Ongoing Games (In-Character)Play-by-post games are going on in this forum as we speak (well, read). All threads on this board are actual games, so please, only post on a thread if you are a player of that game.
OOC comments belong in the OOC thread. That's why its there.
Walker
He laughs and sips his scotch.
"Another of his appointments, then? The Commissioner is rather fond of doing this. You aren't the first, not by far."
His expression turns more serious.
"He isn't going to see you, though. He'll claim to have no idea, then have you arrested for disturbing the peace, panhandling, trespassing, and other charges. You get send away for at least 10 years."
Montoya and Bullock
Bullock is still glaring at Montoya, but she ignores it.
"He's Italian, staying at the The Logs. We've got his weapon; .45 revolver. Serial numbers have been filed off; probably Mafia. He thinks he's charming, too. I've caught him in at least two lies, so obstruction of justice, and we're searching his place now-with his consent. Maybe we find something more. We're also running his prints; we'll get those back within the hour."
She looks appreciative.
"Good work, Walker. Nice instincts."
...Take a look at the lawman, beating up the wrong guy. Oh man! Wonder if he'll ever know...
Montoya curses and flips open her cell, moving away.
"I need to take this."
From their distance, Katherine can only hear snatches of the conversation.
"I told you not to call me at work...I'm in the station, dammit...she's with me...you're kidding...Right. fine. I'll be there as soon as I can."
Walker
He sighs, "Should have known. Annoying." He looks at the man sitting in front of him, "You?"
__________________
Doliest's crimes against good taste
Spoiler
An Uwe Boll fan, and proud of it. LONG LIVE THE BOLL!
Also a Michael Bay fan.
Likes Jar Jar
Likes FATAL..... No, I'm sorry, but no. Everything else on this list? I like, but while I've done many horrible things in my life, I WILL NOT claim to like FATAL.
"I'd love to help you knock that guy down a peg, I really would, but there is nothing I can do right now. Life's a race, homeless man. And I intend to win it. Can't stop to help people still stuck at the starting line. I'd leave if I were you. Before someone else finds you."
He stands back up, and disappears back into the main room.
Walker
He idly considers finding the commissioner anyway for...different reasons, but decides instead to wait there and think for a moment. He needed to save the church. He needed the commissioner for that. On the other hand, he couldn't trust the commissioner. He sits in the corner, thinking for a moment before resolving to leave the course.
Spoiler
(1d20+13)[15]
__________________
Doliest's crimes against good taste
Spoiler
An Uwe Boll fan, and proud of it. LONG LIVE THE BOLL!
Also a Michael Bay fan.
Likes Jar Jar
Likes FATAL..... No, I'm sorry, but no. Everything else on this list? I like, but while I've done many horrible things in my life, I WILL NOT claim to like FATAL.
"Thanks. You're not bad, yourself." Katherine smiles back at the policewoman, or rather the first genuine compliment she's recived for years.
...Take a look at the lawman, beating up the wrong guy. Oh man! Wonder if he'll ever know...
Katherine pauses in mid-turn, her mind shaking. Messages in ringtones, strange dreams, a fear of sand... such things weren't right. And she'd never known a ringtone to start anywhere but the start of the song, while she remembered those lyrics down near the middle...
Life was getting too strange. All the freaks and crooks and cops and ****. Frankly, she needed a distraction for a moment and Montoya was on the phone, which left only -
Katherine glanced from the policewoman on the phone, then to Bullock, and smirked at him. "That's why your pranks ain't working, Bullock: it looks like she's got herself a guy of her own. Figures, huh? You've spending all that effort while you and me have been waiting around years. What a joke."
"Well, get me to where this guy is. I walked all the way over here and I'm gonna see some outcome for it."
Walker
He sighs, rubbing a bruise. So...he was out of ways to save the church. Hm. He still had time until Falcone would eat again. He heads back to the police station. He was going to simply have to find out who complained-and from there he could figure out how deep this went.
__________________
Doliest's crimes against good taste
Spoiler
An Uwe Boll fan, and proud of it. LONG LIVE THE BOLL!
Also a Michael Bay fan.
Likes Jar Jar
Likes FATAL..... No, I'm sorry, but no. Everything else on this list? I like, but while I've done many horrible things in my life, I WILL NOT claim to like FATAL.
