Gotham: Year One

[doliest]

Walker
Walker slid into the car, not recognizing that it might be a trap. “Who?” He was simply happy to get somewhere on time. Hopefully the rest of the job would go as easy.

[industrious]

Cab

"No clue. Nice jacket. Young guy. Good taste in drinks. What do I care, I got paid cash up front."

The man has one of those old-fashioned golfer's caps and a tan canvas jacket. He's chewing on a toothpick as he talks; furthermore, he's got a heavy Brooklyn accent.

"Now where you wanna go, guy? Because I still got other customers to drive, and I wanna clock out my shift in time for a patty melt at the diner."

James Gordon

"Soon as you get those papers to Records, I can. And I did say it was your choice. I'm trusting you to help clean up our police department. Try not to break it."

[doliest]

Walker
He considers slowly, he could either try again at the restaurant, or go again to the police station. Both could be attempted again at any point. What time was it? "What time is it?"

[industrious]

Cab

"Round about four-thirty."

[DeafnotDumb]

"Yes." Katherine replied without a second thought. "Of course I'll do it. Could hardly do a worse job than the people already in there, could I?"

Katherine paused uncomfortably, and then with a long uneasy motion unwound her shoulder and motioned back at the cells. "What are we gonna do about the crook in there? I don't know if I've got anything on him, but it ain't right letting him go, Gordon, it ain't right." The policewoman's face became cold and hard. "He killed my friends, Gordon, and I don't know how you feel about that, but I know you understand."

[industrious]

Gordon

He nods. He knows. He understands.

"Plea bargain. Five years for possession of an illegal firearm, in exchange for all the information he has on the Mob. And then we send the ones truly responsible away for life."

Records Department

The department is, of course, underfunded and understaffed. The sole cop on duty, a very dry civil servant-type by the name of Temple Fugate, points Katherine in the direction of the necessary rows for filing them.

"I cannot take you there myself, Detective Walker. Someone must man the desk at all times. And there is nobody else present in this Department to do so."

Thank God she wasn't working under or with him, that's for sure.

The shelves are long and go back for what seem to be for ages. Boxes of old case records and resumes fill each row. The silence would be horrible, creepy...deafening.

But the place isn't empty. Katherine can hear the rustle of paper further back. Someone's here. Someone who shouldn't be.

[doliest]

Walker
"Police Station. Back." He had already formulated a basic plan to figure out who had registered that complaint. It wasn't a particularly good one, but he needed that information for when he met with Falcone.

[industrious]

((DeafNotDumb can't post, but I got PMed Katherine's response))

Katherine looked around the room. The place was every bit as dusty and dull as you'd expect it to be, probably due to the little obsessive-complusive that ran this thing. As least she could trust that the records here wouldn't be messed with - the little berk would more likely shoot himself in the head than allow that to happen.

Also, Temple Fugate? She knew that little enough of her latin, and if these little jokes didn't stop mounting up she'd start hitting someone until they stopped. Something was odd here, ever since she got all those costumed freaks and men of clay into her own goddamn life like no one's bussiness.

Katherine is about to try and figure where to place her file and get out of here when she catches the sound of papers. Nobody's supposed to be down here, and Katherine's hardly known a cop who didn't arrive in records with the sole purpose of fixing evidence or having a read-through of files for information to sell. And subtly isn't her strong point, either.

Cane in hand, Katherine snapes "Who's there?" and darts towards the sound.

[industrious]

Records Department

A figure pops out from behind one of the corners, surprising Katherine. Her stick slips on a smooth patch of concrete, and she tumbles to the floor.

"Hi! Sorry about that!"

The hand that reaches out to help Katherine back to her feet is pale, with smooth perfect skin. She follows the hand back to its owner, and sees a young woman-no older than her early twenties, she's sure of it.

She's short, maybe 5'2 at the most, and slim-petite, is the word Katherine's mind dredges up. She has the kind of body models would die for, perfectly proportioned, with just the right amount of curves. She has shoulder-length black hair, impossibly smooth and silky-looking that it seems to reflect the dim light, and her eyes are that same exact color and shade. It had to be contacts, or colored, or something, but it wasn't. She knew it wasn't. She was just that...naturally gorgeous. It was in her posture, that knowledge and confidence that comes only from one's view that this was natural, that this was right, that there was no need to make any changes.

Her clothing is relatively simple. A tight black tank top. Tight black leather pants, and a wide black belt with silver studs. A matching bracelet on her left wrist. Around her neck on a silver chain is a weird, cross-like symbol; the top portion of the cross replaced by a narrow oval. And on her right eye, she's drawn an small, elegant swirl.

"You're a police officer, aren't you! That's great! I'm looking for my brother...can you help me?"

And, Katherine notes, an excessively perky, cheerful voice.

Police Station, Back

"Sure thing, boss."

The taxi weaves in and out of traffic, ignoring red lights, pedestrians, and occasionally, Walker suspects, the laws of physics. He's definitely from New York.

In spite of the man's driving, or more probably, because of it, they make their way to the station in very good time.

"Here you are, boss. I get 100 up front, 100 after I get back to the club. Have a good day!"

