You blink once. A trickle of sweat drips down your forehead, drawn by your furrowed bro into your eyes. You blink the sting away and look past Kimble to the rear window of the SUV.

"There's nothing worth protecting back there.." Kimble says quietly, his eyes now locked onto yours.

You blink again and feel the rising heat from the side, your neck itches and the skin feels tight, you roll your head and swallow hard. Does Kimble really think he can order you to walk away from something like this? This isn't right, even though you don't like Dent personally you would never leave him to a fate like this, not when so much of Gotham still believes in his vision.

You grit your teeth and exhale slowly as your hand slinks down to your pistol. Kimble's eyes follow and flick back up to you filled with shock and scrambling desperation.

"Mark, don-"

He can't even finish his sentence by the time you clear the holster. You whip the pistol up and turn simultaneously as you set your hips flush with Firebug. Time seems to move in slow motion as you feel Kimble grasping your shirt, but you know you're faster, by the time he has enough fabric to yank you'll have already put a shot off. You clear your mind and let training and instinct into the driver's seat as your finger presses against the smooth trigger you see the shadow of a long barrel rising beside you. Banks stuffs the butt of his shotgun into his shoulder and joins you. You exhale and squeeze.

>Give me 3d100 for Mark
>Give me 3d100 for Banks

Mark will be a best of 3 due to your time spent focusing the Quick Draw.
Declare who for when you roll, as usual.

I trust you guys to use common sense and only double dip on rolls if it's been a while, to keep it moving.

-FOR NEW READERS-
If that intro-bit got you interested you can catch up on the entire story here:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=DetectQM

For my current readers here is a refresher on your current abilities and perks in the attached picture if you need it.

As always, I always love to get feedback so if you want to chat about the story, share theories on the case, etc in-between updates I love getting to read your thoughts. Thank you guys for following along and enjoying the story.

Also unrelated but whoever in the previous thread said they could read one of my scenes and picture it in their mind as a comic page, that is a great flattery and I thank you.

File: PERK-Listing.jpg (92 KB, 888x545)

92 KB JPG

>In the attached picture if you need it.
>Doesn't include it.

Here you go, gonna stop self bumping my own shit now.

Rolled 41 (1d100)

>>6003334
BANKS

Rolled 28 (1d100)

>>6003334
Lets go marrrky boiii

Rolled 88 (1d100)

>>6003334
mark

Rolled 92 (1d100)

>>6003334
CRIT SUCCESS FOR BANKS BABY, HERE WE GO

Rolled 84 (1d100)

>>6003334
Mark

Rolled 16 (1d100)

>>6003334

Come on Banks, take his fucking head off.

>>6003383
Fuck.

ROLLS:

MARK - 88

BANKS - 92

DC: 85

RESULT: PASS!

Banks had Best of Three because of the pep talk you guys gave him at the hospital, good work fellas.

Ah shit, Kimble means that the mayor isn't in the car, doesn't he?

The end of your barrel explodes in a flash of heat and light but you keep your eyes open the entire time, academy training keeps your hand steady and your feet planted but your heart pounds in your chest like some sort of caged animal. Your ears ring and you can barely hear Kimble screaming next to you as the hand that was reaching for your shirt closes into a tight wad of fabric and you feel his knuckles graze the back of your neck as he grips your collar. Every sensation is like feeling the ripple from a far thrown stone, you definitely didn't expect your first field discharge to be against a guy with a flamethrower.

He rocks backwards as your shot impacts and he looks down to the dirty and dusty chunk of lead embedded in his chest-plate. His thick gloved fingers run over it once before his head raises and he grasps the foregrip of his thrower. But before he can lift it even an inch another explosion rocks your ear from the right, you feel yourself being pulled and dragged along but you still catch a glance of Banks' face as the cloud of hot gas is blown away. The crazy bastard was smiling.

That's all you can register before your field of view is suddenly and violently reoriented as Kimble slams a foot against your front shin and rotates with that grip on your side and collar he heaves, with strength you didn't know he possessed, you go face first onto the hood of Dent's SUV and don't have any sign of stopping. You pull your arms up to cover your face as you flop off the other end like a limp bag of sand. Strangely enough you don't feel any pain as you scramble back to a seated position you hear another boom as the Shotgun is fired for a second time and you hear agonized groaning being filtered through an old military radio.

It feels like a bubble pops in your ear and all the sound comes rushing back in. The smell of gunpowder and whatever mixture Firebug has in those tanks assaults your nose and for the briefest of moments you feel as if all the air in your lungs vanished.

"Banks get the fuck back!"

A shuddering gasp from the other side of the SUV mirrors the return of your own breath and a familiar FWOOSH sounds as harsh light spills out from below. The sound of scattering gravel and scuffing boots preface the arrival of Kimble and Banks, the latter of which is being dragged by the face in a basketball grip. Kimble whips his arm off of Banks and crouches low.

"What the fuck are you thinking?" He asks Banks.

"The suspect was still alive and resisting, sir, I wanted to check-"

He's grabbed again and shaken harshly as Kimble screams red-faced.
"You weren't checking shit. You were going to execute him, like this is some kind of fucking movie. News flash, Banks, nobody wants to die. So the next time the enemy is within reach of his fucking weapon you will not fucking approach him. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir.." Banks answers him, quiet but not meek.

Kimble closes his eyes and takes a sharp breath.

"Next time. Just shoot him from a distance."

Kimble turns to you and slaps you in the side of the head.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" He asks.

"I could say the same thing to you, telling me to leave Dent? Are you insane?"

He squeezes his eyes again and shakes his head.
"Mark." He starts quietly. "Dent isn't in the fucking car. Okay?"

"What?"

"Yeah. He never was, I thought you knew that."

"How would I possibly know that, sir? I was in the crowd the entire time."

"Because I looked at you! I looked you in the eyes."

"You always look people in the eyes."

"Exactly! Which makes it real fucking suspicious that I didn't look at yours until I brought up leaving Dent."

"Kimble that just made me think THAT is the thing you were serious about!" You whisper-shout.

"I'm not good at this subtle shit, this is why you and Gray are the thinkers and Hawthorne and I are the hitters. Fuck!" He utters the last words as another spitting of flame jets out, leaving a splotchy trail past the rear bumper.

"What do we do now?"

"Banks put him on his ass, then he tried to be John Wayne and almost got toasted. Again. That asshole is probably just sat right now trying to feel his legs again, but he has his hands on that thrower."

"I might have knicked one of his fuel lines with my second shot." Banks chimes in. "I saw some kinda spray from around his shoulder, too far from it to be blood though."

"So he's spewing napalm all over the place?" You ask.

Banks shrugs.

"Fuck me." Kimble mutters to himself, pulling his own pistol and checking the mag and chamber. "I've got one mag."

"Three, I have your belt you can split from me."

Kimble takes the magazines and pockets them before getting his belly to the ground and peeking beneath the SUV.

"He's still down, but he's sitting up. Using the damn nozzle as a crutch."

"What's the plan?" You ask.

"We have to stop him now, we have him hurt." Banks replies to you, his eyes glinting.

"Easy, killer. He's wounded and now both of you know Dent isn't here. There's no reason to stick around, if we keep the car between us we can sneak off."

"Retreat? Are you serious?" Banks replies.

"Watch yourself, I get this is payback for you but we are not safe just because that asshole is winded. For all we know that suit has IED's set to blow if he goes dark."

Banks sucks his teeth and Kimble turns his head to you along with Banks, both men wait to hear your input.

>"We should finish this now, he won't stop coming for the mayor, we have to take him out."
>"We need to stop him, he isn't going to quit chasing Dent if he can, we have to take him in."
>"We need to get out of here, we got lucky earlier and hurt him but if he get's lucky one of us dies."
>"We need to retreat, back-up is coming in and even if he takes off we have choppers to pursue. We aren't alone."
>Write-In

>>6003434
>Write-In: use our powers?
>"We need to stop him, he isn't going to quit chasing Dent if he can, we have to take him in."

>>6003434
>>"We need to retreat, back-up is coming in and even if he takes off we have choppers to pursue. We aren't alone."
>>Write-In
Hes hurt and hes dropped that jetpack of his. Hes going to be slow. We open the car door on our side and hoof it, he'll think we took dent with us and we can lead him to the oncoming reinforcements.

>>6003434
>>6003457
Supporting this. If we try to retreat, might as well do it on wheels than on foot. Plus we can keep the ruse up.

>>6003457
+1
Damn sorry Kimble. I guess we players were too retarded huh? Does this count as a victory of sorts, or is this a fuckup?

>>6003457
+1
Have Banks shoot him a couple more times to cover our retreat.

That, and I find the image of this jackass using his flamethrower as a crutch to be very funny.

>>6003434
>"We need to retreat, back-up is coming in and even if he takes off we have choppers to pursue. We aren't alone."

Kimble, our anchor if authority, has lost both Delucia and Banks already in trying to communicate that Dent isn't in the car-> this suggest a status of continued confusion and DeLucia still defends his pov of that moment, so that's a while in our trio's alignment. That increases the odds of Banks Or Kimble dying while we're scattered, so it's best to maintain everyone's safety. Let's not just retreat, but make a plan and grid the area to keep a reference of time so we can have more cars scanning the street. Firebug is injured and slow, that makes him desperate- so he'll be quick to make a scene if he's spotted/cornered by a delirious state of survival so keep all scanning officers advised to use high precautions. This should locate him in very little time.

>>6003457
>>6003479
>>6003501
>>6003578
>>6004007

You turn to Banks and shake your head.
"We need to retreat. Back-up is coming in and even if he takes off we have choppers to pursue. We aren't alone."

You see his jaw set with gritted teeth and his hands wring the cold metal of the shotgun. You put a hand on the gun and reiterate.
"We aren't alone."

He looks up and sighs, nodding, before he looks to Kimble.
"Lead the way, sir."

Kimble nods appreciatively and begins to take a few steps backwards, you hold up a hand.
"That doesn't mean we shouldn't give him any reason not to walk into a trap of our own."

You place a hand on the silver handle to the backseat and Kimble grins.
"This is gonna piss him off."

"Good." Banks chimes in. "Let him follow us, he won't be able to resist."

You pull and the door opens, a pleasant jingle plays and the dome light illuminates the empty rear seats, you hear a grunting and groaning from the opposite side and begin to drag your feet through gravel making a loud ruckus.
"It isn't safe here, Mr. Mayor, come with us." You say just loud enough to be overheard. The responding jet of flame let's you know it worked.

"AGHHHH, HARVEY!" He screams.

You, Kimble, and Banks stay low and scuttle backwards, keeping low enough to the ground for the SUV to obscure your escape. Kimble plucks his radio from your belt and cranks the dial, cycling through channels until he finds one with active EMS coordination.

"Dispatch, come in this is Officer Kimble, 1-Adam-1. I'm being pursued by the suspect, requesting additional units and whatever else you can spare."

The radio crackles back.
"Copy, go Channel 6 for coordination with scene command."

As Kimble adjusts the signal you hear a sound that drops your heart into your stomach. The whirring and loud rumbling of that Jet-Glider's engines firing back up. Banks mutters a curse under his breath.
"That thing is still working?"

"Would be pretty stupid to only bring enough fuel for a one way trip." You respond.

"Kimble? I was waiting for one of you, this is a secure channel. What's the situation?" A familiar voice comes through the radio.

"Gray." Kimble says, relief flooding his words. "Things are FUBAR right now, I sent the Mayor away in a News Van it should be heading for City Hall right now."

"I'll coordinate some units to meet them. What's the 10-45 on your perp?"

"Wounded but not bad enough to stop him, EDP and in pursuit since he thinks we have Dent."

"Who's we? Give me full details."

"Officers Banks, DeLucia and I."

"DeLucia." He calls out from the box. "Where is Hawthorne?"

You grab the radio as you reach the end of the gravel and touch the sidewalk of the main street.
"I don't know, we got separated when we arrived. I evacuated civilians to the parking lot, but I didn't see him. Right now we're probably near the main street leading to the Fashion District."

There's a long pause and then it crackles again.
"I can have a SWAT truck meet you there, full load."

"We can't stay on the main streets, he may be going airborne."

"The other option is to hold position, I can try to get a team to you ASAP."

"Sir? If they come barreling down the street he's going to see them coming. They could-"

Kimble places a hand over yours and releases the button on the radio.
"He knows." He says steadily.

The radio crackles.
"Repeat that. What should I pass along?"