"Fine." Katherine shrugs and walks towards the holding cells, hoping that she isn't betraying her impatience: Bullock was such a blockhead that it probably wouldn't matter anyway, but right now she felt like she was signaling her intentions to the entire world.
The holding cells were pretty much empty, and anyway it wouldn't have been a problem to figure out where to go: there was no way she'd forget whose face it was, not just a day or two after she'd met him. Katherine silently walked over to the front of Luigi's cell, and slowly unsheathed her sword from her stick. The blade was unpolished and failed to catch the light in any dramatic manner, but nevertheless it had obviously been looked after. Someone had wanted the edge to be sharp.
"Make a noise, and I'll kill you." The policewoman put her left hand in her pocket and cradled the butt of the gun as she took it out. "Just one simple question, for now." The gun was pointing at Luigi, and Katherine's face was not reassuring. "You murdered one of my friends two years ago. A 45. to the brainpan. Who was it? Who was it? Why did you do it, you ****ing bastard?"
Luigi is taken aback by the sudden actions of the woman. "I... I understand" he answers to the request of silence. "Well... Truth is... more complicated than a single phrase. If you have a moment, I'll explain." Assuming she nods or something, the gangster will go on explaining. "At this point I think you know who am I: My name is Luigi D'amato, I was the godfather of Gotham's Italian mafia a few months ago. Your friend, well, I don't know his name. I killed many people when I was leading the mafia. He probably was investigating some of our illegal operations, or tried to arrest one of my men. It is not something I feel proud of, and I'm looking forward to amend all the pain I've caused. That's why I was there to help you with the commissioner, even when it were his men that killed me..." Luigi will continue explaining if not interrupted.
"Who." Said Katherine. "Who. I want to know who. I want to know which one of my friends you killed, you bastard, or I'll kill you too. Can't you remember? Can't you come up with anything? If you don't shut up and start talking about something I want to hear you're going to be a dead man!"
"A bullet in his brainpan? Black hair, clear eyes, blue perhaps. He had a beard. I remember now. He was undercover, investigating one of the selling spots of illegal substance we had. His partner sold him out for money, we searched him, made him confess and killed him. Then we killed his partner. But I don't know his name." explains Luigi, hpoing the more direct approach pleased the woman more than his life story.
"Alright, no problem. Thanks, have a great day!" he says cheerfully, leaving the office with a pleasant look on his face.
I guess its time to go back to school, he thinks.
Spoiler
As soon as he can find a place away from prying eyes, Door will remorph into a nondescript student about Barbara's age, and try to just blend in with the crowd; whats another kid in a school? He'll then try to find Barbara and keep an eye on her, just in case she's still in danger. While he's at it, he'll look around for maybe a computer lab or something; he might as well try to hack that website, using the school as his IP address to throw off security! He brought his hacking tools with him, I think... I think I bought it with equipment.
Pretty much using Skill Mastery to take 10 on all my deception skills; school security guards, kids, and teachers shouldn't be that difficult to fool.
"Partner?" The gun lowers an inch before rising quickly up again, though with much less confidence. It's quite obvious she's briefly lost the initiative. I - what - who? Who did he contact, why? I will know how to face back at this bastard, or the next shot goes through your brain."
"Giveme a breake wouldya? It's hard to remember all those names!..." outbursts Luigi. "...I think his last name was Peterson... Yes, Norman Peterson. He wanted money. They all want money."
"Norman? Norman Peterson? I don't believe you." The ashen white of her face tells Luigi otherwise, though. "He sold us out for a bit of money? I know we all took some on the side, but that's all it took from him? A bit of money? For us?" The policewoman tried to swallow the catch in her voice as she screwed her eyes shut. "The bastard. The goddamn ****ing bastard."
Katherine's hands carefully gripped the gun and forcefully lifted it in a more threatening direction and steadied her breathing into a smooth angry beat as her eyes bored into Luigi's face. "You killed my friend and the guy I wanted to kill, too. I don't suppose shooting you'll be as good as shooting Norman, but maybe it'll do. What do you think?"
