L'appel du Vide

June 07, 2015:

Two-Face hires Fracture for a job. Sorry Nightwing! (NSFW for mild/suggestive language and imagery.)



NPCs: Delilah, Samantha, Yin Yang Twins, Enzo


Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

Two-Face stands on a rooftop in one of Gotham's worst neighborhoods, looking out over the city. He has a cigar in his scarred hand, letting the smoke roil into his mouth before blowing twin plumes of dragonsmoke from his nostrils. There's the sound of whimpering from nearby - two of Harvey's thugs, the Ying-Yang twins, obese ex-sumo stuffed into bi-colored suits, dangle a man from the rooftop, one holding each of his ankles.

"Two-Face, I swear to God, I ain't been stealin', I ain't got no reason t'steal, you treat me good, I swear to you, I'm loyal!" he cries.

Harvey's molls lounge idly along the side of the roof, leaning up against a massive air conditioning unit. Samantha and Delilah don't seem too pleased to be up on a roof at this time of night - they'd much prefer the inside of a private club or to be back at Harvey's lair. Not that they'll complain, anymore than they'll complain about the black and white fur coats he has them in. Summer or not, he likes his toys dressed for his pleasing. If they sweat, they sweat.

He's awaiting the arrival of the assassin known as Fracture, having an assignment he'd like to offer her. In the meantime, though, he can take care of some basic business. A crime boss's work is never done.

"See, that's the problem, Enzo. You think you can talk your way out of it. You've always been a good talker. Maybe you should've gone to law school instead. But, see, even if you did, wouldn't do you much good. You might be a good talker, but I'm better. And, even more, I know evidence when I see it. Evidence like the money that's consistently gone missing from your tribute month after month. You pretend just to be short, but I keep closer track than you know. Track of what goes in, what goes out. Track of when some flunkie who oughtta be grateful I pay 'im enough fo feed his face buys himself a car on the black market. You think I'm not gonna notice you got yerself a Porsche, Enzo, even if you put it in a garage halfway across town?"

Harvey tsks, stepping his way until he's standing between the twins, looking down at the man. He draws his coin out of his pocket, letting it roll over his knuckles.

"Oh, Enzo, what'm I gonna do with you?"

She received the call, the time and place to meet, dressed in her usual regalia with no need to hide her face from the onlookers. SHIELD knew who she was, parts of HYDRA, every criminal opposed organization put a face to the ghost in the white mask that was on television.

But not the name. That was her own. That was a name that toppled governments and had ties to Spetnaz and beyond.

There have been little use of clones as of late, for what's a simple mob boss and his goods and a set of guns? She's been shot, stabbed, thrown from high buildings, if you angle yourself right.. those strong legs could take the blow which makes jumping out of helicopters a sinch.

"What. Indeed." The cool soprano nearly sings out, hands tucked within her leather bomber as the fabric that rests upon thick thighs groan with delight. Daggers were embedded, placed within strap upon strap that threatens to kiss the apex of her..

You know..

Hair falls like water along her shoulders, stopping along the middle of her back with loose curls, a dreadlocked braid lined from temple to knot which was formed upon the back of her head. Icy blue eyes stop near the edge of the roof, a quick jump and leap which plants booted heels upon the edge. Teetering towards the darkness below, that point of no return.

"It's.. L'appel du vide." She pauses, looking down. "Call of the void." She turns, balancing herself upon the edge. "Imagine if you did not hang him upside down. And he looks over. The urge to fall or the urge to jump would still be there. The adrenaline would subtly course through his veins, and his brain would assess the situation on whether he should jump.. or should not jump. But this.. this is different." She turns again, a little bend, almost as if it were a dance.

"The call of the void is having a reverse effect, his heart beats, adrenaline flowing and coursing at a high rate. Something deep inside says.. I want to live. But the other part, perhaps is much stronger.. says.. I want to die."

She jumps down from the perch she landed upon, back pressed, hands drawing out a zippo which is flicked in a steady cadence of a calming heartbeat.

"Personally, his affront was his own call to the void. Understand?" Her shoulders shrug lightly, head tilted in a matter-of-factly nature. "You could allow him to live and the call would go unanswered but the temptation will be there and never tested again. Or.. you could allow him to answer the call. Let him knock upon that door with his brains upon the street." She smiles a little towards the twins, they.. weren't her type. No. "I'd choose option number too. Pardon my interruption."