Kimble and Banks both keep their eyes upwards and guns at the ready.
"Way I see it we're fucked either way." Banks mumbles.

"Definitely not gonna be easy regardless.." Kimble follows up.

You look down at the radio in your hand.

>"We'll be hauling ass down the main street, have SWAT set up at the end, if he's in the air when we get to them it'll be like shooting skeet."
>"We're heading down main street now, have the SWAT team meet us halfway if they can. It won't be an ambush but maybe seeing us group up will scare him off."
>"We're hunkering down, there's a few buildings here that we can set up in and try to hide out until the cavalry arrives."
>"We're hunkering down, there's plenty of alleys in Gotham, when back-up arrives maybe we can surprise him."
>Write-In (encouraged)

I'd very much so like to hear your guys game plan ideas for this situation, if there is anything you want to ask me to better inform your decisions please do.

>>6004332
>"We'll be hauling ass down the main street, have SWAT set up at the end, if he's in the air when we get to them it'll be like shooting skeet."
Much as I don't want to drag him all along Gotham while he's pissing fuel, we need to maintain the ruse and keep him focused on us. If we can survive long enough to get him into position, I think we have a decent chance of turning him into swiss cheese.

>>6004332
>"We'll be hauling ass down the main street, have SWAT set up at the end, if he's in the air when we get to them it'll be like shooting skeet."
We should also get some water cannons/ fire trucks.

>>6004332
>"We'll be hauling ass down the main street, have SWAT set up at the end, if he's in the air when we get to them it'll be like shooting skeet."

Have SWAT concealed and ready to ambush Firebug at the agreed point. When he lands, have snipers target his thrusters to prevent an escape.

Green tip 5.56 should handle the rest. QM, does GCPD stock armor piercing rounds? If so, tell SWAT to load them up.

>>6004363
+1 this
Having fire safety units nearby will help suppress any disasters and treat any burns on-site in minutes

File: Spoiler Image (1.68 MB, 2480x3190)

1.68 MB JPG

God damn it, I suspected Kimble was trying to buy time, but I brushed the idea off. If only he said "There's nothing worth protecting back there.." earlier we would have got it. At least it kind of works as characterising Mark as a little brick-headed when it comes to DUTY AND JUSTICE.
>>6004332
>>"We're heading down main street now, have the SWAT team meet us halfway if they can. It won't be an ambush but maybe seeing us group up will scare him off."
I'm going with "Just shoot him" plan. SWAT pack assault rifles, they should put his ass down. There is now way they won't be able to hit an airborne target, and the range/accuracy of an AR is much better than the range of a flamethrower.
>Call for fire trucks, and if possible a helicopter. This guy's escape plan is to fly away leaving a massive smoke trail, this should be very easy to spot from the sky.

I plan on shooting him more with SWAT guys, then having a helicopter see where he flies away to, then Gordon hopefully sends more guys there. This is gonna be a long hunt, and some people are gonna get fried on the way. This is just how it is with supervillians.

If he gets away AGAIN, we could squeese Dent for GCPD budget. "See, we can't shoot down the guy who's hell bent on killing you, our guns are too small". You know how people in real life america are complaining their police is too militarised with ARs and armored trucks and such? We should get some of that.
Also have this sketch. I'm fighitng for my life trying to draw comic panels

>>6004332
>"We'll be hauling ass down the main street, have SWAT set up at the end, if he's in the air when we get to them it'll be like shooting skeet."
>"See if someone can shine a spotlight at him, blind him and light him up at the same time. Not from where SWAT's gonna be."
It'd be even better if it was a strobe, with how disorienting that shit is. I mainly want to NOT die here, so throwing him off any way we can is ideal.

>>6004413
Strobe light disorient is a creative idea, but hopefully it won't fuck with the SWAT aim too hard. They can just turn it off before shooting happens, but then Firebug will know and evade

>>6004411
I forgot to put this in my post in >>6004473 but THAT LOOKS SICK THANK YOU FOR DRAWING THAT AFTER I POINTED IT OUT IN >>5999326

Speaking of...
>>6003335
>whoever in the previous thread said they could read one of my scenes and picture it in their mind as a comic page
That's ME, you nigger! I have no comic book or /co/ background, so I cannot put slurs or similar insult terms they have for fantastic races in DC stuff because I don't know any. Alas.
>that is a great flattery and I thank you
You're welcome and thank (You) for running this quest without being QM Curse'd

>>6004411
Holy fucking shit, Anon. I don't even know what to say, absolutely amazing. Thank you

>>6004329
>"That doesn't mean we shouldn't give him any reason not to walk into a trap of our own."
>You place a hand on the silver handle to the backseat and Kimble grins.
>"This is gonna piss him off."
I want to say how I love we're making up for the communication fuckup with Kimble. That Mark played it so genuine and straight in the moment only lends credence to the ruse after. Kimble took his failure to get the message across pretty hard (and Mark thinking he'd actually give Dent up is a failure of trust to boot, but can you blame us with the way GCPD is?) plus he might have had more faith in Mark catching on than he expected himself to, which I can't blame Kimble for. But we're making some serious lemonade out of these lemons aren't we

>>6004512
I can imagine the three of them snickering like school kids despite the seriousness of the situation as the madman rages.

>>6004521
I want to apologize to Kimble once this blows over and we have all-clear. All of us anons fucking fell for it instead of trusting Kimble and picking up the subtlety, and so did Mark. Kimble deserves better than this shit even though we're improvising. He's feeling a bit better now that we're still alive and putting distance between us and Firebug, but I bet this will bother the guy after all this unless we talk about it.

But was it still a good thing? Could Firebug have seen through it if we did obey Kimble's ruse? With how staunch Mark Banks and Kimble were protecting Dent back in the first encounter outside the museum, Firebug might have questioned the out-of-character moment and connected the dots with Kimble's lines. I believe this guy is smart and perceptive enough to do that in that scenario, and then we'd be screwed as he turns that flamethrower on us with no reason to hold back. Right now his anger is clouding his judgement, and we need to maintain the ruse for it.

What do you think?

>>6004537
Apologise certainly but its not quite as bad as really thinking he'd abandon Dent. I certainly didnt think so. I actually thought it was a ruse from him to make Firebug drop his guard further, allowing us to quickdraw and magdump into him quickly.

And yes, firebug would have quickly seen through the ruse for lack for screaming Dent in the car when it goes up. But at that point I guess his plan would have been for us to hoof it and make tracks. We wouldnt have gotten far before he figured it out but he might also have been mad enough to come after us.

>>6004537
>>6004546
I don't think there's a need for big apology, Mark can just admit with a degree of humor that without shivers he's bad at picking up subtle hints.

>>6004411
+1 and holy shit that's awesome anon

>>6004346
>>6004363
>>6004405
>>6004407
>>6004411
>>6004413
>>6004572

I'll be a little late getting home so the update will come in about an hour(ish). I plan on running until 11am EST to get two posts out though.

We are locked in for Everything but the Kitchen Sink. See you guys in a bit.

>>6004537
>>6004546
>>6004558
Noted, by the way.

>>6004475
The curse has grazed me but I am still going strong, September is actually the one year mark, if the story ends up making it that long, so I'm curious to see where we are when that rolls around.

"We're heading down main street now, have the SWAT set up at the end, if he's in the air when we get to them it'll be like shooting skeet." You jerk your head to the others and start a light jog down the street as the rumbling of the turbine pack raises in volume. "Call for helicopters too, if he's flying we'll need a way to track him. Also some fire trucks, water cannons are probably gonna be necessary, does SWAT have armor piercing rounds?"

Your rambling is cut short by Kimble pulling the radio from your hands.
"Gray. Pull out all the stops, tell SWAT that I said it's a 5150, Code N. Name drop me."

"10-4, I'll see if any Pole jocks are feeling brave, Helicopter is taking off from Precinct 3 and should be there in ten."

"Copy, tell on-scene to keep an eye upwards."

He stuffs the radio into a pocket and gives you an apologetic glance.
"Sorry, boot, I'll give you a lesson on radio etiquette after this." He shifts a glance between you and Banks. "How's your cardio?"

"As good as it can be for being in the hospital for a few weeks."

He nods and looks over to you.

"Yours?"

"I stay in shape but I'm also fresh out of the hospital." You say sheepishly.

Kimble claps his hands and sighs contemplatively before the sound of highly focused and directed fire breaks his concentration.
"Fuck it. Keep up."

He turns on a heel and sets off at a decent pace down the street. You and Banks barely exchange a panicked glance before sprinting off after him. For a man so stocky Kimble is surprisingly speedy, keeping a decent length ahead of Banks and yourself. The whole time throwing out words of encouragement between breaths.

"It's just....until the end....of the street." He puffs. His head angles upwards and he swallows hard. "Don't turn around, just fucking run." He forces out in one breath before turning back forward and putting his head down.

You can't help your own morbid curiosity as you swivel your head to peek over your shoulder.

Outlined against the pale grey clouds of Gotham city is a winged beast of fire and black smoke. You blink and see...yourself through red tinted goggles, your breath hot and heavy as it leaves streaks of spittle running down the glass, all over your body you feel a gentle cooling breeze. As the visage of yourself begins to grow larger you blink again; this time watching the approaching shadow, the feeling of something long and rigid being shoved into your ribs keeps you focused. Banks continues moving using his shotgun to force you forward. You shake your head and he hollers over the noise.
"No spacing out!" you nod and continue unaided. You glance down the street and it feels as if no progress has been made despite you having started your run nearly two minutes ago.

The further you get down the road, the further SWAT seems, and the closer Firebug seems to get. As the sounds of thrusters grow closer and closer you're sure that any moment now you'll be bathed in chemical fire. Your breathing falls out of sync and you swear you can feel the growing heat of his turbine pack on the back of your neck but you don't dare to look and sacrifice any more of the lead you've been given. But the lead my not have been enough, any moment now you're going to fry. That final thought feels different, inserted, like the one you felt in the alleyway of the Prank Shop. But it lingers, and it tells you: you're dead.

Any second now...

>Throw yourself backwards and curl up. If he's aiming for you, reversing your direction and his acceleration will lead him straight past you.
>Ignore the feelings of fright and charge ahead, let your fear power your legs.
>Break into a zigzag, if he does want to fire at you then you won't make it easy, this will gas you out quickly but it's better than being burnt to a crisp.
>Ignore the feelings, this is Shivers or the Tumor or something else messing with you. Just keep your same pace and you'll make it.
>Call out for Banks and Kimble, if he's lining up a shot on you then he may just be flying steady enough to catch another shot himself.
>Write-In

>>6005653
>Ignore the feelings of fright and charge ahead, let your fear power your legs.
Nowhere to go but the end of the street. The quicker we do that, the quicker he takes his eyes off us.

>>6005653
>Ignore the feelings of fright and charge ahead, let your fear power your legs.

No hesitation now, keep going!

>>6005653
>Ignore the feelings of fright and charge ahead, let your fear power your legs.
Maximum adrenaline. Push past your limits even if it tears up your muscles. No time to slow.

>>6005653
>Ignore the feelings of fright and charge ahead, let your fear power your legs.
Go go go!

Rolled 82, 47, 3, 88, 11, 8 = 239 (6d100)

>>6005657
>>6005691
>>6005694
>>6005710

>Please give me 3d100 for dead sprinting. Middle of 3 due to average for an officer stamina.

I'll be rolling for Banks and Kimble but keeping their (Blank) of Three status to myself.

Rolled 71, 29, 59 = 159 (3d100)

>>6005737
>2 rolls each 80+
>2 rolls each -10
Hoo boy, this'll be tense

Rolled 89, 98, 1 = 188 (3d100)

>>6005737

Rolled 75, 23, 93 = 191 (3d100)

>>6005737
Here's hoping the nat 1 doesn't turbofuck us.

>>6005739
>>6005742
>>6005749

I meant to say 3 1d100 rolls (long night) but I can just take the first roll off each of you for a Middle of 75. Turbofucking has been postponed.

ROLLS:

MARK - Mo3 - 75
DC: 55
RESULT: PASS

BANKS - Mo3 - 47
DC: 45
RESULT: PASS

KIMBLE - Bo3 - 88
DC: 45
RESULT: PASS

Writing, then it's off to bed for me.

>>6005753
I am so very joyful
>>6005756
VERY joyful

Rolled 27, 78, 83 = 188 (3d100)

The more you think about it. The less you want to. The doctor, Shivers, your own self monologue. It keeps piling in your head like clutter, distracting you from the reality of your situation. The reality that you need to worry only about running.

