The "Why So Serious? Gotham City Noir" RPG

Discussion in 'RPG Archives' started by Batman, Dec 10, 2007.

  1. Gallagher Shaman of Sexy

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    I smile softly as she makes light of the situation. I decide to play it her way. "Yeah well don't be making a habit out of this drug business Ms Dawes, I'm very well connected you know." I say with a wink. "commissioner Loeb called me and said they'd caught the guys who confronted you."

    "Actually one of them is in here." Added a nurse, who had just walked in the room. My eyes went wide. "Superficial bullet wound. Should be out by tomorrow." I force a smile and turn back to Rachel.

    "Take all the time off you need, no doubt they're putting you into protective custody, or something like it. Get well soon." I say with a smile as I leave the room.

    ***

    I breath heavily as I lean against the wall, I feel dizzy all of a sudden.

    "Serves him right for attacking a defenseless woman."
    I overhear as two nurses walk out of a patient's room. "Well the guy wound up in here so I wouldn't call her that much of a Damsel in Distress."

    They had to be talking about the guy who attacked Rachel. I edged closer to the room and continued to eavesdrop.

    "Well we had orders from the cops, sedate him 'for our own safety' and all that. The guy can barely move. What's he gonna do?" The other merely shrugged and turned the corner out of site. I quietly open the door and walk in, closing and locking it behind me.

    "Wake up."
    I say with a growl. The guy's eyes opened slowly and threw me a dazed look.

    "Who... the hell are you." He spoke slowly. The sedatives kept him drowsy. I walk up beside him. "Wait... I know you... your that attorney... Dent, heh, yeaahh I know you. Got your little friend pretty good didn't we Haha." He said weakly. I narrowed my eyes but kept my cool, he was trying to rile me.

    "You attacked a very dear friend of mine. You've opened Pandora's box... you know that?" I say looking at him with pure hatred.

    "Heh, what ya gonna do, sue me? Ha!" I grab a pillow from behind his head and force it down on his face.

    "Sue you? No." I say, picking something from my pocket, the coin. "I'm teaching you a lesson." I keep the pillow pressed on his face, suffocating him. "I'm not a man of the Law tonight, I'm merely human. You hurt someone close to me, I hurt you. Seems fair to me, seems like justice." I flip the coin in the air and catch it. I look down at my hand to see the shiny side of a dollar. The clean side, the good side. I release the pillow from his face.

    "It's your lucky day." I say with a growl, unlocking the door and leaving the scum coughing and gasping for air.
     
  2. Catman_prb Sad Clown

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    The Alley Behind the Black Ace Bar - 2 Weeks After Hostilities Between Sofia and Mario Falcone Began

    Alberto leant back on the fold up chair around the crate, facing the five men who sat with him. Milos Grappa was looking especially menacing when he sat next to Johnny Viti as he looked almost twice the size of him. Other than Grappa and Viti, there were three men who supplied the Black Ace with "cheap" alcohol while maintaining a good quality.

    "Gentlemen, I know that I can trust you not to be intimidated by Mario or Sofia. Am I correct in this assumption?" Alberto said in a hushed voice. There should be six men around this table. One been shot three hours ago. The three merchants nodded quickly. This Alberto seemed almost as sinister as Carmine had when he started out.

    "Good. I've spread the word that Milos is watching your back. You won't get anymore trouble. I promise you," Alberto said nodding his head. They heard a car pull up at the end of the alleyway. Alberto knew that it was a black sedan. He just wondered which sibling it would be. Then he heard the repetative tap of heels. Ah Sofia.

    "Alberto!" came her high voice, scalding as though she had caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. Alberto looked at her. She was wearing a fur coat and diamonds around her neck, a sure sign she had gone up in the world. He tipped his fedora to her in a sign of mock respect.

    "Sofia. What can we do for you this fine midnight?" he asked as he saw Grappa tense.

    "Stop this silliness at once Alberto. Work with me, and we'll put an end to the madness that has gripped Mario," she implored from the darkness. Alberto raised an eyebrow.

    "So aren't you nuts too sis? As far as I know you started it,"

    "It doesn't matter who started it, it matters who finishes it. Leave Grappa and that lazy slob Viti, and come work for me. You've proven yourself a valuable tactician now," she said in her clipped tone. Alberto threw over the chair he was sitting on and walked over to her. He poked a finger into her collarbone.

    "You always underestimated me. You always looked down on me. You always thought that I would never be anything compared to father, and you're right im not. I'm not helping you or Maria with this stupid war. It's bad for business," he said, looking deep into her dark eyes, which were in stark contrast to her ruby red lips.

    "Yeah and you were always a ***** to me!"

    "Shut it Viti. You dissapoint me Alberto. We could've come to an arrangement," she said, and span on her heel. It was only now that he saw dark shadowy men in the shadows. She muttered something inaudible, then all hell broke loose. Gunfire broke out from the shadowy men, and Grappa ran forwards to pull him out of the way. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Johnny with a molotov cocktail, though where he'd got it was anyones guess.

    The cocktail went up in the air, spinning, and landed on one of two sedans lit up by the gunfire. There was huge explosion, and the first sedan drove off quickly. The men were thrown onto the ground, most of them seemingly unconscious.

    "**** man, you're quite the thug," Grappa shouted at Johnny. Alberto stepped forwards into the moonlight. And what was to become of them?
    [​IMG]
     
  3. MST3K 4ever BRING IT BACK!

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    Oswald stands over his book-keeper Arnold Hasler who is going over his financial records.