The door slams shut, and the cab speeds off into the late afternoon.

[doliest]

Walker
He begins checking the back of the building for any entrances, something he could make his way in through.

Spoiler

Show

Search- (1d20)[11]

[industrious]

Police Back Entrance

It's a police station. The problem isn't so much finding a way in, as finding a way in without being spotted by a camera. Unfortunately, Walker can't find a spot the cameras have missed.

[doliest]

Walker
Walker sighs, he'd have to do this in a less than subtle way, then. He didn't like the idea of hurting actual servants of good...and he wasn't planning on it...but he'd have to keep them distracted, or at least unaware of his existience. He raises his gun and fires at the nearest camera.

Spoiler

Show

(1d20+9)[12]

[industrious]

Firing a gun near a police station...not the smartest thing to do. Within five seconds, alarms begin to blare, and at least ten officers now have their weapons pointed at Walker.

"Don't Move!"

One of them has a megaphone, in addition to his revolver. Which looked far too massive to be standard issue.

"You're surrounded by armed bastards! Get on the ground, now!"

[DeafnotDumb]

"Who the hell are you?" Katherine grasped for the nearby wall and slumped on it hard, taking wincing swearing breaths as she tried to ignore the complaints coming from her foot.

The cop takes a better look at the girl, and tries not to hate her. It's not just how she is plain but stunningly good-looking, but how goddamn comfortable she is in it: the strange clothes, the easy smile, friendly face and the whole bloody goddamn lot of her pose and mannerisms basically screams out that here is someone open and friendly and cheerful. It's quite hard to be objective next to something like that.

And for some reason, Katherine is feeling very, very young when standing next to this woman.

Katherine glares down at the girl and tries not to feel intimidated. "What the hell are you expecting to find back here, anyway?" She looks around for a place to put her files as she speaks. "That's goddamn suspicious, you know that."

A twinge in her leg tells her she's not moving easily for a while, so it looks like she's stuck here with Miss Prettygirl and her missing whatever. Katherine grumbles to herself before sighing and looking at the woman. "Look, kid, I need something more than that. Tell me something about your brother - his name, when you saw him, at least what he looks like, for christ'ssake."

[industrious]

Records Department

Without warning, she steps forward, and hugs Katherine. It only lasts a second before she steps back.

"You sound like you needed a hug. And let's see...I don't really know his name at the moment, since he loves to collect them...mine's Didi, if you need it...and he's got pale skin-usually, really thick black hair-again, usually, and he loves to dress in dark clothing that makes him look as if he's angry at the world or something. Oh, and he has a face that looks like a lemon. All sour and arrogant and everything."

She purses her lips, squints fiercely and disdainfully at Walker. The image looks more ridiculous than arrogant.

"And I'm sorry I was back here. But I thought that this was the Records department, so you guys had records of everything, but you don't, and I haven't seen him in such a long time..."

She sits down on the floor, looking like she's about to cry. And seeing somebody whose body language normally screams out cheerful and happy look gloomy isn't good at all.

"...he's my little brother, you know? I mean, I came to Gotham looking for him, here on my one day off. One day out of the whole year. And I don't know what's happened to him, or even if he's here."

[doliest]

Walker
He nods, dropping his gun. He needed a way into the station. They had offered one, though it was more round-a-bout than he had originally intended. He needed that information if he was going to make his next move.

[industrious]

((DeafNotDumb is having filter problems again. I'll make my own post in a few hours))

Katherine Walker

Katherine isn't good at dealing with hugs.

"Um-uh.. can you..."

By the time she's managed to utter those words, the girl has already managed to disentangle herself from the policewoman and started talking about her brother, and tries not to think of herself when the girl comments on a face like a lemon - not because it reminds her of herself, of course. And there's this glimmer of recognition at the dark hair and white skin, as if it's something she's seen a long time ago.

Then the girl's sitting on the floor and Katherine finds that she's even worse with crying that she is with hugs, and tries her feeble best to reassure the woman. "So... don't - look, it's.. oh for ****'s sake get up, you goddamn silly little girl." She snaps, her thin patience already worn away. She almost immediately feels guilty.

She sighs. "Look, right. Just get up, okay? I think - think - I can do something, because I seem to remember a little about this guy, like I met him in a.. dream or..." The policewoman trails off, not sure what made her say that, before starting again. "Missing persons is a goddamn complicated and stupid affair where they put all the stupid cops. We don't even know if he's in the city, which is goddamn dumb, but I may have a few tricks or leads to try on you."

"Just... come on and don't cry, okay? ****'s sake."

[industrious]

Police Station

The officers swarm Walker, kicking the gun away from him, while they pat him down for any other weapons. Finding his other gun, they confiscate it as well.

A few kicks while he's down, and Walker is read his Miranda rights, and sent to a cell. Which is shared by another, Italian-looking man in the tattered and burnt remains of what once was a fairly sharp suit.

Records Department

"I'm...*hic*...sorry."

She trembles for a moment, gets herself under control.

"I'm not used to feeling like this. Being human. All these organs and hormones, flowing through me like water through a hose...I don't know how the rest of you cope."