You feel your thighs begin to burn as you pump your arms rapidly, you feel your limbs slipping into the form taught at the academy, the exact method they drilled into you every day you spent there. You stop thinking and just let your body do the work you engrained in it, no thoughts just the focus on your ragged breath which you wrangle back into submission, your side forms a pinpoint of tight pain. You pass by Banks who's struggling in his own right with the added weight of his weapon, but you don't slow down, the growing pain in your side is only an issue of endurance. Right now you need speed.

A wild spray of burning globs raining around you give that sentiment even more credence. As you hear a spluttering and sucking noise from above, with it come baseball sized balls of burning fuel. Instead of the smooth whoosh of his flamethrower now sounds like someone finishing a drink through a straw. You don't look a gift horse in the mouth, as splatterings of chemical fire land to your sides it's only candle sized flames that manage to get into your path. Ahead of you Kimble whips off his hat and chucks it away as a hand sized layer of fire seeps over it. You grit your teeth and push harder, your calves feel swollen and tight from top to bottom, each breath surges the sharp pain now engulfing your stomach and ribs. But as you reach the end of the street and turn the only corner you see something that makes you forget all of the pain.

Two black tactical vans and a long fire engine, wide yellow hose connected to a nearby hydrant.

You smile through your sharp breath and put your head down and focus only on the end of the road. You feel a heat creeping along your arm and see a thin line of flame melting down the fabric, you pull the chest hard enough to break the buttons and cast it aside.

It's so close.

>roll me 1d100. I will be taking best of three.

Rolled 67 (1d100)

>>6005774
RUN NIGGA

Rolled 77 (1d100)

>>6005774

Rolled 95 (1d100)

>>6005774
https://youtube.com/watch?v=fjHGTeTtaac

>>6005787
noice

>>6003434
Just catching up now. Shit, I didn't even consider that Kble might be running a con.

>>6004411
Badass art!

>>6004475
>fantastical slurs
There's always 'troq', but don't say it around Starfire or Nightwing.

>>6005787
Hell yeah.

You think if we help put this guy behind bars, the chief’ll reimburse us for our dress uniforms?

>>6006005
Better chance of your injury being service related in the VA assessment.

>>6005776 - 67
>>6005778 - 77
>>6005787 - 95
Best of Three.

ROLL: 95
DC: 78 (Contested roll against Firebug)
RESULT: PASS!

Writing.

The smoldering Dress Jacket flutter aside into a smoking pile, you wave a hand desperately to the group ahead you see them waving back. Distantly you hear sound.

".... you!"

You don't waste breath on responding you just focus on pushing your cramped legs to their limits as you set off in a dead sprint for the line. Banks matches your pace, holding the shotgun only in one hand now as you both pant and huff. Ahead of you Kimble maintains his pace he had from the start, when you get out of this you need to ask for his routine. The words come more clearly, now you start to make out faces as you reach the end of the street.

"Why...Why aren't they shooting?" Banks gets out between ragged gasps. It doesn't take you long to realize the only reason they'd hold their fire was if shooting at Firebug was more dangerous than letting him get close. A cold realization grips you and the first coherent set of words reach your ears.

"RIGHT ABOVE YOU! RUN!" A female voice calls from the top of the fire truck.

Banks and yourself share a glance upwards and you find yourself staring down the barrel of Firebug's flamethrower, droplets of burning fuel drip from the end. He flies unsteadily and he wields the thrower with a single hand, his free hand grips a tube tightly. You narrow your eyes and Banks screams it out before you fully realize it.

"He's building pressure!"

You raise your eyebrows as you stare into a circle of tiny dancing orange dots. The sound of the jet is deafening but you swear in the back of your mind you hear a sound similar to old gas stoves.

click click click click....FWOOSH.

His hand goes loose as the built up fuel rushes into the waiting pilot lights, a geyser of fuel sprays forth dropping a pillar of fire on you from above, aided by gravity it's almost too fast to avoid. Almost.

You juke to the right and the fire follows, casting a wide arc across the road and leaving a wall of flame behind your heels. Banks veers left and continues down the street. His pressure can't last that long and at his speed now as long as you don't slow down the fire can't catch you. But a single slip, stumble, or hesitation means baptism in fire. You push, adrenaline flooding every cell, a new noise rises with the sound of the turbines and aerosolized fuel. Your own voice. Plowing ahead driven by primal instinct and girt you scream as you push yourself further than you thought possible. Every step brings new details to your eyes.

The lettering on SWAT trucks, the department number on the fire truck, the face of the woman who called to your earlier. Recognition sparks but your conscious mind is on vacation as you drive the final dozen feet you hear the familiar sputtering of Firebug's thrower losing pressure, and once again small blobs of fuel fall like burning snow. Your legs seize up and you find the ground rising to meet you rapidly, you take the fall as best you can and roll onto your back. You lift your chin and squeeze your eyes closed tight.

Just before they close you see his figure in the sky, cloaked in smog and smoke, lean back and begin slowing. He's going to try to run. Your burning lungs force out the last of your air to scream a message to the people behind you.

>"BLAST HIM WITH THE WATER CANNON!"
>"SHOOT HIM DOWN!"
>"GET THE HELICOPTERS!"
>Write-In

>>6006650
>"BLAST HIM WITH THE WATER CANNON!"

>>6006650
>>"SHOOT HIM DOWN!"

>>6006650
>"BLAST HIM WITH THE WATER CANNON!"
He better not blow himself up. Remember Kimble's bit about the IEDs
>For all we know that suit has IED's set to blow if he goes dark.

>>6006650
>>"BLAST HIM WITH THE WATER CANNON!"

>>6006650
>"BLAST HIM WITH THE WATER CANNON!"

>>6006650
>"BLAST HIM WITH THE WATER CANNON!"

>>6006650
>nobody’s taken the opportunity to become the 69th reply

Guess I’ll take it, then…

>"BLAST HIM WITH THE WATER CANNON!"

>>6006650
>"BLAST HIM WITH THE WATER CANNON!"
Oh neat, it'a that EMT from tge cop bar! Was hoping we'd see her again.

>>6007016
We gotta get this girl’s number this time around.

Even if Mark has the burn pit special in his head, he deserves something nice after all this.

>>6007282
>covered in soot and slightly singed hitting on a firefighter
It's more common than we think.

>>6007282
Not like you gotta' let everyone know about your tumor when you start casually dating them.

>>6007282
Eh, I’m hoping to get some strange from the Rogue’s Gallery. Kinda thinking some Lawful Good dickings might be a fun way to try to curb Gotham’s recidivism rate.

File: 4AD0F314-6B3B-4CCB-95B0-F(...).jpg (156 KB, 697x386)

156 KB JPG

>>6007310
Ah yes, more meta-based relationship trauma. Exactly what Mark needs.

>>6007319
I for one welcome Ivy just straight killing us because she's a psycho eco terrorist. Or Killer Frost freezing our dick off because she's a psychopath. Or Livewire turning us into charred turkey because you can't stick your dick into an electrical outlet goddammit.

>>6007282
Given the circumstances, I can totally see Mark trying something he otherwise wouldn't. When your days are numbered, you might as well make em good ones.

>>6007319
Way I see it, Mark’s gonna have to deal with the meta side eventually if he wants to have both his police job and his shivers. Might as well see if there’s a vigilante type who can respect our decision to go out into the fray instead of behind a desk. Plus, Bats is well known for plenty of relationships with attractive antiheroes of the other sex, enough to convince them to go legit.

Besides, there’s one or two villainesses out there who use tech and athleticism instead of powers. The Defacer, maybe? She’d be great with Caesar’s deaf pal.

>>6007342
Me personally, I'm all for hitting up Allison again and seeing what's good. If we're putting the cart ahead of the horse for a minute, I think she'd be more than understanding of the circumstances of Mark's work given she's in a similarly dangerous field.

>>6007342
>Mark’s gonna have to deal with the meta side eventually
Not if he just dies, I guess.

>>6007676
>men would literally rather die than go to (chemo) therapy

>>6007342
>Might as well see if there’s a vigilante type who can respect our decision to go out into the fray instead of behind a desk.

My brother in Christ you just described Nia. No way in hell is Mark stepping on that 3rd rail again.

>>6007873
…But she didn’t respect it? Pretty sure I remember that she wanted him to take a more passive role as an Oracle type.

Hey guys, apologies but I'm gonna push the next update until tonight.

Until then though I would love to hear:
>What part of the story intrigues you the most?

Is it the SIM mystery? The strange visions Mark receives? Or do you just like reading Cop banter? Let me know and I'll be back tonight to..
>>6006652
>>6006700
>>6006712
>>6006713
>>6006734
>>6006990
>>6007016

BLAST HIM WITH THE WATER CANNON!

I also knew it was only a matter of time until the waifu talks began lol

>>6007884
Oh, and never mentioning that she was a meta to us until we saw the leotard in the hamper. That’s a big, big thing. Which we should have to get out of the way immediately if we do pursue Allison to not be a hypocrite, along with the tumor.

>>6007892
I like the SIM mystery, foils are my weaknesses.

>>6007892
The street to city level crime stuff, definitely. While I do want to eventually get into the bigger bits of the DC universe, I’d like to imagine an epilogue that has Mark either going back to detective work, or if the tumor gets us in the end, taking the job over from the current spiritual representation of Gotham City and helping out a newly minted Shiver Meta with taking down crime.

>>6007884
The offer for a role in the Justice League only came after the combat with Firebug. It could have just been her giving Mark a “safer” job to ease her own nerves on the situation.

If I remember right she supported Mark becoming a cop through college and wanted to keep all of the meta shenanigans away from him. I guess she just didn’t put it together at the time that cops get shot at.

>>6007927
I think she admitted last time she invaded Mark's dreams that she never wanted him to be a cop and pretty much always planned to try and get him into a passive role in the JLA.

>>6007892

"BLAST HIM WITH THE WATER CANNON!" You holler, your throat going raw and scratchy from the haggard breaths.

What you hear next is a massive sputtering and the sound of rain hitting a car roof amplified a few times over. From the ground you're misted aggressively as a white rushing jet of water fires far above your head and slams into Firebug like a liquid linebacker. You feel a great pressure in your stomach and struggle to catch your own breath as you watch his winged form spiral backwards, his jets struggling against the pure amount of water that's colliding with him and seeping into every bit of his equipment.

His body falls from the air, a tangled mess of dark suit and white displaced water, his limbs flail as he pumps more and more power into his jets only to collide with the ground. The water slows to a stream and then a dribble and in the haze and mist you see rainbows forming up the street. He lies there completely still apart from his hand which only opens and closes slowly. A low groaning coming from him means he isn't dead but as you rise from your own prone position you stay vigilant.

A rush of footsteps behind you make you whip around only to be passed completely by SWAT, rifles at the ready, and a group of Firefighters who also rush up throwing a towel over your damp body. A hand grips your shoulder firmly and you turn your head to see a familiar face.

"I thought I recognized your voice." You say with a relieved smile. "Thanks for the save."

Allison smiles back nods.
"Don't thank me too soon, the water in those city pipes is...questionable."

You look down and do notice your white shirt is a shade more brown than before in it's damp spots.
"Oh. Well it's better than the alternative."

"You'll still probably want to shower." She laughs to herself.

You both look at each other for a moment before another sound draws your attention. A long drawn out scream of pure rage.

"HARVEY!" Firebug roars.

You approach with Allison, making sure to keep her behind you and to keep a hand on your pistol. SWAT stands a safe distance away, posted behind cars on either side of the road. For the first time you get a clear look at Firebug after his fall and it isn't pretty. His right leg is contorted and backwards at an odd angle, spiderweb cracks run along his goggles, and the breathing from his mask comes out crackling from the water logging it just endured. His thrower lies a few feet from him only tethered by the fuel line, it's pilot light long since extinguished. He groans and squirms but his leg prevents him from going more than a few inches, he screams constantly with any movements until he eventually gives in and just lies down on the asphalt, his crackling breath going steady.

You see Kimble approach from down the street with a blanket of his in hand as he dabs the sweat from his head, he beelines for the SWAT line and begins talking quietly with the commander.

You turn to Allison and open your mouth but she holds up a hand preemptively.

"I'll get back to the truck, might need that hose again."

You close your mouth and just nod, she gives you a smile and steps backwards back to her squadron. You wipe your face with the rough blanket and are surprised to feel how warm it is despite the water dripping down constantly.