    Arnold says, "The way I see it sir you have cleared more than enough to keep the Iceberg lounge open through the year 2009 before you even have to tap into your own finances. Even if you lose money, but there is only one issue that I see sir, and that is the I-R-S."


    Oswald says, "And what issue are they raising?"

    He says, "Well sir your earned income and your reported income at some point sir they are going to raise questions."

    Oswald says, "My good man Arnold, by the time the IRS audit comes due we will have that situation taken care of."

    Arnold nervously asks, "Ummmm how...how...how do you purpose to do that sir?"

    Oswald says, "Simple my good man we will move certain funds to a Swiss Account and invest some of the others in low-risk high yield stocks that I recently found out through a well-placed source here in the lounge."

    Arnold replies, "But sir is this legal? I mean all of this sounds rather...peculiar sir."

    Oswald lets a chuckle through his cigarette holder and says, "My good man this country was founded on peculiar events." He hands Arnold two sheets and says, "Move the funds into these areas within the next 24 hours."

    Arnold reads over the papers and says, "well actually these all seem legal and what your purposing is within the law. It skirts it to be sure but nothing the Federal Government would get in a twist over."

    Oswald says, "Excellent my good man. Now you take of all of this and there will be an extra bonus in your commission next week."

    Arnold nods as Oswald leaves.

    He walks into the surveilence room and says to his head of security, "Activate the camera and bugs in my office. If he calls the Federal Government, SEC or FDIC give him his notice. Once he has left shut the office down again."

    His head of security nods as Oswald walks away.
     
  4. Byrd Man El Hombre Pájaro

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    [​IMG]
    The Cave

    I wince slightly as Alfred places a cotton swab filled with rubbing alcohol on the scratches on my face. I'm sitting on a table inside the cave. My mask and the rest of my gear off.

    "C'mon, Master Bruce. You can fall from three stories without making a grunt. Are you telling me that the big, bad, Batman is afraid of a little bit of stinging?"

    "He got passed me tonight, Alfred."

    "Who?"

    "The Joker. I had him in my grap, but yet he managed to slip through my fingers."

    "And he caused these scratches?"

    "No. Someone else did that..."

    The Joker's tirade pushed all thoughts of the burglar out of my mind.

    "There's a story in there somewhere. I'd rather not press."

    "Good thinking."

    I pull the claw out of my pocket and stare at it. Alfred finishes up with my face and puts his equipment up. I must confess, having a bulter with combat medicine experience doesn't hurt me in my quest.

    "There. All done. It won't leave a scar. The cuts were barely skin deep. They should heal in a day or two."

    As Alfred heads back up top, I approach the Cave's supercomputer. If there are any answers to be found, they'll be in the computer's databanks.

    "Don't forget, later this week you'll be hosting Harvey Dent's fundraising party..."

    "What? We did I agree to that?"

    "You didn't. I did."

    "Why did you do that? A big party will mean someone could find the cave."

    "To keep up with apperances. People have begun to wonder what Bruce Wayne does at night. You've been quite absent on the Gotham social scene. This just might stop the whispers."

    "I don't care what people say. I'll have work to do that night, like every night."

    "No you will not. One reason why I agreed to help you with your mission, you promised you would be Bruce Wayne more often than not. Batman would take a backseat most of the time. You're starting to slip, sir. I can't stand for this."

    I stare at Alfred for a long while, I finally dip my head and nod.

    "Fine. They can have the party here."

    "WIth you attending."

    "...........With me attending...."

    Alfred nods and opens up the elevator doors. I wait until he's gone from ear shot before I utter my last word's.

    "Bruce Wayne hasn't exsisted since I was 8."
     
  5. Eddie Brock Golden Domer

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    [​IMG]

    The encounter with Batman was still fresh in The Joker's twisted mind. The Clown Prince of Crime would concede that Batman was a challenging opponent. However, this would only make it more satisfying when he was broken. And make no mistake - The Joker was determined to break Batman, mentally and physically. For even the madman recognized that he and his foe were two sides of the same coin.

    When the Jokermobile pulled up to the hideout, there was a dog sniffing around the exterior of The Joker's 'home.' Once the Jokermobile had been parked, The Joker went outside to investigate. The psychopath knelt down and stroked the canine's head.

    "Must be a stray," one of The Joker's goons announces.

    The Joker smiled. "Much like The Batman," he replied. And The Joker rose to his feet and brushed the dog hair off his leather gloves. "And we all know that there is only one thing to do with a stray," The Joker continues.

    And in one swift motion, The Joker grabs his pistol and pulls it on the dog. The Joker's smile widens as he pulls the trigger, ending the animal's life. Satisfied with his work, he puts the pistol away. But he does not kneel down to perform his signature move - the carving of a smile. After all, this was just a dog, and that would be...crazy.

    "Throw this useless thing away," The Joker commands, motioning to the bleeding, lifeless body of the stray dog. And with a twisted swagger in his step, The Joker enters his hideout - pleased with all of his accomplishments on this night.
     