She picks herself up, and once more perks up at Walker's words. Honestly, it's as if the girl's bi-polar. Which would explain a bit, in the Detective's mind.

"Really? Thank you! Then he is in the city! Somewhere. I've only got a few hours left, so I can't talk much, but this is good news...great news. He's in the city. Shouldn't be too hard to find. Right?"

Obviously, because a city of over 1 million people was easy to comb through. The girl was way too disconnected with reality to be sane. But before Katherine can say anything of the sort (albeit with a bit more kindness and gentleness), Didi is hugging her again-far too tightly, honestly for someone so short and skinny, she had a pair of arms-and dashes out of the Records Department.

"Thanks Officer Walker! See you later!"

A minute later, Katherine realizes that she wasn't wearing her name badge.

[doliest]

Walker
Walker leans back in his cell. They would have to interrogate him soon. That was what he was counting on, frankly. He looks at his cellmate-he'd need quite to focus and let God tell him what he needed to know. Needed to make sure this man was quite, "Name?"

[DeafnotDumb]

"What the he - wait!" Katherine calls after the girl, but by now it's far too long and she's been past gone and Katherine feels a little bit stupid at yelling something into an empty records department.

Well, let that stupid insane girl go get herself killed wandering the streets of Gotham looking for a brother that wasn't there. Go let her. Katherine had enough of costumed freaks and strange dead men and police, goddamn police and crooks.

Well, that was it, she guessed. Time now that she'd let that from her system to find a place to put the bloody file. Katherine looked at her hand and then at the system around her, trying to figure where to put the bloody thing.

Goddamn paperwork. Couldn't even get a thing done without it.

[Terron]

"You were the one shooting at the camera?" Luigi chuckles. "Luigi, you can call me Lu. What about you? What were you doing inside the station ah?"

[industrious]

Katherine Walker

Fugate was a pain in the ass, but he knew how to keep things organized. Finding the correct place to file the paperwork was easy, once Walker took her mind off her strange guest.

When she returns to Gordon's office, she finds that the man's left-for physical therapy, according to Bullock.

"Now then," he mutters, sitting down at his desk, and poking at his computer's power button. "Let's find us the Smiler."

[doliest]

Walker
"Getting caught." He's calm, leaning against the wall. "Here for?"

[DeafnotDumb]

katherine looks out at the room's exit, presumably where Gordon has gone. "He should probably stop going out on his own. I can handle myself, but the Smiler jumps him again? Doubt it."

"So, what do we know?" Katherine asks, setting down her own stick and supporting herself with the desk. "Other than he's insane and likes arson and drawing out and attacking small kids?"

"Oh, and I remember one thing. he's got this placard - rather funny - on the back of his black van. 'The Police Never Think It's Funny As You Do.' One website sells them, one of a kind. Could have a look at it, customer-list style."

[industrious]

Bullock

"Then let's do it."

He motions for Katherine to take a seat at the desk next to him.

Spoiler

Show

Make appropriate checks, as needed. Bullock will be using Aid Another, so give yourself a +2 bonus.

[DeafnotDumb]

"Goddamn computers." Mutters Katherine. "let's hope I can do something with them."

Spoiler

Show

Gather Information: +9 for the skill, + 2 for the assist. (1d20+11)[19]

Disable Device if hacking (such as into customer list) is needed: (1d20+14)[27]

[Terron]

"As usual, being in the wrong place at the wrong time and saying the wrong things. I saved Gordon's life and then they charge me with ilegal posesion og a fireweapon. Then some police lady comes here and charge me with some murder and attempts to shoot me." Luigi turns and points to the bullet hole in the wall. "See? And now I'm waiting. I hope the shooting will take me out of here soonish." the italian man leans over the wall. "Now tell me, why did you wanted to get caught? Surely it wasn't to hear my life's story."

[doliest]

Walker
"Get inside." Walker leans back against the wall, "A few minutes of quiet. Acceptabl?"

[industrious]

Police Station

After an hour of horrendously difficult work, and several phone calls to the company that owned the website, Katherine finally obtains a list of all their Gotham-area customers. The sticker looked new, so she limits her search to the past six months; there are five names on the list:

G Altus
R Gomez
W Milverton
H Quinzel
P Zyx

At some point while the two of you were working, Montoya returns, her clothing immaculate but her body practically reeking of afterglow.

"Hey...sorry about that..."

Shaking her head, she sits down at the furthest desk.

"What do we have to do?"

"We've got a list of all the bumper sticker customers, but we still need to get the Mob guy spilling everything he knows. Still have to take on the Mob, after all."

"You and I should be able to do that together, then. Walker, you mind checking out the names?"

Holding Cells

The sound of feet descending the steps into the holding cells indicates that you are shortly about to have company. Indeed, both the Latina-looking woman, and the whale of a cop emerge from the bottom of the stairs.

"Both of you, hands behind your head, spread your legs, and touch your forehead to the wall."

[Terron]

Luigi complies. Not that he has any other choice. He looks interested however, at the new cell partner. He was puzzling, and whatever he wanted to actually do inside the police station was still a mystery. But perhaps, hopefully, it might get him a chance to escape...