You approach Kimble and his SWAT contact as they speak into a radio.

"What's the situation? Why aren't we taking him in?"

"Because it may not even be an option. Your TO is telling me he may be rigged?" A gruff man whispers to you firmly.

"We don't know. He's former military and we've run into IED's from him before but we don't know anything about his suit."

"Well then we need to wait for bomb squad."

"I'm telling you, Hall. That isn't gonna fly. This guy is dedicated to getting to Dent, if we wait here for him to dry out then he'll be turning that flamethrower on us before they get approval to even come out."

"Then we shoot him." Hall replies confidently.

"And set off the incendiary you think could be in his suit?" You ask, more than a little shocked at the attitude of a SWAT commander.

"My job is not to take risks until I'm forced too, son. If he's set to blow then we hold position and wait for the bomb squad. If he wants to get frisky before then I have about 30 reasons it won't work in his favor and if he's smart he'll recognize that."

"Hall you aren't hearing me, he's not thinking right especially after taking a drop like that. We can bring him in, he could bust our case."

"Your case isn't my responsibility, Kimble. It's the lives of my men and you KNOW that. So unless you have a solution, this is my show now. You're dismissed."

Kimble opens his mouth to protest again but a sharp look from Hall makes him grit his teeth.
"Yeah. Alright." He manages to get out before turning and nudging your shoulder. "Let's go, DeLucia. This isn't our scene."

You look to Firebug and watch as he slowly flexes his fingers, one by one methodically, before starting to slowly open and close his fist. Testing his mobility.

>"What if I could get him out of the suit? Let me talk with him, I've talked him down before."
>"I'll do it. Give me the cuffs, I'll put em on myself, bomb squad can check him over before we take him in."
>"Yes, Sir."
>"Is this why Hawthorne left SWAT? Too cowardly to approach a man with a broken leg and no weapon?"
>Write-In

>>6008905
>"What if I could get him out of the suit? Let me talk with him, I've talked him down before."

>>6008905
>"I'll do it. Give me the cuffs, I'll put em on myself, bomb squad can check him over before we take him in."
We have supernatural brain cancer anyways. Besides I neither want to risk the SWAT guys lives or let them just put the poor bastard down. And I can't imagine he's in the mood for diplomacy.

>>6008905
>>"I'll do it. Give me the cuffs, I'll put em on myself, bomb squad can check him over before we take him in."

>>6008905
>"I'll do it. Give me the cuffs, I'll put em on myself, bomb squad can check him over before we take him in."

If for no other reason than to make Mark look really cool in front of Allison.

That and I CANNOT stomach the idea of this goober getting away again.

>>6008905
>"I'll do it. Give me the cuffs, I'll put em on myself, bomb squad can check him over before we take him in."
Man SWAT kinda suck here

>>6008994
TBF swat in gotham will get called on everything from Joker to Bane. I cant fault them for trying to keep their guys alive when their turnover must be pretty high compared to other cities.

>>6008905
>"I'll do it. Give me the cuffs, I'll put em on myself, bomb squad can check him over before we take him in."

>>6008905
>>"Is this why Hawthorne left SWAT? Too cowardly to approach a man with a broken leg and no weapon?"

>>6008905
>"I'll do it. Give me the cuffs, I'll put em on myself, bomb squad can check him over before we take him in."
We have a tumor anyway. Not a lot to lose, maybe. Also, we have Shivers, which we can try to use here.

>>6008905
>>"I'll do it. Give me the cuffs, I'll put em on myself, bomb squad can check him over before we take him in."
you only live once right

>>6010530
>laughs in the hero dying and reviving of the week

>>6008915
>>6008950
>>6008989
>>6008994
>>6009045
>>6010506
>>6010530

"I'll do it, Give me the cuffs, I'll put em on myself, bomb squad can still take a look at him before we take him in." You say quietly, casting glances at Firebug as he now slowly lifts and lowers his forearm.

"Is this guy serious?" Hall asks Kimble. Kimble replies with an exasperated sigh and a shrug.

"Look, I don't want to risk your men either. But right now he is still dazed enough that we could at least stop him from hurting anyone else during the wait.

Hall scoffs and turns his head from you, not even humoring you with a response. This isn't working, you need to step it up.

You step closer and lower your voice but increase the intensity of your words.
"This guy has already gotten away from us once. We JUST pulled off a sting that took weeks of prep work and only just barely, the thought of him getting away AGAIN makes me sick to my stomach."

Kimble picks up on your words and leans into your hardball approach.
"Hall, think about it. The Mayor makes a speech about how Gotham is finally getting safer, then he's attacked, and then our SWAT team lets him get away because they needed to be sure he wouldn't set himself on fire? This is gonna embarrass your entire unit and when it comes time for Dent to finalize his restructuring of GCPD, who's to say the guys who let his assassin have a chance at taking a third round with him won't be on the chopping block first?"

Hall looks into Kimble's eyes with a hardened glare, he shifts them to you but you've long since become accustomed to such a gaze. He sucks his teeth and shakes his head.

"You really found someone just like you Kimble."

"Not really, sir. He's the brains."

"And you trust him on this? It's his ass if anything goes wrong."

Kimble looks to you and it's almost like you can see it reflected in his eyes. All of your interactions flashing by in a moment like a slideshow on fast forward. In your own head you can even hear yourself. You don't let your expression show it but inside you're a little worried, Shivers has never done anything like this before. It culminates with Kimble giving a firm nod.
"Yeah, I trust him. It's why I'm going in too."

You open your mouth to protest but he speaks over you.
"I have a spare set of cuffs, getting his hands and feet will be better overall, I'm sure this guy isn't in the cooperating mood after dropping like a sack of shit."

Hall shakes his head.
"If anyone ever asks then, you rushed in before I established chain of command. This makes us square, Kimble."

Kimble extends a hand and has it clasped tightly.
"Yes, it does. Thank you, Sir."

"For what, Officer Kimble? I just arrived." Hall replies sarcastically before turning away and leaning into his shoulder radio.

Kimble doesn't wait for you before setting off towards Firebug at a brisk jog, you sigh and force yourself to ignore the sharp pains in your leg as you join him.

You both approach the pile of man that lies in the center of the street, small puddles of burning fire still surround the area and you see a small stream of liquid leaking from his back, around the hose Banks must have nicked. Kimble pulls out a set of cuffs from his pocket, probably off of a security guard from the event, you dig into the borrowed duty belt and withdraw your own pair. As you both approach you hear muffled groans and words.

"...assholes, you think? You think this means I'm not gonna get at Dent?"

Kimble looks at you sideways and begins taking a wide circle around Firebug until he's positioned behind him.

"Look at you two...fucking puppets. Lap dogs."

Kimble looks at you and nods, you don't need to speak to understand his plan.

You both walk in quickly with cuffs open and grab him. Kimble grabs both ankles and yanks his legs straight, causing a cacophony of agonized screams as, you can only assume, whatever break he has gets worse. You have to put a little elbow grease into keeping his arms restrained, the entire time you make sure to kneel with your knee clamping down the hose of his Flamethrower, you can feel him slowly regaining his strength and trying to fight back but in his current condition he's not strong enough to push you away before Kimble slaps both ankles in chrome and moves to help you.

"I'll kill you, all three of you. I'll remember your fucking faces and burn your homes to the ground!" He roars from inside the helmet, leading to a harsh hacking cough that continues as the strength in his arms fade. He wheezes for breath as Kimble helps you flip him to his stomach. You take your cuffs and go to slap them on.

>Just get the cuffs on and run, he's furious right now and if he has any way of striking back he will. Better be safe.
>Cuff him and get that mask off, you can only imagine how hard it is to breath for him right now, there's no reason to be cruel you've already won.
>Cuff him and get the suit off, this suit could very well be a weapon. You know Kimble always carries a blade, maybe you can cut it off?
>Cuff him and speak to him, this will probably be the only time you'll be able to meaningfully interrogate this guy, once he's booked ARGUS could pick it up or Dent could assign his own investigator.
>Write-In

>>6010800
>Just get the cuffs on and run, he's furious right now and if he has any way of striking back he will. Better be safe.

>>6010800
>Just get the cuffs on and run, he's furious right now and if he has any way of striking back he will. Better be safe.
We have no business continuing with this guy other than the IEDs and his connection to Calc

>>6010800
>>Just get the cuffs on and run, he's furious right now and if he has any way of striking back he will. Better be safe.

>>6010800
>>Just get the cuffs on and run, he's furious right now and if he has any way of striking back he will. Better be safe.

We’ve pushed our luck enough already.

>>6010800
>>Cuff him and speak to him, this will probably be the only time you'll be able to meaningfully interrogate this guy, once he's booked ARGUS could pick it up or Dent could assign his own investigator.

>>6010800
>>Cuff him and speak to him, this will probably be the only time you'll be able to meaningfully interrogate this guy, once he's booked ARGUS could pick it up or Dent could assign his own investigator.

>>6010800
>Cuff him and speak to him, this will probably be the only time you'll be able to meaningfully interrogate this guy, once he's booked ARGUS could pick it up or Dent could assign his own investigator.

>>6010906
We're in a comic book. If there's a time to have a comic book talking moment, this is it.

Practically its a retarded idea.

Comic wise, this is the best chance to be a "great cop".

In his hate, he didn't realize Dent was long gone. He may want us dead, but we don't want him dead. Also we can straight up tell him we were not the one on that stage today, and that's for a reason. We're not a lapdog looking for rewards.

If Dent is dirty, he's going down just like anyone else as far as we're concerned.

>>6010800
>>6010829
>>Cuff him and speak to him, this will probably be the only time you'll be able to meaningfully interrogate this guy, once he's booked ARGUS could pick it up or Dent could assign his own investigator.
Awwwww fuck it, changing to this. There's really no reason not to ask him a few questions at this point.

>>6010800
Changing vote from >>6010830 to
>Cuff him and speak to him, this will probably be the only time you'll be able to meaningfully interrogate this guy, once he's booked ARGUS could pick it up or Dent could assign his own investigator.
What >>6010976 said

>>6010800
>>Just get the cuffs on and run, he's furious right now and if he has any way of striking back he will. Better be safe.

>>6010800
>Cuff him and speak to him, this will probably be the only time you'll be able to meaningfully interrogate this guy, once he's booked ARGUS could pick it up or Dent could assign his own investigator.

>>6010800
>>>Cuff him and speak to him, this will probably be the only time you'll be able to meaningfully interrogate this guy, once he's booked ARGUS could pick it up or Dent could assign his own investigator.

>>6010918
>>6010949
>>6010975
>>6010977
>>6010992
>>6011058
>>6011830

You click the cuffs and haul his wriggling body until he's facing you.

"I have questions." You start before a hand hits your shoulder.

"Are you insane? We've pushed our luck enough." Kimble tells you with serious look.

"Normally I'd agree but Dent isn't going to want this guy to talk to anyone. Odds are he passes him off to ARGUS or ships him straight to Arkham."

Firebug thrashes and spits through his mask.
"I bet you'd like that, pig. A commendation on your chest and a pet on the head for keeping Daddy Dent's dirty laundry a secret."

Kimble's hand pulls off your shoulder and you see it now, from that sentence alone, his curiosity is piqued.
"Dent's dirty laundry? What are you talking about, Bug?"

"Ask your friend."

Kimble's eyes turn to you but you stay focused on the moment at hand.
"Hey. You notice how I was the only one out of those three who wasn't on that stage today?"

"What about it, sad you didn't get your treat?"

"Are you listening to yourself? Look past how bad you hate Dent for a second and think. If I was Dent's lackey I'd have been first in line, but you know I know the truth."

"The truth?" Kimble echoes confused, but he maintains his silence otherwise.

Firebug stops his fidgeting in your hands and his breathing slows until it becomes a raspy laugh.
"He fucked you too..ha...haha...old habits die hard, Harvard."

"I didn't play ball with him when he tried to buy my silence, Kimble and Banks? They had no idea, far as they knew this was nothing more but a dog and pony show."

"Congratulations, Officer. You knew he was a sack of shit and saved him anyways."

"Yeah he's an asshole but I need to know if there's more to it than that."

Kimble finally chimes in.
"Are you saying Dent might be dirty?"

"As an afghan latrine." Firebug says, he finally seems somewhat calm.

Distant sirens screaming draw your attention and Kimble mutters a curse.

"Bomb Squad." He tells you.

If you're going to ask questions now is the time.

