>Knock on Caesar's door, you came here to check in on him, besides it's your day off.
>>Knock on Caesar's door, he could give you a little more information about his neighbors. No reason you can't check on them when you finish with him.
>>
>>5956803
>>5956804
>>5956901

You give Caesar's a light tap with your knuckles, still keeping an ear out for anything behind you though it seems to have simmered for now. The door clicks and opens inwards, revealing a familiar short girl.

"Oh, Hello." You say awkwardly, peeking behind her. "Where's Caesar?"

"Bathroom." She answers casually, sticking her own head into the hallway to peek around.

"You know you shouldn't open the door for strangers."

"Where's your friend?" She asks, ignoring you completely.

"My friend?"

"The big one, your Abuelo."

You raise an eyebrow and think for a moment before it clicks.
"Hawthorne?"

She brightens up and nods enthusiastically.
"Mhmm, he made me noodles."

"Yeah, I remember. He's at the police station working today."

"You don't have your cop clothes on." She tells you while pointing.

"Uh, yeah that's right it's my day off I just wanted to check on Caesar and you and your Mom."

She takes this silently and nods as you speak, her eyes somewhere else entirely. You shift awkwardly from foot to foot until you can't take it anymore.
"Can I come in?"

"No."

"Uh. Why not?"

"Caesar told me not to let you in until he was done."

"Done with what?"

She shrugs.
"The Bathroom."

"What's he doing in there?"

"I dunno.."

"Is that right?"

She remains silent, avoiding your eyes.

"What's your name?"

"Isabelle. Caesar calls me Izzy though."

>"Well Isabelle, I need to talk to Caesar, would you go get him for me? I can wait here."
>"I'm one of Caesar's friends, Izzy. I don't think he would mind if you let me in."
>"Isabelle, you know it's illegal to lie to the police right? Even if it's because your big brother asked you too, what's he up to in the bathroom?"
>"What if I promised to bring you a bunch of comic books next time I visit? Could you let me in then, Izzy?"
>You're a grown man and a police officer, you aren't going to negotiate with a child. Step past her and go inside anyways.
>"Caesar! If you're doing something illegal back there I'm going to be seriously pissed. Come out here now."
>Write-In
>>
>>5956965
He has right to privacy.

Just make it clear later that getting mixed up in things again defeats everything we set up
>>
>>5956965
>>Write-In
"Alright then. Just tell me this, is he keeping his nose clean, staying out of trouble?"
>>
>>5956970
+1 give them some space and be patient
>>
>>5956968
>>5956970
+1 to this approach.

>>5956965
I'm >>5956804 on mobile.
>>
>>5956965
>>"Well Isabelle, I need to talk to Caesar, would you go get him for me? I can wait here."
>>
>>5956970
>>5957101
>>5957167
>>5956968

"Alright then." You say sticking your hands in your pockets and leaning on the frame of the door. From inside you hear a slow Spanish ballad drifting in from a different room, hearing it makes you think of Hot Chocolate and Winter for some reason. "Can you tell me something else?" You ask the young girl who now just swings the door gently between her two hands. Despite you speaking to her she doesn't look at you, she just nods.

"Is Caesar keeping his nose clean? Staying out of trouble?"

Her mouth twists into a strange shape and she shrugs.
"I 'unno"

You kneel and speak gently.
"I'm not looking to get anyone in trouble, I just wanna make sure he's safe."

She shifts her eyes to yours before checking over her shoulder.
"He has a job now."

"Doing what?"

"He sells stuff."

"Is your mom home?"

She shakes her head.
"She said she had to see a attorney." She sounds out the final word with a look of great concentration.

You squint and remain silent, only standing back up. Caesar knows he shouldn't be out on the streets when Anarkists could still be milling around, as far as the job itself you can only imagine what a seventeen year old could be peddling in Gotham. You spend the next couple minutes overthinking until you finally hear a low voice from behind the door.

"Gracias, Izzy."

The young girl nods dutifully and turns on her heel, leaving the door without further comment, as she beelines for the room with the music Caesar takes her place.

"DL, my man. What's up?" He tells you, offering his hand up.

You swipe a finger under your nose and sniff, looking over your shoulder at the room across the hall.
"Mind if we step inside?" you ask him.

"Yeah sure, man. Mi casa es tu casa." He steps aside holding the door as you walk in.

You can see how nervous he is on his face, definitely hiding something, you need to settle his nerves and get him to lighten up a bit if you're going to talk to him.
"Your neighbors across the hall? They fight a lot?"

"We've heard em a couple of times, usually it's not that bad just some raised voices or whatever." He answer, his shoulders lowering from their tense position.

"Hmm." You let out as you look over a few framed photos, including one of a tall man with a straw hat carrying a young boy on his shoulders. The picture makes you smile, you feel a familiar warmth in your chest, but you don't let it distract you for long.

