It starts with channel surfing. Four people, their choices made, their minds fixed upon a course of action decide to act. The city was broken, a dying giant, thrashing as it was brought to the ground. Gotham had always had a seedy reputation, but now, in this time and place, gangs and violence and corruption were at an all-time high. Newspapers and muckrakers seized upon the city, ironically calling it “The Gotham Renaissance,” the epoch of organized crime in the country.

And as the players sit in front of screens, they flick through the channels, as they wait for the night.

It’s going to be a full moon tonight, ladies and gentlemen, with lows in the…//…Come with me if you want to live…//…The latest Bank robbery has the Federal government up in arms; District Attorney Harvey Dent has accused the First Bank of Gotham of aiding and abetting criminals, and of money laundering. This robbery has been the six this year…//…That’s all folks!...//…Mayor Oswald Cobblepot savagely attacked the mob during a press conference, and has announced the formation of a new anti-Mob unit. Cobblepot himself has been accused of Mob connections, most recently during the…//…Turning to the financial sector, Wayne Enterprises resisted the latest attempt at a hostile takeover by the Metropolis-based LexCorp, announcing their new Chairman and CEO today, one Ra’s Al-Ghul…

The headlines were useless. Carefully scripted to appear sensational, and yet simultaneously vague enough that nobody could do a thing to stop the events. The crawl across the bottom of the screen, however, told a different story. Three cops injured in raid at The Signal. The Signal was a known to be a favorite hangout of Carmine Falcone’s men. And the police department was, for the most part, bought and paid for by Falcone. Very interesting. Worth investigating, even.

Katherine Walker

Watching tv in the break room of the old building that your precinct was housed in, Ms. Walker knew exactly which cops were involved. Gordon, Bullock, and Montoya. And almost on cue, enter Detective Gordon, dressed as usual in his horrible throwback of a trenchcoat and glasses. His arm was in a cast, and there were several horrible looking bruises on his face. Typical Gordon. Always trying to do the right thing. Even if it killed him.
He grunts a greeting as he fumbles at the coffee machine.