[You get two questions before you'll have to fall back to the SWAT line.]

>What is Calc planning?
>Why is Calc targeting Dent?
>Why is Calc targeting Bruce Wayne?
>Do you have any evidence on Dent being dirty? Something actionable.
>Write-In Question (Recommended)

>>6011866
>Do you have any evidence on Dent being dirty? Something actionable.
FUCK DENT, I HATE DENT, LET'S RUIN HIS LIFE.
>Cobblepot and Mandragora were working with Calc, are there any other big names working with him?

>>6011883
+1
We need leads on Calc too. He's got so much freedom now with the sting succeeded

>>6011866
>>6011883
+1, because I'm a little lost on the big plotline, and this seems reasonable.

Firebug builds the IEDs for Calc, right? The black boxes? And is also trying to kill Dent on the side, but not for Calc, for a persinal grudge. So if we signal to him that we can dig into Dent he could maybe rat out Calc?

>>6011883
+1

Let’s put a dent in Dent’s ego.

>>6011883
+1, coin flipping dent

>>6011901
Even if we don't use the info against Dent, baiting Firebug to talk and drop facts on Calc is a big step forward against the mysteries going on. But what I'm wondering is what will SIM do now that Mandragora is arrested?

>>6011866
>Why is Calc targeting Dent?
>Do you have any evidence on Dent being dirty? Something actionable.

>>6011883
Our power is talking to the city right?

Simply knowing a location and having a piece of evidence can let us do a lot more than the average person

Our power is a matter of public record.

Might be good to ask him if he has something we can work with that way.

Also in other news, where's batman atm?

>>6011866
Write in question being recommended makes me wonder what I'm missing here

There has to be something firebug could be in the know of.

Dunno if Calc is targeting Dent. It's probably Bruce Wayne if he's not providing additional support to firebug.

The nature of the buildings being bought? The plan to "go legit" with real estate for crime bosses?
What's missing that's relevant? Man should have nothing to do with SIM.

We could try holding his hand and deep diving his connection with the city?

>>6012116
I guess we can ask him to take off his suit and ride in our car before bomb squad and dents people have an excuse to separate us.

We did make the extra effort to had over here vs letting swat take him. There's a reason for that.


Maybe he has an idea who the mole is??

>>6011883
supporting

>>6011866
>Do you have any evidence on Dent being dirty? Something actionable.
>What is Calc planning?

Very sorry guys, bad morning. Postponing the update to tonight, please feel free to continue suggesting things for the questioning.

>>6013045
Thanks for the heads up, QM. Take your time, we'll be here!

Finally fucking caught up.
This is some really good shit.

>>6011883
>>6011899
>>6011901
>>6011926
>>6011929
>>6012192

"Dent, you say he's dirty but I need proof. Do you have any evidence, anything actionable?"

You hear a broken scoff through the helmet's speaker.
"You know for yourself what he did to me, to my family, aren't the police supposed to look into that shit? You want evidence? You want to lock him up? Then go find it, because I don't want Harvey in a cell. I want him in the ground."

"What the fuck did Harvey do to this guy, DeLucia?" Kimble asks, his eyebrows drawn tightly in confusion.

"I'll tell you later." You rush over your shoulder before turning back. The red and blue lights shining off the windows down the street mean your time is up. "Cobblepot and Mandragora were working with Calc, who else does he have? What big names did you hear?"

A raspy laugh comes out.
"I keep to myself, always have. This wasn't a social club, Met-Brain, everyone was there because they wanted something and Calc promised he could help them get it. Guess in my case he bit off a little more than he could chew."

You shake your head and give him a rattle, he groans in response.
"You have to have heard something. Anything. If we clear this Calc business up then Harvey can be next." You pull him close and whisper into the side of his mask. "And how long is a former prosecutor going to last on the inside? Think about it."

A few moments of silence pass. The sirens grow louder, you start to feel their sharp notes probe your eardrum. A hand on your shoulder gives you the signal from Kimble. Time's up. Frustrated you let Firebug go and begin to rise, only to freeze when you hear the speaker of his mask crackle to life.
"Jervis. Anarky wants Wayne and I was promised Dent. But Calc would talk about someone named Jervis, that Arkham break-out was for him. Not the medic."

You freeze as your brain goes into analyzing his words trying to put together this pile of new pieces presented to it. Kimble pulls your by your collar away from Firebug who calls after you in that same static filled rasp.
"Do your job, Officer. Put Dent away."

You and Kimble get away from him by the time the trucks come speeding in, you shuffle off to a curb and both drop down, Kimble quietly contemplating something and you in your own head mulling over this new information.

Your train of thought and the silence between you is broken by Kimble quietly asking you a question.

"Do you not trust me?"

"Sorry?"

"I asked if you trust me or not."

"Of course I trust you, Kimble. Is this because of what Firebug said?"

He shakes his head and scoffs.
"More than that. You really thought I was willing to let Dent burn. You wouldn't have taken that wild shot at him if you didn't think so."

"What? No it was just, you know maybe I'm only good at reading people when I'm using my Shivers." You chuckle but Kimble's face remains melancholy. "Hey, I'm sorry. I had a really fucked morning and it's just messed with my head a little bit is all. I wasn't all there this morning."

"Seemed fine after the fact, playing off like Dent was really in the car. So I guess it doesn't matter all that much. But what does matter is that you never told me you knew Dent had a history with this guy. You never mentioned to me that Dent might be dirty or that he was playing hardball with you, none of that."

You go to answer but there isn't really anything to say, at least that you can think of.

"You come back to the station after a day out with Hawthorne and you can draw maps with your mind? Hawthorne and Gray don't bat an eye but I feel like the odd man out. So is it trust?"

>How do you respond?

>>6013320
Thanks for the kind words, Anon. Hope you continue to enjoy.

>>6013709
>"It's me dropping the ball is what it is. You should be kept in the loop, same as Gray, Hawthorne, or anybody I work with. I'm sorry I didn't live up to that standard, but I'm gonna try moving forward."

>>6013680
>Jervis Tetch: Mad Hatter
Ah fuck. That guy's technology always bodes ill, despite what a goofy little shit he is.

>>6013709
>"I get self-conscious about my abilities, even now. They're a sore spot and it's tough to let people in about them."
>"As for Dent, I didn't want to drag anyone else's career down with mine, fi he made it a whole 'thing'."
>"But about thinking you'd let Dent burn... That was me being untrusting. And It was wrong of me. I was being an idiot, and I get that now. I was wrong, and I promise I'll trust you more moving forward."

>>6013731
+1

>>6013709
>Despite my powers being right most of the time, saying that you seen a guy being durty in a vision in your head is so easily brushed off. We've had more things to worry about when I saw Dent's convo with a firebug, so I shelved the info for the time being.
I don't remember if we even told anyone about this at all. If we didn't, inform him. He's not really left out.
>As for Dent not really being in the car, I think I just went full retard for a moment, sorry. I was thinking more about viable gun calibers for putting him down, than mind games.

>>6013903
Kind of interesting to see that we disarmed a scared guy without starting a firefight back on some gas station(by using shivers and understading how scared he is), but with firebug, most players, including me, didn't even think about playing mind games, just how to kill him.

>>6013959
Because when shit gets real, 99.99% of people aren't going to try and employ mind-games. If anything, it just speaks to Kimbles experience and our relative lack thereof.

>>6013731
>>6013743
>>6013796
>>6013903
>>6013959
>>6013970
We're pretty disorganized on this. What do we go with? Looking back, most of us voting to shoot Firebug were fixed on "protect and serve". We all unilaterally fell for it

>>6014036
Hey man, can you blame an idealistic rookie for acting like one?

>>6014043
Not much idealistic about distrusting Kimble, is there? I think we need a genuine apology plus getting him in the loop on Dent

>>6014044
>Not much idealistic about distrusting Kimble, is there?
That's where the "rookie" part comes in.
>I think we need a genuine apology plus getting him in the loop on Dent
I agree. It might not solve every issue right away, but it's a damn good start.

>>6013709
>All I have on Dent is a vision. No physical evidence and definitely nothing that would give probable cause for an investigation. And that was enough for Dent to start turning the screws on me, just the mere SUSPICION that I might have seen something. If I had told you, or Banks, or Hawthorn, or ANYONE, it would have just gotten you in trouble with nothing to gain.

>So with all of that in mind, do you still want to know?

If yes:
>Then what do you suggest we do about it? Because I’m at a loss here.

>>6014109
>begin by apologizing that you think he was going to let Dent get incinerated

I forgot to add this at the beginning. We need to do some kowtowing here.

>>6014116
>>6014109
These are good, +1

>>6014116
I thought it was just a ruse to drop his guard combined with dent not being there.

If he torched the car, the lack of screaming would clue him in fast

Not sharing the dent situation is more a matter of minimizing fallout. We have only a vision, no evidence. Dent tried threatening us anyway. We only hinted it to Banks, not the details.

>>6013709
>>How do you respond?
"I'm sorry. I *know* that you'd never abandon your charge in something like this. So I thought that it was a ruse. A ruse to get the drop on him.

Dent's issue, I was the only one privy to it and I didnt want anyone else or the department to get dragged down with me. If he has his eye on me, the rest of the dept can do the work the need to do free of any interference. I'll come clean with it all, I promise."

>>6014183
One conspiracy at a time. Banks isn't on sim, or the crime families but he's on dent.

Too many conspiracies and someone might mess up, like we do

Update will be coming at a normal tome tonight (in a few hours) I just really wanted to get that one out yesterday early to repay having to put it off in the first place.

Please continue to vote and post.
>>6014036
Vote swaps are also totally fine if you want to back a specific answer, but I will pull from most if not all write-ins.

>>6013731
>>6013796
>>6013903
>>6014109
>>6014123
>>6014183

"I'm sorry." You start with that up-front. The bluntness of a straight apology makes Kimble's eyebrows raise. "I dropped the ball, thinking you'd let Dent burn was me not trusting you and it was wrong. I was being an idiot, I get that now and I promise I'm going to trust you more going forward, including keeping you in the loop just the same as Hawthorne and Gray."

Kimble digests what you said and nods.
"And about the powers?"

You sigh and feel your cheeks grow warm.
"I get self conscious about my abilities, even now. It can be a sore spot for me and it's hard to let people know about that kinda stuff. I'm used to the looks but it's different when it's strangers vs friends."

Kimble has a shadow of guilt cross his face and he nods.
"I'm sorry if I ever did that to you. I know the feeling, in a way."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, people look at you expecting to see one thing. Knowing one thing. Then you do something or say something and all of a sudden it's.."

"It's like they don't know you anymore." You say.

"like their scared of you." Kimble mutters in unison.

You both look at each other and Kimble coughs awkwardly.
"That just leaves Dent. His history with that guy."

"I saw something when we first ran into Firebug, one of my visions, but it wasn't about something happening in Gotham now. It was something that HAD happened."

"Holy shit, like time travel?"

"I guess? But it was more like watching someone's memory in real time, I could even FEEL everything Dent felt. There was an argument between them and Dent threw a bottle, a fire started...it was an accident.."

"Jesus Christ..." Kimble mutters. "You covered up for an arson? With casualties?"

"My power might be right most of the time but seeing a guy had a dirty past in my head is gonna get brushed off by anyone in the courts, come on now."

Kimble scoffs.
"I can hear it now 'Are we admitting dreams into evidence now?' he'd be right at home defending himself....but you're certain?"

"I saw what I saw and Shivers hasn't lied to me yet. I just figured that if I could keep Dent's eye on me instead of the department it would be better for everyone."

"Best tip I ever got, boot? Don't be a martyr. You're in a team so we need to handle this shit as a team. It ain't Dent versus you, not anymore."

Kimble holds out a fist to you.
"As long as you promise to play straight with me. No more secrets. I have your back all the way. Deal?"

>Tap his knuckles with yours. "Deal, no more secrets." (Lie)
>"Some secrets aren't mine to share, Kimble. You just have to trust me."
>"There won't be anymore secrets...after this." (Let him in on the SIM Situation)
>Write-In

>>6015141
>"There won't be anymore secrets...after this." (Let him in on the SIM Situation)
I'm pretty confident that he isn't the mole, it should be safe to let him in on this.

>>6015141
>"There won't be anymore secrets...after this." (Let him in on the SIM Situation)

>>6015141
>"There won't be anymore secrets...after this." (Let him in on the SIM Situation)
We need Hawthorne with us first

>>6015141
>>"Some secrets aren't mine to share, Kimble. You just have to trust me."