"They ever get physical? Or you hear anything that makes you think that?"

He shrugs.
"They sound like anyone having an argument I guess, I see em sometimes in the halls and they never got bruises or nothin."

You nod again.
"Good, I just heard some noise when I was coming up and you know how I am."

"Why not just use your magia then?"

"It's a complicated relationship between me and my..stuff."

The entire time you speak Caesar keeps his eyes glued on the floor or whatever knick-knack he can spot, never on you.
>>
"So why the visit DL? Something up with Bass Head or is this about my moms?" For the first time this chat he looks directly at you, seemingly worrying himself with the idea.

"As far as I know everything is fine with her, we're actually in the middle of a case that may be a big step in pulling this thing together."

"So then you came to check up on me?"

"You and your family. Wanted you guys to know I hadn't forgotten about you."

"Could have done that through a phone call or something you know?" He says moodily.

"I texted you but I guess you must have missed it." You reply, remaining the adult and letting his attitude slide off you.

"Ah..yeah my phone has been acting up." He says, that same nervous hunch reaching his shoulders. The same one he had when you first challenged him in that parking lot. He realizes how strange he must be acting and shuffles past you heading for the kitchen.

"Can I get you a drink or something DL?"

>"No thank you, but you can tell me what job you've been working."
>"I'd rather know what you were having your sister stall me to hide, Caesar."
>"Cut the shit, Caesar. I put my neck out for you with Bass Head so I expect you to be honest with me. What is going on with you lately?"
>"Hot chocolate, if you have it, I need to hit the restroom first though." Whatever he was doing in there maybe you can find some evidence?"
>"No that's fine, I just wanted to check in and I did. I gotta get going." Whatever is going on with him it's beyond your responsibility and you have enough on your plate.
>Write-In

Feel free to vote for multiple options if you want to chain things together, also just want to take a second and say I love the write in's you guys give me usually. If you submit write-in answers just know it's all appreciated even if it doesn't win the vote.
>>
>>5957676
>"Hot chocolate, if you have it, I need to hit the restroom first though." Whatever he was doing in there maybe you can find some evidence?"
>>
>>5957676
>>"No thank you, but you can tell me what job you've been working."
>>
>>5957676
>>"I'd rather know what you were having your sister stall me to hide, Caesar."
>>
>>5957676
>>"Hot chocolate, if you have it, I need to hit the restroom first though." Whatever he was doing in there maybe you can find some evidence?"
then hit him with
>"Cut the shit, Caesar. I put my neck out for you with Bass Head so I expect you to be honest with me. What is going on with you lately?"
>>
>>5957676
>"No thank you, but you can tell me what job you've been working."
>>
>>5957771
+1
>>
>>5957676
>>>"Hot chocolate, if you have it, I need to hit the restroom first though." Whatever he was doing in there maybe you can find some evidence?"
then hit him with
>>"Cut the shit, Caesar. I put my neck out for you with Bass Head so I expect you to be honest with me. What is going on with you lately?"
>>
>>5957685
>>5957771
>>5957971
>>5957816

"Hot chocolate, if you have it." You mutter as you walk slowly back down the hall, letting your eyes trail over the photographs that haphazardly dot the space. "Gonna hit the restroom first though, had a bit of a drive."

Caesar mumbles as he turns and begins digging through a cupboard and pulling out a yellow package and an old looking tin pot. He gestures vaguely behind his back.
"On the left."

You grunt in thanks and step away, heading for a small bathroom and stepping in, whatever Caesar was doing in here it was worth hiding apparently. You take a slow look around.

No trickling from the toilet, either the tank empties and fills quickly or he wasn't in here to use it. You let your eyes drift to the mirror, it's ever slightly so pulled away from the wall, a medicine cabinet. You touch the corner lightly with a finger tip and pull it open. A set of over the counter medicine, some toothbrushes, and something that makes your eyebrow raise. A small make-up bag sits with slightly open, you pull the zipper until it splits open revealing a brush with some fresh residue on it. The make-up feels oily and spreads thin between your fingers, recently used. You frown.

You head out of the bathroom and back to the kitchen, the smell of rich chocolate and cinnamon is in the air as you see Caesar lightly stirring a cinnamon stick in the pot, thick brown bubbles roiling around it. He doesn't turn when he hears you enter, just keeps stirring with his head down, you keep quiet and just watch. Another Hawthorne lesson, when you want someone to talk give them the room to do it themselves, you cross your arms and lean on the wall. After a minute or so of silent stirring he's starting to peek over his shoulder at you.

"Everything cool, DL?" He asks lightly.

"Cut the shit, Caesar. I put my neck out for you with Bass Head so I expect you to be honest with me. What is going on lately? What is this about?" You emphasize your point by showing him the light make up stains on your fingertips.