  6. Climperoonie A God Named Sparkles?

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    BANE

    My name is Bane. This is the story of my Downfall. The story of how Shaun Backer died, and how I rose from the ashes. When I was just petty old ordinary Backer, I hadn't a care in the world. I worked at a Newspaper company, and one day on my way home, I saw a fellow colleague being mugged. Before I knew what I was doing, I was leaping forward at the mugger. Then a noise that shook me to the core errupted. BLAM! My face exploded in pain. I drop to the ground, and saw the man reloading. He had run out of bullets, so I was lucky. CRACK! Maybe not. He had broken my nose. That was when I blacked out.

    Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. That was the noise I woke up to.

    "Hello?!" I shouted. The room looked like a lab, and I was strapped to a table.

    "Ah, Mr. Backer, you are awake." The voice came from the shadows. A man in a lab-coat stepped out.

    "Who are you?" I scream at him, struggling to break from my bonds.

    "I am Doctor Fitzgerald." The man said. "And you are to become my experiment." Before I knew what was happening, he had leapt forward and strapped a mask over my face.
     
  7. Harlekin Business

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    [​IMG]

    “A man that doesn't spend time with his family can never be a real man.”
    ~ The Godfather (1972)

    “There is a fruit that Gotham adores but never devours. Celebrated for it’s beauty. Within three days this fruit shall hang from a tree, like the oranges in a Californian orchid,” Bartlett repeated again as she and her partner sat at their desks “What’s so special about a Californian orchid?”
    “Kid, I ain’t ever been in California.”
    “The fruit that we never devour?”
    “You’re as much a Gothamite as I am. I have no idea.”

    Bartlett sighed.

    “Damnit!”

    The bastard was going to get away with it.
     
  8. Eddie Brock Golden Domer

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    [​IMG]

    The Joker gazed upon his bulletin board of Gotham's biggest 'do-gooders.' He merely stared at the defaced picture of Batman for a while. Oh, he would enjoy being able to draw a big 'X' over that face. The Joker stepped back and looked at the other photos. Many of them had already been crossed out. Then the madman's eyes locked upon Harvey Dent.

    A chilling smile overtook The Joker's face as he thought about the campaigning DA. The Joker had made his opinions known about Dent, and make no mistake, The Joker had his reasons for targeting Harv. In fact, it was time to confront Dent about this.

    "Gentlemen, I'm off to have a talk with Mr. Dent," The Joker announces to his motley crew. "Enjoy yourselves, but remember: no Pay-Per-View! HAHA!"

    And so The Joker entered his civilian vehicle - a purple convertible. In the dark of Gotham City, no one would recognize the maniacal driver. This car allowed The Joker to travel about Gotham City undetected. And, as an added bonus, The Joker switched the plates out every week.

    Driving calmly and slowly, The Joker headed for Harvey Dent's campaign headquarters. The Joker laughed quietly to himself as he imagined the encounter.

    When The Joker arrived at his destination, he parked the car and popped the trunk. Grabbing the supplies he would need, The Joker made his way to the door. It was quite late, and the only person working was Harvey Dent's secretary. Using a fedora to hide his face, The Joker asked, "Is Mr. Dent in?"

    The secretary did not look up from her computer. "He's out visiting Ms. Dawes," she explains.

    Dawes? As in Rachel Dawes? She was another target on The Joker's list - albeit a less important one. Nonetheless, The Joker continued, "Do you expect him back soon?"

    "I honestly don't know."

    The Joker puts his hands in his pockets. "I can wait," he explains.

    "If you'd like, I can take your name and contact you when Mr. Dent returns," the secretary suggests - still not looking at the visitor.

    "My name?" The Joker repeats happily. "It's JOKER."

    The secretary looks up just in time to see the man remove his fedora. Before she can scream, a well-thrown knife pierces her heart. As she looks at the running blood, the killer advances on her.

    The Joker would wait for the secretary to bleed out before performing his trademark move. In the meantime, he enjoyed watching her slowly die. It was more entertaining than reality TV to him.
     
  9. Cyrusbales Registered

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    [?]THE RIDDLER[?]


    Preliminary report from the ‘Juilia Estenmoor’ murder scene by Dr. E. J. Lowe, Chief Medical examiner.

    The victim has been identified as Julia Estenmoor, who was recently nominated as ‘Miss Gotham’. She is twenty four years of age and was reported missing this morning.

    Her body was found hung from Gotham’s Christmas tree in the centre of the market district in the early hours of the morning. The rope used is currently being traced, but all signs indicate it is mass manufactured and tracing will provide little, if any, evidence to assist in the solution of this crime.

    The swelling in the ocular cavities and stress on the veins of the neck and within the vitreous-humour is consistent with death by hanging, for a confirmed cause of death a full autopsy will need to be conducted to clarify the above.

    Traces of an unknown green fibre has been extracted from underneath the victim’s fingernails, likely to be a man-made fibre used in mass manufactured clothing. The nails themselves were in good quality, and no signs of a struggle are evident as bruising is only apparent around the neck area from the suspected cause of death.

    There is no sign of sexual trauma in any part of the victim’s body, and no removal of body parts in any way is apparent. Her bag and personal effects lie at the bottom of the tree itself, ruling out robbery as a motive, which is further re-enforced by the displaying of the body in such a public place, not too mention the difficulty involved in placing the body in such a way and place without being discovered.

    An aerial photograph has revealed a large green question mark symbol scrawled across the whole area in what we believe to be the same untraceable paint used in the theft of bodies from Gotham cemetery recently.