"I think you'll risk too much, just for shooting at me, when you have a lot of work to do with more dangerous people than me. I told you, I'm not that man any more, you can believe me or not. I've not lied to you, when I could. My actions speak for me. True me and the other gangsters killed your friend, and did many other horrible things, but hey, you are about to do the same. It would lower you to my level. At the very least you can rest assured that Pearson was fish food." Well that last part was not so good. But how knows? Perhaps this crazy woman likes black jokes.
Being in high school again was...weird, to say the least. And while the teachers actually gave a damn about the students here, it was definitely a trip worthy of Alice. The cliques, much looser and more implied than on stage or screen. The awkward conversations, the masses of people trying something, anything just to fit in...
At least Barbara seemed to be doing fine. Mostly, anyway.
Finding a computer lab was easy. Disabling the security on it was even simpler. Hagen quickly brings up a set of all the stickers ordered in the past six months. Narrowing the list to Gotham addresses gave him five names. One of which gives him pause. His therapist's name. Harleen Quinzel.
"I don't care! Two years! Two years alone!"" Katherine is yelling as she finally breaks down, her voice almost snarling as her face goes wild and her eyes are misting from holding back angry tears."They were my friends! They were my goddamn friends and you killed them! You had no goddamn right! No right!"
In the blaze of anger her finger tightens on the trigger and the gunshot is like an thunderbolt in the enclosed space. Katherine stumbles back from the weapon like some rank amateur, surprised by the noise and sound and smell: there is the sharp whiff of cordite in the room and will be for quite some time.
The policewoman stares from her gun to Luigi and to where the shot landed, embedded in the wall a good meter away from her target. "****! Goddamn ****. Can't even aim a goddamn gun." Defeated, she slumps down onto the floor as she continues staring at the gun. "What goddamn good am I?"
Luigi was frozen, a drop of cold sweat rolling down from his head. The bullet passed right next to his head, he heard the typical "singing" of the proyectile. Up to now, he was sort of resigned: He would either get shot and be relieved from the guilt, or not get shot and have an opportunity to make things right. A win-win situation right? Anyway, he was glad to walk away with his life.
"Shut up, Bullock, shut up." Katherie fumbles for her swordstick and slides it back into the cane, her fingers crasping the familiar metal like a lifesaver. "I don't need your help."
But she doesn't quite refuse the helping hand with enough of her usual harshness, and once standing drops the gun back into her pocket with not-at-all trembling fingers, not looking at Luigi "Let's just get me out of here, please."
Bullock leads her out of the holding cells, and into one of the desk seats. Fumbling around in a small fridge, he comes up with a bottle, gently placing it in
Katherine's hands.
"Here. It's Montoya's; some fruity microbrew she swears by. Won't ever let me touch them. But..."
"Thanks." Insticts still there, Katherine sniffs the bottle before she drinks it, and finds it... well, interesting. Not quite the drink she'd expect Monoya to have, but she likes it. Emboldened, she takes something more like her usual swing and smacks it back down her throat, wincing at the passage of alcolhol. "Bullock, you may be a bastard, but you're not a ****ing bastard. I guess you have it where it counts."
Staring at the wall, Katherine lets out a small breath and swears softly. "What the hell do we do now? I just shot at a prep, but it doesn't feel right leaving him there, walking around like he has some right to - goddamn it!" With a burst of anger, Katherine throws the bottle and watches as it spirals and shatters against the cold floor, spilling drink everywhere. She smirks, and then laughs to herself.
"Yeah, that feels better. Least I'm angry at myself, now.So what's next? Paperwork? Throwing in my badge? Your call, detective."
Dear god, he looks awful. Pale skin, bloodshot eyes, and a haggard look on his face. But he's still standing, and despite the medical cane he's currently sporting, doesn't look nearly as bad as he did after the LaTorte Incident.
"What?" One thing about Gordon was that he never gave up. Always had to assume the best, and was far too idealistic, but at least he kept fighting.
"Did you really think that bombing my home would stop me from showing up to my job, Detectives?"
Katherine looks Gordon up and down, taking in the full impact of his appearance, and smirks. "Well, I guess whoever threw the bomb thought you had a sane bone left in your body. That fire probably burnt the last one out." Katherine notices Gordon's cane, and lifts her own in greeting. "And now we match."
"Don't mention that word to me. Promotion's sitting around with paperwork, not out on the streets like my job should be. And who'd give some crazy-ass bitch like me something like that? They'd have to be insane."