>"There won't be anymore secrets...after this." (Let him in on the SIM Situation)

Straight as an arrow. But then again in this universe arrows can go up and down and all around

Finally got the chance to catch up on a car trip. Great quest, filled the void since henchmen quest is on ice.

Rip axis, may that man kneecap people heaven

>>6015141
>"Some secrets aren't mine to share, Kimble. You just have to trust me."

Let him know Banks is slightly in on the know already, but not to what extent.

But yeah, some secrets are for other people to divulge. We can let him in on some SIM stuff, but not everything. Nobody needs to know details of Hawthorne struggles let alone that he almost killed in cold blood

>>6015141
>>6015141
>"Some secrets aren't mine to share, Kimble. You just have to trust me."
Though I'd like to phrase it a bit more diplomatically. "I'll share my own stuff, but I can't spill the beans if someone else asks me not to. Not wothout asking."

But... We should probably also
>Tell him about SIM, and the tumor
Just not Hawthorne, Q, or Huntress just yet.

>>6015141
>"Some secrets aren't mine to share, Kimble. But I'd be glad to share with you my own."
Basically saying "I'm fine with telling you my problems with SIM and the tumor, but other people deserve to be the ones to tell you theirs. Same goes for you. If you have a thing you need to get off your chest, but only for a few people, I'm here to listen if you want me to."

>>6015141
>"Some secrets aren't mine to share, Kimble. But I will share the work and case related ones."
>"Sometimes my power lets me dig through people's heads. Like letting me take a look through Dent's memories in that alleyway standoff. Some of those things are vital to police work, and I'll share them. Some are not."
>Tell him about the SIM.

Hate keeping secrest from teammates, but we somehow ended tangled up in so much shit in just 7 threads. How many plots do we even have going on right now? SIM, Firebug/Dent and Calc? And before the big bust we also had the "Q and Hawthorne vs Mandargora" thread running. Gotham sure never sleeps.

Actually, you guys remember that vision we had while out cold? Some pitiful thing hiding in the closet? What the hell was that even about? Do we tell anyone?

>>6015141
I voted >>6015164 on mobile
I want to add that shit in >>6015474 and >>6015496 and >>6015504 to it
So yes to SIM, yes to tumor, no to Q/Huntress, no to Hawthorne, and no to Mandragora.

>>6015264
>henchman quest is on ice

Nigga it dead. The QM shot himself with a 38.
I guess to some extent it reflected his own desire to die

>>6015816
Are DC quests more or less cursed than other quests do y'all think?

>>6017980
>>6018009
I'm onto you, DetectQM...

>>6018012
Must be a different DetectQM, cause I would never...

>>6015148
>>6015153
>>6015164
>>6015264
>>6015474
>>6015496
>>6015504
>>6015780

"Some secrets aren't mine to tell.." You start nervously. To your surprise Kimble nods his head.

"Hawthorne, Gray, whoever else. I'm not worried about them, I just need to know when it comes to it we trust each other and we're on the same page. I know better than others about how important keeping some secrets can be, if I wanted to hear from them I'd ask."

"Understood." You say softly, your head buzzing and your heart speeding back up. You and Kimble both rise from the sidewalk and begin a long walk down the road you had just sprinted up for a private conversation. A blanket of cold falls over you as you fill Kimble in on everything that's happened to you.

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

"Fuck, kid." He mutters, his eyes distant and his hand pressed firmly against his forehead. "You've been sitting on all that for almost two months now?"

"Just learned about the tumor this morning actually."

He laughs in disbelief and shakes his head.
"When I first saw you, I won't lie. I thought you were a little soft, figured Hawthorne would wash you out. Instead he ends up joining your black op side project."

"It's really complicated.." You're cut off by a hand.

"A dangerous man backed you into a corner, you figured you could handle it but when things got tough you did the smart thing and got back up." He pauses a few seconds and adds. "Wish I was a first pick, but I get it. Gotta keep it small, op-sec and all that shit." He waves it away but you can tell his being left out still hurt a bit.

"What now?" You ask trying to pull the conversation from a soft spot.

"Well, we get with Hawthorne and Gray and talk what we do next about your problem."

"SIM?"

"Hell yeah, now that I'm involved maybe there can be less theorizing and more action. Guy like this you can't let him stew, he's gonna turn into a whole different kinda beast, with Mandragora being locked up he may just go off reservation and vanish."

"Not likely, he's compelled."

"By Dark Shivers, right?"

"I don't really think we need to name it that.." You chime in.

"Okay. His 'ability' compels him to kill which means we might be facing something even worse."

"Worse?"

"Think about him like a Mad Dog. Mandragora keeps him crated up and only lets him out to indulge a little at a time. Occasionally he slips out, like you brought up, and does it himself. But when the door is wide open.."

"He could go anywhere, do anything, we don't have a central pillar to tie him down anymore."

"He was orbiting Mandragora, like the fat ass planet he is, but without that gravity keeping him in place it'll be a bitch to track him. Your Shivers can't pick up on him then?"

"Last time I tried it went bad, I saw him but couldn't see his face. It was dark with glowing tallys"

"So your Shiver's is tracking HIS kills? Is the count accurate?"

"No idea."

"Have you asked him?"

"What?"

"Don't you have contact with him?"

"Burner phones, mine is in my-" You stop yourself as a realization strikes. "Oh fuck. Where's my car?"

"Impound at the station, we brought it in with everything else so it wouldn't look suspicious."

"The phone is in the glove box, if Mendez goes looking or if it rings and someone else picks it up."

"Yeah I get it, we'll be fucked. Where the fuck is Banks, he has my keys."

"Banks does?"

"I let him drive today, that's the last time I do something nice for someone."

"Hawthorne brought me here from the Hospital, we should head back to the parking lot now that things are contained and see if we can't find him."

"Want me to come with? We could talk about this problem of yours on the drive." He looks over his shoulder and scouts around. "I don't see Banks anywhere, the bastard, I haven't seen him since the cavalry showed up."

You take a look over your shoulder at the wrecked stage and back up the street, pockmarked with black burn spots, before sighing.

>"Go find Banks. I'll get Hawthorne, once I have the phone back we can work on this together at the precinct."
>"I'll go with you. Banks disappearing after Firebug went down is odd."
>"Come with me, Hawthorne is old but he's far from frail. If he hasn't shown his head yet something is up."
>Write-In

>>6018344
>"Come with me, Hawthorne is old but he's far from frail. If he hasn't shown his head yet something is up."

>>6018344
>>Write-In
"Does Banks have his phone with him? I can call him and we can find where he is and we can look for Hawthorne once we meet up"

>>6018359
Just to save a little time/votes. I'll let you know Anon that the dress blues have shit for pockets most of the time and cell phones aren't allowed for ceremonies.

>>6018368
>>6018344
well shit guess im changing my vote then from>>6018359 to >"Go find Banks. I'll get Hawthorne, once I have the phone back we can work on this together at the precinct."

>>6018344
>"Go find Banks. I'll get Hawthorne, once I have the phone back we can work on this together at the precinct."
Let's not fuck this up

Hawthorne's been MIA since the event, right? Did something else happen during that? I thought it was only Firebug

>>6018344
>>"I'll go with you. Banks disappearing after Firebug went down is odd."

>>6018344
>"Go find Banks. I'll get Hawthorne, once I have the phone back we can work on this together at the precinct."

If Hawthorn dies, we riot.

>>6018344
>"Go find Banks. I'll get Hawthorne, once I have the phone back we can work on this together at the precinct."

>>6018344
>"Go find Banks. I'll get Hawthorne, once I have the phone back we can work on this together at the precinct."

>>6018370
>>6018380
>>6018428
>>6018875
>>6018880

"Go find Banks. I'll get Hawthorne, once I have the phone back we can work on this together at the precinct." You decide.

Kimble simply nods and holds out a fist once more, you tap his knuckles and you both split off. You heading back towards the stage and parking lot and he back up the street. During the walk back it's hard not to marvel at the chaos Firebug caused, scorched circles with uneven edges litter the ground and a few curtains from the stage lie in a crumpled pile with white dust from fire extinguishers sprinkled atop. You frown thinking how easily that could have been you or Banks.

Passing the stage you see a massive line of vehicles, slowly but surely being directed out. Officers with long guns hold a checkpoint at the exit and run ID's as people pass through, by Gotham standards this is a pretty light response, as you scan over you see a second crowd; people with minor bruises, cuts, and scrapes surround a group of ambulances that offer on-site first aid. Sitting on the chrome bumper of an ambulance is the old man himself, a small swatch of gauze pressed to his throat just under his Adam's apple and a look like he simultaneously drank and smelt sour milk. You break into a light jog, which is still pushing it on your aching legs, and wave him down.

"Hawthorne!" You call out. He nods to you and rises from his seat to approach.

"He's dead." Hawthorne mutters to you angrily through a tightly clenched jaw.

"Woah, what happened? Your neck i-"

"He got the jump on me. Your boy." He says the final part in a low whisper.

"My boy?" You ask, your mind flashing to images of Caesar.

"SIM."

"What? How?"

"He must have been dressed as one of the Meter Maids or Ankle Jerks. Back door opens and before I can tell him to get the hell out there's a blade to my neck." He pulls the gauze away and shows a thin cut surrounded by the dark stain of antiseptic.

"Holy shit.." You whisper. "What did he want? Did you tell anyone?"

"Had too, Rook. I passed out the news and now everyone is getting checked. The mole in GCPD is public knowledge to the department now. He also delivered a message. Mandragora makes bail or else was the gist of it."

"He didn't say anything else specifically?"

"I was too busy thinking about how to get to my ankle holster to pay close attention. But I got the gist. Mandragora wants out and he's willing to green light all of us if he doesn't get it. Your name got brought up."

"I bet. Fucking maniac."

Hawthorne looks over both shoulders subtly, acting as if he's showing off his cut, before leaning in.
"He mentioned something about you missing a meeting. Got any clue about what that's about?"

You clench your fists.
"The phone. The one we use to communicate, it's been in my glovebox since the sting went down."

"The glovebox of the car.-"

"The car sitting in impound? Yeah."

"Fuck."

"Yeah." You repeat.

You both stand in silence thinking for a few moments.

>>6018344
>>"Go find Banks. I'll get Hawthorne, once I have the phone back we can work on this together at the precinct."
Ok, "Dark Shivers" is hilarious, and now I'm just waiting for this name to catch on, to Mark's infinite cringe
>>6018428
>If Hawthorn dies, we riot.
If Hawthorne dies, we are surprised he survived Mandragora affair in the first place.

"Everyone knows about the mole now, so expect Dent to come down hard on us. Especially after Firebug took a second run at him." Hawthorne tells you.

"That's not all we learned, Firebug talked."

"No shit?"

"Apparently this is all Calcs plan. Seems like everyone in on whatever it is gets something from pitching in. Anarky wants Wayne, Firebug wanted Dent, Cobblepot and the Mob Heads just want to be a part of whatever change Calc promised."

"And fatso wanted to see his son again." Hawthorne growls. "Which makes the real question-"

"What Calc gets out of this."

Hawthorne rolls his eyes.
"You've been spending too much time with Gray, he can't keep his revelations to himself either."

"Sorry, Sir."

"Just keep a cork on your enthusiasm around some of the higher ups, they won't find your naïveté as charming."

"You find it charming?" You say with a hand over your heart.

"Shut up." He tells you with a half concealed smile.

"What's our plan then?" You ask, back to business.

"Sounds like you need that phone, get in contact with this freak and.." He lets his sentence drift, eventually shrugging. "We'll figure it out."

"But if he jumped you here he could still be around."

"Or he could have already ditched the whole outfit and vamoosed."

"How far could he have got? If you got out right after him?"

Hawthorne stays silent, his pale cheeks turning a light pink.
"It was a few minutes before I could tell anyone."

"What?"

"He uh...cuffed me with my own bracelets." He tells you rapidly, adding in immediately. "If you laugh I'll have you counting quarters out of the meters at Wayne Tower."

You suppress all humor in your heart, mind, and soul and hold up two hands.
"Shit happens." You state plainly. "But he could still be in the area."

"If you want a ride back to the station then I can take you. I'll tag along if you decide to do some off the clock hunting too. I'm owed."