    As of yet, there appears to be no evidence of the killer/killers that can be quantified apart from the green fibre which awaits analysis later this afternoon. On a side note, Julia’s background shows she moved to Gotham when she was four from California, further linking this crime to the note received by Gotham PD three days earlier.

    A full autopsy and analysis shall be completed within the next three days.
     
  10. Climperoonie A God Named Sparkles?

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    BANE
    When I come too, I am in a metal holding cell with but a glass window in the corner. This would have terrorfied me most if it wasn't for the fact that my body had become almost unrecognisable. I looked as though I had been put through rigourous exercise and been subdued to a LOT of steriods. I was wearing dark blue fingerless gloves, trousers and straps across my chest and black bunker boots. I reach up to my face and feel a mask covering it.

    "No, No, no, no, no no!" I shout the last word. I hear Dr Fitzgerald outside laughing. I get annoyed. I run, straight at the metal door. I managed to break through and see the startled look on Dr Fitzgerald's face. He's gonna pay for ruining my life.
     
  11. Val Meow

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    [​IMG]

    Selina woke up in the morning after her encounter with the Batman still in a bad mood, sure she had managed to escape, as expected, but no one had been able to get that close before. Of course her new clothes and accessories could have some fault since it had been the first time she wore the full outfit but what bothered her the most was that she hadn't heard him approach her at all... she was stealthy and she took pride on it but she had never met anyone as good, or possibly better, than her.

    With a stretch she picked up her warm cup of coffee and walked over to the living room, Selina picked up her mail and trashed all the junk until something caught her eye, a smirk grew slowly on her lips as she read the contents of the envelop...

    "Fund raiser at the Wayne Manor... sounds interesting."


    For a few months now Selina had been trying to get better.. acquaintance with Gotham's finest. This would be a good opportunity.
     
  12. Harlekin Business

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    [​IMG]

    “A man that doesn't spend time with his family can never be a real man.”
    ~ The Godfather (1972)

    Vincent Del Arrazio read through the report of the Chief Medical examiner had written on the ‘Miss Gotham’ crime scene. Del Arrazio had not actually been there when the body was found, but the report was detailed enough for him to visualize what the unsuspecting citizens of Gotham had come upon when doing their Christmas shopping. It was not a pretty picture.

    “Bastard got us good,” his partner, Joely Bartlett, said as she sat down at her desk, which sat opposite of his.
    “You can say that again. How did we miss this, Joe? The fruit that Gotham ‘adores but never devours. Celebrated for its beauty’?”
    “Don’t beat yourself up, Sarge, this guy is good.”
    “Real good.”
    “So what are we going to do about it?”
    “We can’t do anything about it. This guy has no rhyme or reason beyond his riddles.”
    “Maybe that’s what we need to do?”
    “What, leave riddles?”
    “Yeah, you see…” and Joely explained her plan.

    * * *​

    GOTHAM GAZETTE

    FOR: THE RIDDLER

    All of Gotham City knows them, but they do not know all of Gotham City.

    Who are they?
     
  13. Gallagher Shaman of Sexy

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    Harvey Dent

    Christmas with the Joker, Part I

    My mind races as I leave the hospital, with it leaving behind a choice I could have regretted forever. It was a flip of a coin, a 50/50 chance of doing something incomprehensible. Take a life. What the hell is wrong with me, I'm not a violent man, never have been. Why was I compelled to do such a terrible thing? Was it my feelings for Rachel? or my hatred for the evils of men? Perhaps maybe both, I don't know, but what I do know is I'm no executioner.

    I breathe heavily as I pass the window decorations in the town, it was late, the stores were closed but still the red and green festive colours dazzled and stood out from the rest of Gotham's brown, grey and black. Such a good and innocent celebration of Christmas seemed nigh impossible on the streets of Gotham, crime and corruption roamed free as a bird, how could anybody celebrate a time of giving when clearly everything was being taken from them.

    It's why I do what I do. Give it back, give Gotham back to the people from which it was cruelly stolen. With my mind on work I decide to stop by the office, paperwork isn't going to fill itself out after all.

    ***

    The lights were off, Martha must've called it a night, and no wonder! I gazed up at the clock, it's the early hours of the morning! Suddenly the smell hits me. Blood, the sickening smell of warm blood, I could practically taste the metallic tang of the plasma in the air. Martha was dead.

    "Oh Jesus... Oh God no..."
     
  14. Eddie Brock Golden Domer

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    [​IMG]
    The Joker immediately hears the repulsed reactions of Harvey Dent. It brings a smile to his face. To think, that one simple murder could have such a profound effect. Truly, this was one of the many reasons that The Joker loved his pastime.

    "Jesus? Please, Mr. Dent, my friends call me Joker," the madman calls out in a sickeningly sweet voice. He flicks on the lights in Harvey's office. The blood-stained Joker is relaxing in Harvey's chair with his feet up on the desk. He absent-mindedly carves fine lines in the wood with his bloody knife - the same knife that saw the end of Martha's life.

    "Please, have a seat," The Joker calls out, "I'd like to talk about my campaign contribution."
     
  15. Green Lantern Brightest Day

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    12/21/2007, 3:51 P.M., J. Edgar Hoover Building, Washington, D.C.
    Office of FBI Director Simon Bones


    [​IMG]

    A blonde woman knocked on the closed wooden door, below the brass plate labeled Director Bones.

    What could he want? If I hadn't shot Props he would have killed another girl.

    "Come in."