"Fuck.." He mumbles turning around again.

"Fuck is right. Tell me what's going on."

He flicks the stove off and fishes out the cinnamon with a spoon before setting it aside.
"Don't get me wrong, Officer. I appreciate what you did for Bass Head and all, but this really don't concern you."

"I'll be the judge of that, Caesar. I'm just worried about you, I wanna make sure you're keeping your nose clean."

You step to a side table and pull out a chair, it squeaks against the old wooden floors, you grab a seat for yourself and settle in. Caesar takes a moment to pour out a mug of the hot chocolate and sets it down in front of you.

"What did you want hot chocolate for, aren't you a little old for it?" He laughs.

You keep a stern face but speak gently.
"You share with me I'll share with you."
>>
He sits and sighs before wiping his hand across his right eye and cheek, slightly wincing as he does so, revealing a yellow and purple tinged series of bruises.

"Jesus Christ." You mutter, reaching out to turn his head slightly. "This have anything to do with that 'job' Isabelle told me about?"

"She what?" He groans, closing his eyes and letting a few breathy curses in Spanish slip out.

"Caesar. Talk to me." You tell him firmly.

"It ain't nothing like you think, DL. I swear it man."

"Then tell me about it, cause from my end it looks like you're taking day trips when you're supposed to be in Wit-Pro. If a single guy from Anarky sees you? If he follows you?"

"I know. I'm not an idiot, I keep my hood up and wear a mask. It's cold out so it isn't even suspicious like that."

"WHAT isn't suspicious like that?"

"The job!" He raises his voice but takes a moment afterwards to hold up his hands in apology. "Look. Wit-Pro was big, thank you. Thank you for also helping Bass Head, I know that type of shit aint your job. But us being here? My mom gets pennies, DL. We got just enough to eat and we ain't allowed outside contact."

"Slow down." You tell him as you see his agitation rising. You sip from the mug and taste rich hot chocolate with the warming flavor of cinnamon infused. You shudder.

"I sell fruit." He says quietly. His face darkens with embarrassment as he avoids your eyes. "I sell fruit on the side of the fucking parkway, by Gotham U. Okay?"

"But why? Is the department not meeting all your needs? I could talk to my commander, see about getting you guys anything you're missing.."

"It ain't that." He interrupts. "We can't have outside contact, and we only have the money you're guys give us. Means we got nothing left for my Padre's books."

You purse your lips and frown, nodding your head gently, it all starts to make sense now.
"You're making extra so your dad can still be comfortable."

He shrugs.
"It's stupid but. That shit you told me about being the man of the house? About needing to take care of the people I love? It got to me or something."

"And the face?"

He shakes his head.
"Two pinche Gringo did it to me. It's nothing."

"It's assault and battery on a minor."

He shrugs.
"Nobody done shit when I got a beating in the streets before. This is just how Gotham is."

"Who did it? Could you describe them? We could bring em in."

He shakes his head.
"I ain't snitching on nobody, DL. No way."

>"It isn't snitching, it's protecting others. You think those guys who jumped you aren't gonna do it to someone else?"
>"You're just gonna let some punks jump you and get away scot free? That's not like you. What has you scared?"
>"Hey it can be anonymous, you don't have to face these guys if you're worried about them retaliating."
>"I understand, you don't have to report anything but I can't have you sneaking out anymore. It just isn't safe."
>Write-in

Heavy work night may be disjointed with updates.
>>
>>5960209
>"It isn't snitching, it's protecting others. You think those guys who jumped you aren't gonna do it to someone else?"
>"Gotham gets better when people take action. You don't want it to be cops... I'll see what I can do."
>>
>>5960209
>>"You're just gonna let some punks jump you and get away scot free? That's not like you. What has you scared?"
>>
>>5960209
>"You're just gonna let some punks jump you and get away scot free? That's not like you. What has you scared?"
>>
>>5960209
>>"It isn't snitching, it's protecting others. You think those guys who jumped you aren't gonna do it to someone else?"

If it was gang fighting, that's one thing. These guys punched out a kid selling fruit. Do you really think they keep their violence to relevant matters like 'making money' or 'maintaining respect'? How the fuck does punching a kid working a normal job earn anyone any respect.

He doesn't have to snitch on who they are. If he's working a small shop, a plainclothes cop could just happen to be around at the same time for once.
>>
>>5960215
>>5960226
>>5960250
>>5960254

It's not snitching, Caesar, it's protecting others. You think those guys who jumped you aren't gonna do it to someone else?"

He shrugs once again.
"I dunno, but it aint the same for me like it is for you, DL. Your job makes you take an oath and all to protect people but the only people I need to look out for are here."

You grimace and lean back in your seat, throwing a hand up.
"Then let me phrase it like this, Czar, are you just gonna let some punks jump you and get away scot free? That isn't like you, so what about these guys scared you?"