>"Let's focus on the phone, I brought Kimble in on SIM, we need to group up and talk strategy."
>"He can't have already gotten away, we can find him the old fashioned way."
>"Even if he did get away, as long as he's in the city we have a chance. I'll use Shivers."
>Write-In

>>6019433
>"He can't have already gotten away, we can find him the old fashioned way."
Fucking Christ.

SIM is one of the cops. He doesn't know we had to be at the award ceremony? He doesn't know phones not allowed at those? He knew about the sting afterward because of the Mandragora ultimatum, so he didn't put 2 and 2 together? There's no way for Mark to have got the phone at any point since, dumbass. Now that the mole existing is known, does that cut into Mark's investigation with Gray and Hawthorne? This is a real shitshow now. Hawthorne BEATING Mandragora was a victory and all and the old man deserved that before his retirement, but the lardass is still fighting back

>>6019480
Oh wait, Mandragora knows about Mark now. SIM has a direct line to him too. Or maybe SIM cares about Mark in that twisted way so he's keeping that info away from Mandragora?

it's Banks

>>6019507
No way

>>6019480
To address the first line of your post, I'll just say Mark's involvement in the sting was entirely under wraps known only to Gray, Kimble, Hawthorne, and Reiner. Other people, like the Construction Crew, know about as much as you told them. Also ATM you don't really have any reason to suspect that Mandragora KNOWS you were an undercover. He could definitely suspect it, but you'd have to talk to him or someone else to know. So by extension there's few reasons to suspect Mandragora would even bring Mark's being there up to SIM at all.

TLDR: As far as SIM knows, Mark has gone radio silent for two days for some reason.

This is, of course, all completely dependent on how close of an eye SIM has been keeping on Mark. I wonder if your chats on the phone have made him wary of you or trusting that maybe you want to help more than harm..

Holy shit I totally misread things at first and thought Hawthorne killed SIM offscreen
It was the "He's dead" line that got me

>>6019433
>"He can't have already gotten away, we can find him the old fashioned way."

>>6019433
>"He can't have already gotten away, we can find him the old fashioned way."

>>6019433
>>"He can't have already gotten away, we can find him the old fashioned way."

>>6019423
>If Hawthorne dies, we are surprised he survived Mandragora affair in the first place.
True, to be desu.

>>6019734
Me, too. Did a double-take.

>>6019433
>"Let's focus on the phone, I brought Kimble in on SIM, we need to group up and talk strategy."

>>6019507
Can't be!... Can it?

>>6019734
>>6020070
Wait I don't get it. So who is dead? Someone please explain

>>6020174
I think Hawthorne said "He's dead" as in "I'm going to kill that motherfucker"

>>6020196
I thought it was Hawthorne being snarky and saying he (Hawthorne) was dead. Like when someone asks if you're asleep and you response in the affirmative.

>>6020200
I thought that too, it could be either.

>>6020196
Bingo, anon, reading it in grumpy old man voice helps it click.

>>6019438
>>6019864
>>6019868
>>6019907

"Let's work on getting you that pay back then. He can't have gotten away already, we can find him the old fashioned way."

"Couldn't you use-" Hawthorne begins but stops himself, awkwardly clearing his throat. "Your call, Rook. Gives me a chance to grade you on your urban tracking."

You ignore the clear direction his sentence was going to cast a look over the flowing crowds of people around you.
"If I was going to do something like that I'm left with two options, stay in uniform and just blend in or ditching the outfit and trying to filter out with the civilians."

"And what does your gut say?"

"He's bold. Bold enough to try and pull something on you of all people, I wouldn't put it past him to keep the uniform on and try to just pass it off."

"He had the same yellow vest as the Meter maids, means he stole one or he's a shit heel who pissed off someone enough to get stuck there."

"So you think he's the mole?"

"If he isn't then he's working with him. Either way a vest like that is a beacon, first move is to take it off."

"Unless he expects us to expect that.." You mumble.

"Jesus Christ, we're going in circles. Vest or no we're in a sea of cops, every precinct spared some men for this shit, the pool for suspects is just too large."

You put a hand to your jaw and rub as you let your eyes drift over the crowd. Your mind turns as Hawthorne mumbles some more curses and colorful plans on what he would inflict on SIM if he ever got a hold of him. You let him vent and focus on your thinking. Every precinct in Gotham sent men here. Judging by the expressions most of them wear this speech was probably the last place they wanted to be. You remember something Hawthorne told you in the cruiser on your way to the Museum Opening.

"Be glad we're on VIP duty, rook, everyone else there is gonna be dealing with the public. Basically have to draw names on scraps of paper to find people to work the crowds."

Names on scraps of paper.

Scraps of paper...

Paper.

"Sir?" You ask suddenly, interrupting the description of something that would get most people admitted to Arkham.

"Huh?" Hawthorne replies, his left hand firmly grasped around the wrist of his right.

"What about paperwork? Do they keep record of who's assigned to what?"

"Damn straight they do." He replies, a sly smile spreading on his weathered face before faltering slightly. "Only one problem."

"I'm guessing the records are kept tight?"

"For something like this each precinct keeps their own record. The only place with the full list is City Hall."

"So we can't request them?"

"Not without explaining why, and even if we did explain it all that means is we'll be told to let the Rat Squad handle it."

"Rat squad?"

"Internal Affairs. By the time they get their heads out of their asses it could be two months or so from now."

"Are you serious?"

"Do you have any idea how many incidents are reported to them in Gotham a week, Mark? They were Dent's first stop on his renovation tour, filled it with ass kissers and cry babies, now everything they do is at a snail's pace."

"So they just do nothing? Until what, their schedule opens up?"

"They'll do enough to seem busy, probably make every precinct do a Uniform count and submit it."

"So we're screwed." You state shaking your head, a faint aching starting to form behind your eyes.

"Not exactly. I said WE couldn't ask."

"Then who?"

"The Watch Commanders and Commissioner are the only other ones who could request it without red tape and eyebrows."

"Would Commander Reiner ask questions?"

"Definitely. He wouldn't let us brush him off either, we'd have to play straight with him." Hawthorne says grimly, his tone makes you feel like he may not fully approve of what you've been up to.

"The Commander told me he was sticking his neck out for me, asked me if I could prove him right about Metas in the police.."

Hawthorne grumbles, his hands moving to his hips as he paces back and forth. You find a wall to lean against and just close your eyes, trying to will away the headache and ignore those whispers creeping from the back of your mind.

"There's another option." Hawthorne begins softly, his voice lacking the usual confidence and force you'd grown accustomed to. "You ever hear the expression 'in for a penny, in for a pound' before?"

"Obviously." You reply more sharply than intended.

"Don't get snippy with me, rook. I'm just saying that." He looks around, lowering his already minute volume. "We've already been running off leash for how long now? Would getting those files ourselves really be out of the question?"

You flick your eyes up to him and see he looks at you with something you usually only see on perps and victims. Desperation.

>"Not happening, if we cross that line what's the point of even having the badge? We have to talk to Reiner and if I have to face the music. That's just the cost."
>"I can't. I know it's the best move for us but I can't do it. It would betray every reason I became a cop. I'm sorry, Hawthorne."
>"It's our only option, I don't like it but we need to close in on SIM. We don't have a choice."
>"Let's do it. This thing in my brain puts things in a new perspective, I need to see this through before...whatever happens."
>"We can't do that. But like you said before WE can't do it. But we know two people who aren't very fond of authority."
>Write-In

>>6020258
>"Not happening, if we cross that line what's the point of even having the badge? We have to talk to Reiner and if I have to face the music. That's just the cost."
But with the caveat of adding in that it would betray every reason he joined the police force.

>>6020258
>>"It's our only option, I don't like it but we need to close in on SIM. We don't have a choice."
We are THIS close to at least getting a positive ID on the guy.

>>6020265
+1
This case is also dovetailed with the mole given SIM works for Mandragora and so does the mole. Reiner will do it under the pretense to get at the mole, not SIM. Plausible deniability on his part

>>6020258
>"I think we should take a chance on the Commissioner, since you think that Commander Reiner is a bit too much of a risk. Gordon seems like a reasonable man to me."
I'd like to interact with Gordon more, and he's almost guaranteed to help out without raising a big fucking fuss.

>>6020258
Changing my vote from >>6020298 to backing >>6020306

>>6020306
+1
I don’t love the idea of calling the schizo squad on this one. We can still do it (relatively) on the level.

>>6020306
>>6020267
Fuck it, this actually seems doable and also doesn't betray our principles.

>>6020306
Given the nature of the shitshow, he'll have an excuse to hear us out

>>6020258
>"I think we should take a chance on the Commissioner, since you think that Commander Reiner is a bit too much of a risk. Gordon seems like a reasonable man to me."
We can suggest we got the tip from a trusted (sort of) Batman associate, and that verified it (kind of) with Shivers, but kept it under wraps until Hawthorne was targeted because we didn't want to jump the gun. You have to be sure, before you raise suspicions against another cop.
Gordon wil empathize, if he experienced 'Year One' with Flass in this conrinuity. He got banished to Gotham because of a botched IA investigation, then got the gears in the days when GCPD was openly racketeering

>>6020306
+1

>>6020306
+1

>>6020306
supporting

>>6020306
>>6020308
>>6020311
>>6020315
>>6020398
>>6020453
>>6020693
>>6020708
>>6020889

You aren't sure if Hawthorne is taking this acting this way due to your condition or if he's truly worried about what SIM might be capable of if Mandragora isn't released. The last time Hawthorne crossed him it cost him so much. You give him a shake of your head, you can't let him stray off the path when he's supposed to have won.

"There's another option."

"I'm all ears."

"I think we should take a chance on the Commissioner, since you think Commander Reiner could be a risk."

"Not a risk. I just know the guy, he isn't the type to let these sorta things slide without damn good reasons. Gordon though is a whole different story."

"How so? Gordon seems like a reasonable man to me."

"He is. More than reasonable, the problem is he's the damn Commissioner. We can't just get a meeting with the guy, especially after all this he's going to be up to his neck in paperwork, interviews, and antacids."

"He might if he knows I'm asking."

"Is that so? Because I came up with Gordon for a time, worked with him when Loeb was in charge, not directly but I saw him around. I doubt he'd even see us right now if I was the one asking."

"I get that, but the commissioner and I have..I guess you could say we have mutual friends."

"Go on." He asks suspiciously.

"You know. Him."

You gesture vaguely to the sky and Hawthorne raises his eyebrows.
"The Bat? You're joking right?"

"My ex, remember I told you she worked with Super Girl and had some connections?"

"Oh Jesus, son. Are you syaing what I think you're saying?"

"I met him outside of Gotham, he offered me a job."

Hawthorne's eyes go wide and he blinks a few times before responding.
"You told him to stuff it, then? Otherwise I don't see SIM being much of an issue. Matter of fact, why didn't you just bring it up to him then and there? Ask for help?"

You open your mouth to respond and then slowly close it. You feel warmth gathering in your cheeks as they go a deep red.
"I." You clear your throat. "I was having a bad week, okay? So I might have just, yelled at him."

"You yelled at him? For offering you a job?"

"No, he broke into my apartment."

"What?"

"It doesn't matter. Gordon will talk to me; we had a sort of bonding moment, I guess, before the sting."

"If you think so then go for it, if it doesn't pan out then..." He shrugs. "I guess we're SOL and we deal with it then."

"Pretty much."

"What's the next stop then? Your car or do we try to go straight to Gordon before he gets mummified in red tape?"

>"My phone, I can buy us time with SIM."
>"Gordon, SIM is unhinged and I don't know if I can keep him from doing something drastic."
>Write-In?

>>6021032
>"My phone, I can buy us time with SIM."

>>6021042
+1
We need SIM to remain and not elude us

>>6021098
Exactly. If we can pin him down or even get him to inadvertently reveal his location or identity, all the better.
Either way, keeping him talking is our best bet, and it sounds like he REALLY wants to get a hold of Mark right now.

>>6021032
>"My phone, I can buy us time with SIM."

This fucking pest. If Mark’s gonna die anyways, we should just “dishonorably discharge” a shotgun into this fucker’s back.

>>6021032
>"My phone, I can buy us time with SIM."

>>6021032
>>"My phone, I can buy us time with SIM."

Looks like we are pretty much in agreeance, I feel a long update coming so I'm gonna go ahead and wait until I get home to start writing it up. Feel free to continue to vote in the meantime if you want a free (You)

See you guys soon.

>>6021042
>>6021098
>>6021116
>>6021286
>>6021791

"My phone, I can buy us time with SIM."

"You sure about that?"