    Special Agent Cameron Chase's thoughts were interrupted by the gruff voice of the Director. She hesitated for just a second before opening the door.

    "Ah, good. Have a seat Agent Chase."

    As she sat down across from him, she looked down nervously at his paper strewn desk, looking for any clue as to why the Director wanted to see her.

    "Nervous, agent? No need to be. You have an outstanding record both as a profiler and as a field agent. Your role was crucial in the Monty Props case. That said, I have a favor to ask of you."

    "What is it, sir?"

    The older black man across from her clasped his hands, "Temporary reassignment. A large number of unusual cases seem to be popping up in Gotham City, New Jersey. Assistant Director Steel requested you specifically since you seem to have a knack for solving the unusual cases. I told him it would be up to you."

    Chase's mind started processing this. Its only temporary. I think I can handle living in Gotham for a little while. And would I like the opportunity to profile their 'Batman'

    "Sure sir, I'll do it."

    "Good, I'll call him and give him the good news."

    As Chase got up and started to walk towards the door, she heard the Director's rough voice again.

    "Oh, and Agent? You're still to report to me, also. I don't entirely trust Steel."

    "Yes, sir."

    12/29/2007 12:18 P.M. Archie Goodwin International Airport, Gotham City, New Jersey.

    As Agent Chase stepped out of the gate carrying her briefcase and laptop, she saw a brunette in a pantsuit, holding a similar briefcase.

    "Agent Barrett?"

    "Yes, you must be Agent Chase. Hurry, we got a crime scene to get to."

    "Crime scene? Already? I haven't even picked up my luggage!"

    "Get used to it, you're in Gotham now..."

    "Alright, what's up?"

    "Serial killer's latest 'family' outing."

    "'Family outing'? What's that mean?"

    "So far the only lead we have is that all nine of his victims are related. All members of the Etchison family."

    "Where's the body?"

    "An abandoned warehouse in Crime Alley."

    "Crime Alley? God, you guys really go over the top here don't you?"

    "Welcome to Gotham, Agent Chase."
     
  16. Gallagher Shaman of Sexy

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    Harvey Dent

    Christmas with the Joker, Part II
    Several thoughts darted through my head all at once, choices to make. I could make a run for it, out the door I came from. I could assault the maniac, fight my way out of this. No, he'd be expecting either of those things. I decided to play it cool.

    "I'd rather stand."
    I say turning my eyes away from the lifeless and bloody body of my secretary. The next sight I laid eyes on was almost as nightmare-inducing. The 'clown prince of crime' the newspapers had dubbed him. I knew better, he was just another maniac. Just another unloved lunatic preying on the fearful. "What do you want clown?"
     
  17. Eddie Brock Golden Domer

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    [​IMG]
    "I want what you want, Harv," The Joker replies innocently with a coy frown. His demeanor instantly returns to its normal, unhealthily happy state.

    The Joker tosses one of his defaced Dent campaign ads across the desk. Surely, the future District Attorney has already seen it, but The Clown Prince of Crime shows it to him anyway.

    "I believe in Harvey Dent, too," he states matter-of-factly, reciting the phrase emblazoned on the sheet of paper. Then, he shrinks down lower as his smile widens. "And I mean every word."

    The Joker pulls out a deck of cards and begins to shuffle it. "Now, go ahead and ask it," The Joker orders. He knows that his comrade is surely wondering why he has earned the madman's support.
     
  18. Gallagher Shaman of Sexy

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    Harvey Dent

    Christmas with the Joker, Part III


    I looked down at the poster, childish scribbling drawn all over it. I wasn't impressed by immature pseudo-death threats and mockery. I decided to humour the madman. Heh, 'Humour' something which he obviously liked to think he knew a lot about.

    "Alright. Why? Why do I deserve your attention? Surely there's some helpless woman to murder."
     
  19. Eddie Brock Golden Domer

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    [​IMG]
    "Quite right!" The Joker responds gleefully. "So I'll make this fast so I can get to her!" In all actuality, The Joker never plans ahead for a killing - unless it's high-profile. However, he likes to play along to repulse Mr. Dent.

    "I recognize something in you, Harv - something dark," The Joker explains calmly. His shuffling of the cards immediately ceases. "You use 'the law' to justify your crusade, YET there are times when you put yourself above the law, are there not?"

    The Joker could practically sense Harvey's body as it tenses up. What exactly did this clown know? What was he driving at?

    "You, like The Batman, recognize that there are times when justice involves being unjust. And I absolutely LOVE that duality in you!"

    The Joker returns to his playfully card-shuffling.

    "You're damaged goods, Harvey. And I truly believe that, given the pressure of the District Attorney position, you'll crack," he admits. "And I think it will tickle me pink to see a lawbreaking DA in office!"

    The Joker gets up from his seat and makes his way to the door. As he passes Harvey, he holds out a Joker card.

    "Give Rachel my best."

    The Joker's smile expands as he sees the horror on Harvey's face at the mention of Rachel Dawes. If there's one way to get under a man's skin - no matter how tough it is - threaten his lady-friend. Even if one doesn't follow through with the threat, it can be quite enjoyable to watch the other man's reaction.

    Harvey glares at The Joker and refuses to take the card. So The Joker slides it into the front pocket of Harvey's shirt. And with a calm grin, The Joker lightly pats Harvey on the cheek. Dent shrinks away from the contact - which only makes the clown chuckle softly.