There is a pause as Katherine swallows her throat and then her pride. "Is... your kid okay? It was goddamn stupid of me to put you and her in risk like that. I knew there was a hit on me and everything, but I didn't think about that." Katherine laughs again, still a little strung from the stress. "****, I'm apologizing for everything now. What's happening to me?"
"You're getting emotionally invested in people for the first time in a while. Some of us actually might matter to you."
***tard. Naive old ***tard. Let's see if I'd rush into a burning building for him again...oh.
He collapses into a nearby chair as well, absently rubbing one of his legs.
"Different kind of promotion, Walker. Much different."
He lobs an envelope at the detective. And his grin has nothing warm or kind about it.
"Due to some mis-signed forms, a bit of misplaced paperwork, the good Commissioner has somehow decided that putting me in charge of Internal Affairs was a good idea. I'm thinking about putting you in charge of a taskforce. You pick your own men, get your own office..."
Katherine stares at the piece of paper, the words looping around in her head.
Old job. Taskforce. Pick your own men. Pick your own office. Promotion. Bloody promotion.
The first words out of her mouth are "What? How?"
They are quickly followed by a second set as Katherine blinks as another two words link to her mind. "Wait, in charge? Are you insane?"
Then a third idea strikes her. "What about Montoya and Bullock?"
Katherine pauses, grumbles and sighs, placing her heads into her hands and crumpling the paper held there, too confused and surprised for incoherent swearing. "Okay. Answer the second question first, the first question second and the third question third. And don't skimp on the goddamn details. After that, I've got some information to share - there's this building Carmine's gang is moving into in a few days..."
He raises an eyebrow at her...or attempts to, anyway. The white hairless area above his eye.
"I think you said it yourself; that I done have a sane bone in my body. But why you're in charge. That seems obvious. Neither Montoya nor Bullock have anything approaching respect here; you have something outside of our little circle."
Bullock glares at Gordon, but appears to accept the answer. He's not stupid, just not exactly one of the best and brightest. Doggedly determined.
"You also know roughly which cops are the least (or most) corrupt. Offer them a spot; it'll keep them honest. Or honest enough, anyway. 'Course, if you don't want the job, I'll give it to Montoya. The envelope you're holding is all the documents needed to authorize this; already signed and notarized. All you need to do is get them to Records. If you want to."
Walker
A cab pulls up in front of the Saint of Streets, and the window rolls down.
"Hey, man. Get in; some rich dude gave me 200 to get you somewhere."
Katherine looks at Gordon, then at the envelope, and smiles. "Hell, yes. I'd do it for free."
She leans forwards and begins to speak faster and faster as her mouth works to catch up with the speed her mind is moving at. "It's election year, and Dent's running - Dent - and at this time Cobblepot probably won't be wanting attention drawn to him. So he won't like any taskforce kind of thing, but he won't be able to be too obvious about getting rid of us either. Heh."
"Morgan'll be a good choice, just have to keep him interested I can try and get some favors for Major, Pearlman - how far does my choice here go? In practice, I mean, not on paper. Need to know that."
"But I know the perfect place to start. There's this Ra Al-Gul - heh, Ghul - who's about to sell a building of his to Carmine. It'd be a great place for them to set up making drugs. Thing is, the transaction's happening in two days, and I want to get a load of bugs and mikes in there. Can you help?"
Luigi leaned over the wall of his cell. He had something now. The woman detective treid to shoot him. That was on his side, perhaps he could use it to get out of prison!... No, why would they let him go that easily? What? Could he lift charges for attempt of murder? When he confessed he had killed many cops and was the leader of the organized crime in Gotham two years ago? Then again, did she missed on purpose? She was angry, that he knew. But then she was defeated, missing the shot, falling to her knees... If Luigi does something well is reading people. That woman was determined and sure of herself. She thinks nothing escapes her sight, or her intuition. But the betraying of that Norman, she didn't saw it, nor even thought of the possibility. That, the realization that she was not able to protect his friend and that some of whom she considered friends were worst scum than her enemies, that defeated her in that moment, and that's why he's still breathing.
Go figure, telling the truth actually was good for something.
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Re: Gotham: Year One