His eyes flare and you see a similar look that came over him when you first met.
"I'm not fucking scared."

"Then tell me." You say firmly with a raised voice before leaning forward and speaking more softly. "Gotham gets better when people take action. If you don't want to talk to cops.."

You let the sentence linger, this situation is unknown but if it's really bad then maybe Question and Huntress could take some time to lend a hand.

Caesar leans back and huffs, letting his arm fall heavily to the arm of his chair as he stares past you. Calculating.

"Aight, I'm not making a report or nothing. You said it can be anonymous so take it and forget I said anything."

You stick a hand in your pocket and pull out your notebook. Caesar looks at it and chuckles.
"You're a bit of a nerd, DL, anyone ever tell you that?" You can see behind his eyes how much he's struggling with betraying this Street Law that had been ingrained in him.

"Tell me what happened, be specific." You tell him, clicking your pen.

"I was selling some Oranges n shit on the side of the road by Gotham U, I wasn't on the campus because I already got someone on my ass about it. So I moved just a little past, figured people coming in or out might buy from me. Poor college kids and all that shit, 50 cents for some fruit stacks up." His fingers drum the table and as he talks you see his eyes flicking around the table but looking at nothing in particular. You decide to hold your questions.

You nod to signal him to go on.

"Anyways I was minding my own business when this car pulls over, it's this white four door with two gringos in it. They ask me how much and I tell em, they make small talk asking what time I usually wrap up and if this is even worth the effort for how much I make. I was fucking stupid, didn't even realize they were sizing me up before they buy some fruit from me and fuck off. I didn't even think about it, I just wanted to finish my bag and bolt before the policia downstairs got nosey and did a house check. But an hour later they pull back up, they get out wearing these ski masks and run up on me." He clenches his fists now, and his eyes have an intensity.

"Calm down." You say gently. "Give me details."

"White. Both of em."

"And masks right? How did you know it was the same two guys?"

"They wore the same gay ass jackets. The ones with the big G.U. on the shoulders."
>>
"Got it." You mumble as you scribble it down, next to it you write a single word and circle it.

'Athlete'

"Go on."

"One of em came up behind me and snuck me. Straight in the back of the head. It wasn't that bad, I've had worse. So I turn around and I kick him square in the huevos, he fell over like a sack of shit." He laughs to himself remembering but then stiffles it as he grits his teeth. "But then his buddy came up, that fucker hit me like a truck, boom. Tackled my ass into the dirt and started wailing on me, mostly my ribs in shit."

Caesar lifts his shirt gingerly and reveals a set of gnarly yellow tinted ribs, one spot in particular is a deep shade of purple and you can see a faint marking in it. You scribble down again.

'Large ring, round sigil.'

"After that it was pretty cut and dry man. His buddy got up and ran my pockets. They threw my fruit into the street and said some..shit. Then they fucked off."

"They said something?"

He shakes his head and shrugs.
"They called me Narrows Trash and told me if they saw me around the college again I'd get it a lot worse. Just the usual tough guy bullshit. I couldn't really say shit back to them, I was on my stomach just trying to get air back in my lungs."

"And the facial bruises? You said the big one slammed your ribs but your face?"

"His little pussy friend. The big guy kept me down and he got a few licks in but I got the big dark bruise from when he left. Fucker kicked me in the side of the head."

"Jesus Christ, he could have killed you."

"Maybe, but all he did was fuck me up good. When I look out at night now the streetlamps got these rings around em."

You frown deeply.
"Caesar, you need a hospital. You may be concussed."

Caesar shakes his head.
"No way, DL. Ain't it enough I'm even talking to you about this? Besides you're the one saying I gotta be all secret. There aren't many hospitals in Gotham and half of em are selling pills out the back door. I go and someone will rat to Anarky."

>"It doesn't matter, your health is most important. We need to take you in."
>"You're right, but that just means you need a visit to an out of town Doctor. I can take you myself."
>"I can get someone from the department to make a house call, we have our own physicians."
>Let it go, you've asked more than enough of him.
>Write-In
>>
>>5960306
>"You're right, but that just means you need a visit to an out of town Doctor. I can take you myself."
>>
>>5960306
>>"You're right, but that just means you need a visit to an out of town Doctor. I can take you myself."
>>
>>5960306
>"You're right, but that just means you need a visit to an out of town Doctor. I can take you myself."
We're going to have to... leave Gotham City...
>>
>page 11
Archive it
>>
>>5960306
>>"You're right, but that just means you need a visit to an out of town Doctor. I can take you myself."
>>
>>5960391
>https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2024/5920234/
somebody beat me to it
>>
>>5960306
>"I can get someone from the department to make a house call, we have our own physicians."
I'm worrie da bunch of police activity here will tip someone off.



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