    And with the simple press of a button, The Joker unleashes canisters of harmless green and purple gas into the room. The gas is merely a distraction so The Joker can make his getaway without Dent trying to make a move.
     
  20. Gallagher Shaman of Sexy

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    Harvey Dent

    Christmas with the Joker, Part IV

    "Son of a *****!"
    I shout out loud, thrashing out at nothing in particular, the smoke fogs the entire office. I start to feel a build up of utter rage building inside as I stumble blindly to the phone on my desk. I pick up the receiver and dial.

    "Get me Loeb NOW!"
    I scream down the phone at a clearly startled operator.

    "Dent? This is Loeb. What's going on?" Comes the calm, inquisitive tone from the other end.

    "It's Martha, my PA. She's dead, your murderous clown friend was here. We had a nice little chat." I growled down the phone, this wasn't Loebs fault but right now I needed someone to vent on. "Where the hell was that 'protection' you offered? Out buying ****in' donuts!?"

    "Oh my god, Harvey, we will have a team sent down at once. I'm damn sorry to hear about what happened but you need to calm down an-"


    I felt a lump in my throat, the very physical representation of my rage. "Bit late for that! You let this man escape! Do you hear me!? You and whatever bull**** attorney he had let this man go free. WHEN you catch him, I will send him down. Got that? Nobody else is gonna prosecute this one! It'll be me!"

    "Dent your gettin ahead of yourself, we need to catch the little bastard first."

    I calmed down a second, the rage slowly passing.

    "I know. So far you haven't done an exactly impeccable job."I sneer, gazing out the window. What I see outside causes an epiphany. A signal in the sky, a bat. "The Batman..." I think out loud.

    "Dent... what?"


    "Nothing, just... get someone down here to take away the mess will you."
    I shout, slamming the phone down. My eyes catch sight of myself in the mirror. I don't like what I see. My first breaks the glass, splintered and split down the middle...
     
  21. Green Lantern Brightest Day

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    12/29/2007 1:05 PM, East End, Gotham City. 1354 Crime Alley. Junior Gucco's Meat Shop. Abandoned.

    As the two agents pulled up to the rundown former butcher shop, Chase notices the nuances of the area. The buildings are run down, many of them boarded up. Those that aren't boarded up had shattered glass where windows once were. Just from a quick glance she counted three drug dealers and seven prostitutes. She saw junkies in the shadows, and a foul stench emanated from the scores of unwashed homeless.

    "Lets get this over with. Sooner we finish here, the sooner I can take a clorox bath to feel somewhat cleaner."

    "Heh, I used to feel that way too. Hate to say it, but you get used to it."

    Cameron ducked under the crime scene tape and her partner did like wise. Inside they approached the officer on the scene. In front of the officer a body was hanging by a single leg over a large bucket. The body was no longer dripping any blood, but the two things most apparent to Chase, were the absence of a head on the body, and an absence of skin on the carcass. The head was on the ground near the blood filled bucket, and the skin was nowhere to be found.

    "Special Agent Cameron Chase, FBI. What have you got for us, officer?"

    "Same as the other eight, agent. Another member of the Etchison/Grant family lines. MO is the same too. Skinned and left hanging in a butcher shop, or slaughter house. The guys have started calling this guy the Abattoir, he kills them like cows in a slaughter."

    "You're a doctor, right Agent Barrett? Lets get an autopsy on Mr. Etchison here."

    "Right."

    3:22 PM. Kane County Morgue.

    "Evidence of severe electrical burns on the back of victim. Two circular marks, from what seems to be a cattle prod. Victim appears to have died from exsanguination. Both coronary arteries and the femoral artery of the victim have deep cuts. Removal of victims head appears to have been postmortem, as there is little blood left in the head. In the head, the tongue was removed, and found in a cooler near the body with the liver and kidneys of the victim. The remaining internal organs were removed and discarded in biohazard container near the victim's body. MO matches the at large serial killer known by many as the Abattoir Killer. No physical evidence to the identity of the killer."

    As she turned off the recorder, Agent Barrett turned back to her partner.

    "What did you find, Chase?"

    "There are sixteen members of the Etchison family, and numerous Grant's in the local metro area. Only one member of the Grant family has been murdered. Alan... married.. to Eloise Etchison. Which really makes me rule out Grant's as potential vics. My hunch is that one of the remaining eight Etchison's is the killer. We got Elinore, Graham, Henry, Arnold, Eric, James, Bryan and Jennifer. I'm going to start calling them, and warning them."
     
  22. Catman_prb Sad Clown

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    Alberto Falcone - There Will Be Blood

    Alberto stood at the bar talking with Johnny Viti, who had just finished serving a round of drinks to a group of people in the corner. Milos Grappa was making his presense known, wandering aimlessly through the bar and looking menacing, whilst not being scary enough to frighten the customers off.

    His gaze occasionally shifted to the men in the corner. They hadn't touched their drinks, and they were watching the bar. The main door opened and three men entered. From their dress and the way they walked Alberto would've said plain clothes police. They walked over to the bar and the guy who looked like he was in charge pressed his swollen, ruddy face into Johnny's.

    "Who's in charge here?" he growled. Alberto put a hand on his shoulder.

    "That would be me, my friend. Is there a problem here?" he said calmly, soothingly. The fist came fast, hitting him hard in the stomach and doubling him over. The other two men put a hand either side of Johnnys arm and dragged him out into the back room.

