Re: Gotham: Year One
"So they've finally kicked you down to join us, Gordon?" Jeers from the few other deadbeats and debris here joined hers, targeted at the recently embarrassed police officer. Gordon had never really held the power that his rank said he did at the best of times, and after his most recent fiasco nobody was scared about incurring his wrath. The Lieutenant was too bloody stoic for that anyway, and even she hadn't liked him - he was almost too honest, somehow. It got on her nerves.
Katherine looked at the television as she ran down the short list of the two officers who had dared support their idiotic messiah in his latest idiotic venture. Bullock was an idiot, Motoya too soft-limped and yet they were walking around with their jobs and bodies mostly intact. By all rights they should've been stuck in the Pawn office with her.
(People said Carmine had connections with the Mayor. Heavy connections).
It rankled that they were still there.
The cop slid her stick aimlessly across the ground. The scraping sound reminded her of the cane in her house, the mocking gift from that freak of a man. He'd known she couldn't do anything to her, so he'd given her a goddamn swordstick. A weapon. It was an open taunt.
(She'd already gone out by night, hadn't she? She could do a better job.)
Soon she'd have to go downstairs and start filing form B127 again, and again and again until the clock hand hit five and she was free to go. Stuck down there with the other rejects and cops with dead jobs.
Katherine turned to face Gordon, not caring what the other police in the room might think. Her job was dead in the water anyway. "What the hell were you thinking, Lieutenant? Did you really have enough evidence to make it stick? This is Gotham. What the hell could make it work?"
Last edited by DeafnotDumb : 08-26-2010 at 12:05 PM.