"We have a rapport. A really fucked up one but it's there. He wanted to meet me and talk face to face."

"Probably planning to stick you in the ribs." Hawthorne mumbles bitterly as he rubs his shallow cut.

"I thought so too, told him if it came down to a meeting then it would be public."

"You don't plan on honoring that do you?"

"Guess we'll find out soon. I have a feeling that's why he's so jumpy."

"Then let's get to the station. Sooner that meet is set the sooner I get a chance to take a run at him."

"I don't think that's a good idea, sir. He has.." You do everything in your power to not say 'Dark Shivers' "Similar abilities to me. If you or Gray come then he'll probably pick up on it."

Hawthorne grumbles, but you can tell he agrees. He sighs and looks over the parking lot as a Gotham News Van pulls in.
"Vultures are here, let's get you back to your car before they start picking at us."

"Don't have to tell me twice, sir." You reply with a swift turn on your heel.

=========

As Hawthorne's car dips down an old slope approaching the motor bay roll-up door he pulls down his visor and reveals a thick plastic brick with a red button. He taps it and it begins to open. You give him a sideways glance and he shrugs.
"When auto makes a good bust I bring Mendez some booze and we talk cars for a while. She knows her stuff, I use the old entrance so I don't have to go walking past the night shift."

You raise an eyebrow and smirk. A grimace and a roll of the eyes serve as his initial response.
"Grow up."

"I didn't say anything, sir."

"Keep it that way."

The car rolls in slowly, the gentle yellow lights illuminating the massive concrete complex. Most of the vehicles you pass seem to be older models of GCPD patrol cars, SUV's, and even a Motorcycle complete with saddlebags. You hadn't seen this very base of the garage before, every morning you just picked up your shop from the top level and left through the more modern roll-up doors there. Hawthorne notices your wandering eyes.

"We save this level for storage. No reason to ever come down here unless things have gotten so bad we're handing out decommissioned clunkers."

"So none of them drive?"

"Probably could, with some spit and elbow grease. But our budget is tight enough right now."

The car slows to a stop and Hawthorne pulls the key before stepping out, you follow suit and let him lead you to a tall thin metal door. He slides it open with a grunt as rusty steel screeches against itself and reveals a dimly lit elevator.

"Is this safe?" You ask, stepping in cautiously.

"Absolutely, I've taken it a hundred times." He replies as he slams the door shut. "Only got stuck once."

"What?"

An elevator ride filled with chuckling later, a distorted 'ding' announces your arrival as the door slides open to reveal the interior of the impound cage.

Your eyes immediately scan from side to side, hunting for the familiar form of your old car. It doesn't take long to find it considering that leaning against it's hood is Officer Mendez in plain clothes, an expectant look in her eyes, she gestures for you to come closer.

"Rookie." She tells you curtly before giving Hawthorne a nod. "Mitch."

"Ma'am." He replies with equal stoicism.

"Since this was my day off and all you have something for me, right?"

She holds out a hand, palm up, and lifts her eyebrows. Hawthorne digs in a pocket and pulls out a key which he places gently in her hand. She smiles and nods before pocketing it.
"Appreciate ya." She turns her attention to you. "I've got your key too, I spared you the sticker even. That adhesive can be a bitch on upholstery."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Mhm." She says nodding for you to walk with her. She approaches your car and opens the passenger side, pulling a plastic bag full of loose items. Your heart sinks as you stare at the silver flip phone pressed against the thin plastic.

"You catalogued my stuff?"

"Don't look so spooked, rookie. They didn't get me the memo until I was halfway done taking your VIN, plus that phone was going crazy. I had to turn it off."

"Oh." You say simply. Your mind already racing to find an answer to whatever question she could come up with.

"Relax." She states firmly. "I have more to do than worry about your private life, DeLucia. You've been straight with me so, it's none of my business."

"Oh?" You repeat almost automatically.

"Mhm. Rumor is you have more than enough woman trouble on your own without me adding to it." She finishes with a teasing smirk.

"Wait, what? What rumors?"

A firm hand claps your shoulder and Hawthorne gives you a faux sympathetic smile.
"It's alright, kid. Mendez don't judge. Do you Mendez?"

She holds up both hands and twirls Hawthorne's car key around her finger. Sly smile spreading.
"Judge what? I didn't see a thing."

"Thanks?"

"Don't mention it." She looks to Hawthorne as she passes him. "I'll bring her back with a full tank, Mitch."

He grunts in affirmation and she steps into the elevator. Giving a small wave before sliding the door shut. You let out a held breath and look to Hawthorne.
"You're letting her drive the car?"

"It was that or wait until Monday to get your car. Would you have rather waited?"

"No, just surprised you had her number and all...Mitch." You say as you dig the phone out of the bag.

"Rich coming from the office womanizer."

"You know that isn't-" You whip your head up, stopping when you see the grin. You save whatever face you have left and pull the phone.

Slowly it boots up and reveals a litany of text messages that grow more and more demanding as they go, eventually ending with: 'ANSWER ME, MARK.'

"I can see why Mendez thought it was a broad."

You flick through the history until you get near the top. Sent an hour or so after you got into the meeting with Gordon before the sting.
'Let's meet, base of Wayne Tower, are you free?'

"Fuck." You whisper. "He has to know I was in the sting now, that I went at Mandragora."

"What do we do then?"

"I don't know, I didn't expect it to be THIS bad. And we still need to handle Gordon on top of this.." You begin to ramble as your thoughts snowball into words.

"Slow down, rook, when you're dealing with a situation like this you need to get your priorities in order. We came here for the phone, now we have it. So we deal with that first." Hawthorne speaks calmly but firmly, still a teacher.

You give a shallow nod and open the phone. 'SPD DIAL 1' stares back at you, shining through the dim light of the garage.

"What's our next move, son?" He prods.

>"We wait for Kimble and Gray. Together we can talk strategy."
>"I should call him, I need to see where we stand and what he's thinking."
>"Maybe he's still up for the meet. I'll text him to meet me at the Tower."
>Write-In

>>6021958
>"I should call him, I need to see where we stand and what he's thinking."

>>6021958
>>"I should call him, I need to see where we stand and what he's thinking."

>>6021958
>"I should call him, I need to see where we stand and what he's thinking."
Pacify him first thing so he doesn't do something dangerous or go flight risk on us. Remind him we would respond if we were able, so Mark not responding at all means he wasn't able.

>>6021958
>"I should call him, I need to see where we stand and what he's thinking."

>>6021990
+1

>>6021958
>"I should call him, I need to see where we stand and what he's thinking."

>>6021958
>>"I should call him, I need to see where we stand and what he's thinking."

>>6021958
>"I should call him, I need to see where we stand and what he's thinking."

>>6022750
>>6022786
Any chance we can pivot the quest to this?

>6022954
Kill yourself

File: 91EC5761-69C3-417A-A824-B(...).jpg (103 KB, 519x346)

103 KB JPG

>>6022954
Porn addicts like you are funny people.
And by funny, I mean disgusting.

>>6022954
I thought it was a funny joke, anon.

>>6022954
After his help at the museum event? For shame, Anon.

Also there isn't exactly a Batgirl...

>>6021968
>>6021972
>>6021990
>>6022119
>>6022216
>>6022476
>>6022954

"I should call him, I need to see where we stand and what he's thinking."

Hawthorne simply nods, then he just... lingers.

"Uh, sir?"

"Yeah?"

"Could I get a little?" You wiggle the phone.

"You don't want me listening to your pillow talk, eh?"

Now it's your turn to roll your eyes.
"He may be able to sense if someone is with me."

"Ah. Right." He says looking around the dim garage. "Guess I should go make sure Mendez doesn't scratch up my baby."

You say nothing but your eyes convey it all. A crooked middle finger pops up from his right hand as he slaps the elevator button with the left.
"I'll stay down there, come grab me when you're done talking to your boyfriend." He says over his shoulder.

"Yes, sir." You reply with a smarmy grin.

Just before the doors close you swear you see the smallest break of a grin on his face. But as the whirring sound of the elevator fades away your grin slips and you feel an anxious brick form in your gut. The blue screen of the flip phone stares at you like piercing eyes from shadow. You sigh and hit dial.


Ring...

Ring..

Ring.

A crackle and then silence, broken up by slight static and the faintest sound of breathing. You remain silent and are met with the same.

"You there?" You eventually speak up first.

"Mark?" That high pitched Cherub-like voice asks.

"I want to start this off by letting you know. If anything happens to Hawthorne or anyone else, this is over. Our conversations, any offer to help you, and anything I can teach you about how to control the voices. It's all out the window. I'll devote every second I have to finding you and putting you in cuffs. Do you understand?"

A lingering silence again emerges, but this time he breaks it.
"Yes, Mark. I'm sorry about that. But it couldn't be avoided, I have people I answer to."

"So Mandragora is still giving you orders? Even from inside."

"I don't want to talk about him right now. How are you? Where were you?"

"Doing my job."

"See, I understand that. I get that you have a job to do. You understand that for me too, right?" It's voice quivers.

"What are you talking about?"

"I don't want you to hate me, Mark.."

"Answer me then. What do you mean by that?"

"The police have a chain of command, same as the military, same as the government, anything large enough needs that chain. People who give orders and people who follow orders. If someone on the top goes away that chain doesn't break. It just shortens a length."

You feel your blood go cold as he speaks.

"Mark, if you want to save your friends you need to make sure Mandragora is released. On bail or whatever it doesn't matter. It needs to happen before the week ends."

"Who told you this?"

"You know I can't say.."

"Is it Angelo?"

The other line is silent.

"I know he was Mandragora's right hand. Is it him?"

"You know. I can't say." It repeats. But the tone of it's voice is more than clear.

Fuck.

"Yeah, I get it. 'Your new boss' then. What's he planning for the end of the week?"

"Once I tell him the message was delivered he'll send the word out. If Mandragora isn't breathing fresh air by sunrise on Saturday..it's a green light."

"A green light!? Like a hit?"

"Yes.." It whispers.

"On who?"

"All of them, Mark. Kimble, Bennett, Hawthorne, Reiner. Everyone who had a hand in the sting."

You feel sick. It feels like your heart is being pulled across your ribs like a xylophone mallet.

"Mark. They want you too."

"What?"

"They know you won't let it go. The other Officer's will just want their pound of flesh, but they know you'll want more. I tried to tell them, I tried."

"Them? You mean your boss and the mole?"

More silence.

"Fuck you!" Your voice echoes harshly across the garage. You wrangle your temper and let out a stream of hot breath through clenched teeth. "I need to know who the Mole is."

"I can't.."

"I need to know. You have to tell me."

"I CAN'T!" It squeals back, the modulation on it's voice peaking. You hear sniffles and stifled sobs. "I don't want you to die, Mark. You're the only friend I have."

You let the arm holding your phone limply fall by your side and stare into the humming fluorescent bulb of the garage. Your eyes sting and you feel the warm wet trails of tears etching lines down your cheek, but when you check you find nothing. Not a trace of moisture. Not your tears. Things always just seem to go from bad to worse, every victory revealing a loss yet to be suffered, yet the thought of conceding never crosses your mind. The only thing burning a hole in your brain is the question.

How can you convince SIM to help you here? Do you even want his help? Do you even need it?

Slowly you raise the phone back to your ear.

>"Do you still want to meet? Wayne Tower? No weapons." An in person meeting could be what you need to convince him and make him tell you.
>"I'm going to die. I have a brain tumor." Shock him with this, if he's crying over the chance of you dying then this may rattle him enough to break him.
>"I'll handle it. Let them know." This isn't even close to what you want, but a win turning to a draw is better than a win turning to a loss.
>"I'm not dying, and neither is anyone I know. Don't call me again unless you're ready to tell me who the mole is." You don't need him, Gordon is your silver lining right now. You just need to put your hope in him helping you.
>Write-In (Recommended)

Posting this early because I'd really like to give you guys some chance to game-plan. Super interested to read any write-ins you may have as well.

As is tradition, following massive dialogue updates, I'd love to hear your guy's opinions on the characters so far. Especially if your thoughts on anyone have changed over the course of our 7 threads. Thanks again for reading, see you soon.

>>6024490
>>"I'm not dying, and neither is anyone I know. Don't call me again unless you're ready to tell me who the mole is." You don't need him, Gordon is your silver lining right now. You just need to put your hope in him helping you.

>>6024490
>"I'm going to die. I have a brain tumor." Shock him with this, if he's crying over the chance of you dying then this may rattle him enough to break him.