    "Sofia says this is your last chance," he growled and Alberto could smell the booze on his breath. There was shouting all around the room as patrons ran out the door, but it was all like white noise to Alberto. He could hear thudding, heavy footsteps behind him, and Sofia's thug was knocked to the floor. Milos Grappa stood over him looking fierce.

    "You can tell Sofia that there is no way any of us here are going to be her lapdog," he barked. There was a loud crash as the table in the corner was turned over, and the men sitting there drew machine guns out, firing wildly. Grappa grabbed Alberto and threw him behind the bar.

    "They've taken Johnny out back," Alberto shouted over the noise, his eyes screwed shut. There was no reply. He opened his eyes. Milos Grappa wasn't behind the bar with him. The machine gun fire stopped. Alberto lifted his head up very slowly.

    Milos Grappa lay on the floor, spread eagle with blood pouring out of the bullet hole in his head. The four men who had been at the corner table were walking very slowly towards the bar. The pistol that had been in Grappa's hand had flown across the room and was lying under a chair. Alberto crawled over on his hands and knees, graspng the smoke for the pistol. His hands clasped around it and he picked it up. He fired blindly.

    There was a shout, telling him that a bullet had found its target, before the machine gun fir opened up again. Alberto leapt towards the back door, knocking it open to reveal the two thugs beating up Johnny. He pistol whipped one in the face, and shot the other in the head. It was so easy...

    Johnny looked up with one swollen eye and blood pouring down his cheek.

    "Where's Milos?" he asked as Alberto pulled him up by the arm.

    "It doesn't matter," he said, his voice catching slightly. He could hear the men coming to the door; probably some of Mario's goons. He grabbed Johnny Viti by the arm and pulled him towards the sedan.

    "But I thought the Black Ace was neutral?" Johnny gasped, blood pouring down his lips.

    "Well it's not any more is it Johnny?" he shouted, panting slightly.

    "What happens now?" Johnny croaked.

    "There will be blood. That I promise," he said through gritted teeth.
     
  23. SenseiofCheese has been expecting you.

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    Victor Zsasz

    Jolene Harper.
    She's very pretty. In fact, I probably would have bedded her in my previous life. Her blond, wavy hair reaches down to her shoulders. Even looking at it makes your fingers tingle in anticipation of running them through it. Her eyes are every bit as blue as the ocean. The kind of blue that makes you lose yourself in thought. The kind of blue that's a bit dark but seems to lighten everything up. Her nose truly defines 'cute as a button'. Her lips, a soft pink, look as soft as bubblegum. When she talks, her voice burrows into ones heart and makes one feel that something so beautiful shouldn't live in a world so filthy.
    Her skin, her soft, soft porcelain skin, offers no resistance to my sharpened blade as I slide it in between her ribs.

    Her blood pumps out in a slow rythm, warming my hand as it calmly drips down to the ground. Her gasps of gratitude warm my heart as her blood warms my body.

    "You are free, now." I whisper softly in her ear, as my other hand reaches up and wipes the tears from her eyes. Her hands grab my shirt when I slowly pull the knife out of her body. Her knees buckle, but I support her weight. She is free now. It's time for my salvation.

    My hand finds the strand of rope I had laid on the table beside me and grabs it tightly. The blade in my hand rests against her long, slender neck. With a movement as silent as the night outside, the knife slides from one end to the other, ripping her neck open.
    Her gasps die down as her eyes roll up in her head. "You're welcome."
    I pull on the rope. Her entire body turns upside down as it gets pulled up into the air.
    Suspended in the air above me, her body swings back and forth. Underneath, I slowly close my eyes and let her blood fall down on me. Clean me.

    I calmly bring the knife up to my chest and carve into my skin, next to three other identical incisions.

    Jolene Harper. The fourth I have saved, of many to come.
     
  24. Apprentice Guest

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    IC: RACHEL DAWES
    The apartment - if it could even be credited as such - was dingy, dirty, and to Rachel, downright disgusting. With an exasperated sigh, she settled the small duffel bag of roughly-packed clothes to the floor and slowly wandered further into the musty-scented chamber, which strongly resembled a small series of catacombs; furniture was sparse, scattered around the living room and consisting of a rickety table, a rusting television stand, and a cupboard for toiletries. Her brow crinkled as she probed the sofa with one hand, marking her palm with dust whose hue had been darkened by neglect. Renee Montoya closed the door firmly, sliding the locks into place, and Rachel suddenly felt as though she were trapped. The policewoman must have sensed her ward's discomfort, as she shot her an irked glance before retrieving a small metallic decanter of whiskey and swilling it into a glass.

    "I'm sorry it isn't up to your usual standards, your Eminence," Montoya half-growled, before taking a swig from the amber liquid. "I'm afraid we can't afford penthouse suites."

    "Well, if I suspected you had a problem with me before, that pretty much confirms it." Rachel reluctantly plopped down onto the sofa, eliciting a short sharp blast of filth from beneath the cushions.

    Montoya chuckled somewhat maliciously, her gaze burrowing into her drink. "I cannot believe I got stuck with this assignment. Seriously."

    Rachel pinched the bridge of her nose and kneaded it carefully, attempting to assuage the headache that was hammering through skull. "You're not the one that has to put up with you. This isn't much fun for me either, you know. Three weeks in a hospital, and then discharged into protective custody with an embittered woman who clearly doesn't like me and drinks on the job." She eyed her companion, pleased with her retort. "Seriously."

    "I'm not gonna go tee-total just because I have to babysit a spoilt rich kid from the Wayne playpen," Montoya shot back. "If you getting attacked again means you losing your cosy little job up in the DA Office, then I'm all for it."

    Rachel rose to her feet, curling her fingers into tight, defiant fists. "You have no idea how much worse this city would be if I hadn't put my heart and soul into helping it."

    "Oh, stop it. This 'tough chick' act doesn't fool anybody. And neither do your declarations about how much you've done to save Gotham." Montoya paused, driving a mouthful of alcohol around her mouth with her tongue. "You don't know how bad this hellhole of a town truly is. You read it in the newspapers, you watch it from your high horse, but you don't know it."

    "I'm in this situation because I was beaten half to death by mobsters that I helped to take down!" Rachel protested.

    "Because you drew attention to yourself. You asked for it."

    Rachel swallowed hard, before grinding her teeth together and taking a step towards the other. "So, for trying to keep the citizens safe, I deserve to be viciously assaulted?"

    "Stop deluding yourself! You're not keeping people safe! Pushing a pen around a sheet of paper that will just get tossed in the trash by a corrupt judge is not keeping people safe!" Montoya was enraged now, gripping the sides of the table and clenching it tightly. "It's people like me and Gordon and Bullock, the ones who patrol the streets and throw themselves in the line of fire, we're the ones helping people!"

    "And once you catch them, you expect to just stick them in Arkham or in a jail cell and let them rot? Who do you think gets them there, or, more importantly, keeps them there?!"

    "Harvey Dent. The Commish. Anyone that doesn't come from money. Anyone that can't get a million dollars wired into their bank account from Bruce Wayne at the drop of a hat." She swallowed the last of the whiskey. "You can't help people that you can't relate to, Miss Dawes."

    "Don't you dare suggest that my life has been an easy ride! This city has treated me just as badly as it has you and every other clean cop," Rachel exclaimed, gesticulating wildly as she spoke. "You're not a unique sob story, Detective. Get over it."

    Montoya's lips parted, but her following words were drowned out by a rapping of knuckles against the door. She was instantly on her feet, pistol in hand; Rachel fell back behind the sofa and pushed back a stray hair. The door swung open, revealing a trio of tall, broad-shouldered men attired in heavy coats and expensive suits. Rachel gulped inaudibly, the pain of her injuries flashing through her as their appearance raised memories of her perpetrators on the fire escape.

    "Hey, pretty lady," the first man greeted softly. "We're looking for a Miss Rachel Dawes."

    Damn. Our location was leaked already. Montoya shook her head vehemently. "Sorry, wrong address."

    The thug pressed forward threateningly. "You know that's not the answer I wanted to --"

    "I'm here." The expression was fuelled almost by instinct, but Rachel took no time to ponder the rationality of it as she snapped to a standing position and strode over to Montoya's side. "Let me guess. Moxon wanted me finished off this time?"

    "Stupid *****," Montoya muttered under her breath, readying herself to whip her pistol into range and squeeze the trigger.

    "Wise move, doll," the enforcer chuckled. "And Mist'r Moxon would've sent Pablo and his guys again, but after what you did to 'em last time...well, let's just say we're lucky you ain't got any pepper spray or bullets on ya now, huh?"

    Rachel's lips curved into a small smile. "You underestimate me. All these years I've been in Gotham, and you thought I'd never been to a self-defence class?" In a swift, fluid movement, she drove her knee upwards between his legs and swept up Montoya's empty glass. Before he could retaliate, she slammed the glass into his face; it shattered and he tumbled, a swift blow to the head silencing his cries as he fell. The second darted forward, but Rachel slipepd to the side and hooked her foot around his ankle. He careened into the table, which promptly collapsed atop him. Even as he scrambled free of the wooden debris, Montoya span to gun down their last remaining opponent; Rachel, though, seized her firearm and whipped it butt-first across his face. He slumped across the unconscious form of his 'leader' as the assistant district attorney turned and jammed the gun into the now half-standing gangster's stomach.

    Montoya drew her fist back and felled him with a hard, simple strike. "That was...the supidest thing I've ever seen."

    "Well, I doubt you've ever seen a spoilt little rich girl fight like that. Maybe that even counts as 'throwing myself into the line of fire'." Rachel gathered her duffel bag into her arms and stalked down the hallway, stepping over the incapacitated criminals. "I think I've got a better chance of staying alive away from the police force. Don't worry...I'll make sure those guys get prosecuted. But right now, I've got a fundraiser to attend."
     
  25. MST3K 4ever BRING IT BACK!

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    Oswald sits with his Chief of Security going over tapes of bugged converstations in the Iceberg Lounge.

    Oswald says, "Edward my boy there is plenty of information here we can use in the mob wars. Make sure that you sources know that I have this information and I will be more than willing to share my information for the right price of course."

    Edward nods and says, "I will have the information out before tomorrow night's opening of business."

    Oswald says, "I want it done midnight not a minute later. The people who want this sort of information won't wait long for it."

    Edward nods and says, "We are looking at some serious overtime at that rate."

    Oswald stands up and snickers and says, " I will add another 0 to your pay check this week and call it even."

    Edward says, "At that rate expect it out within the hour."

    Oswald nods and leaves.
     

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