Carry on.

Two-Face watches the woman who's just arrived, recognizing that she must be the very assassin for which he waits. He lets her speak, tapping his cigar momentarily with his free hand. Through it all, Enzo whimpers, not struggling, trying to just stay quiet and hope something in there that might save him. Of course, when she says brains on the street, he panics, "No, no, boss, please, no!"

"SHUT UP!" Harvey shouts, leaning over and flicking his cigar down, the cherry sparking as it bounces off the flunkie's face on its way to tumble to the street.

He rolls his neck for a moment, straightening his tie. "You talk awful pretty for a paid killer. Didn't know poetry was a pre-requisite for the field," he says. "But it isn't about how he feels or what's goin' on inside him. I don't much care what's goin' on inside Enzo, 'cept where my money's concerned. Beyond that, there's only one question and it's a question of justice. Does he deserve to live or die? Well, I don't have an answer for that. But I know someone who does," he says.

He draws out his coin and flips it in the air, the dual heads alternating as the silver dollar spins above, until he snatches it out of the air and slaps it down on the back of his hand. He looks at it for a moment and then tucks it away.

"Enzo, you were one of my favorites. I like you. Everyone makes mistakes. I'd like to give you a second chance," he says.

He draws out his gun and fires two shots right into Enzo's crotch, the twins letting him go as he screams, clutching as his crotch as he tumbles and falls to his death with a loud, wet THUMP on the asphalt below.

"But things didn't fall your way. Maybe in your second life."

A pack of cigarettes were fished from her pocket, freshly bought.. newly opened, the wrapper pulled from it's tops, the tin foil upon the top pulled away and flicked to the side as such. She didn't mind the gravitas, it was actually quite beautiful. The way Two-Face handled business was like those old timey gangsters she saw in movies in Venezuela.

A cigarette was fished out, popped into her lips, lit and inhaled, her eyes drawing towards the sky as she allows the wave of dizziness to take hold. It was her first time indulging, that first hit filling her lungs and allowing her to cough, right in tune to the two shots that were blasted into the mans balls, which sent him carrening down below.

"Poetry wasn't a pre-requisite. Knowing who will be my employer is. We've learned to fit to the tune of their whimsies and cater to them through bullshit. Though, you don't strike me as the type that enjoys nor allows that to fly on first meets on business." She pauses. "Personal.. is another matter."

She turns now, bright eyes alighting upon the scene below, the broken body drawing chills up her spine. The good kind. "Now, gorgeous. At your leisure."

Two-Face straightens his lapels for a moment, his gun interrupting the line of his suit when he first reholsters it. He takes a moment to regard the woman. She looks at him fully, which is a plus in her favor. So many turn away, unable to stomach the sight of his true self, his ruined face even making the occasional newbie sick to their stomach. They usually didn't last very long - Harvey didn't have much patience for people with weak constitutions.

"I don't care about personal. We all got personal, but you can't let it get in the way of what needs to be done. Your reputation says that's what I get when I pay for you. And I always get what I pay for," he says.

The girls come over, one reaching up to straighten his hair, the other getting him a fresh cigarette, the gangster alternating between cigars and cigarettes. Samantha, the albino, looks resentfully at the assassin, wrapping her arms around Harvey's shoulder and clinging to him, her almost anorexic build making her arms frail and thin. Delilah, night-black, has a build that seems to be raw muscle, with broad shoulders and thick legs, her skin gleaming in the flicker of the zippo as she lights Harvey's smoke.

"I'm in the process of expandin' my business. It's a difficult process and I've already got a partner. But there are a few roadbumps along the way, roadbumps I'm tired of runnin' over again and again. I can't be wasting my time to attend to them personally all the time."

"I'm sure you expect me to send you to kill the Batman. And, don't get me wrong, I'd be happy to see that pointy-eared jackass floppin' at my feet. But that…that one really -is- personal, as much as business. But…I don't have time for that right now. I need him distracted. I need him…otherwise occupied.'

"So…he has a whole host of little flunkies. Birds and bats and wannabes in tights. Pick one. Any one ya like."

"And split 'em in half."

Cigarettes, it was something that she didn't have a taste for. Cigars were tried once, but with those, she didn't have to inhale to keep up her front. This was no front either, just a test. To see if she had /that/ sort of constitution to poison herself further. The cigarette was soon flicked off the side, launching into the darkness as she draws herself from her perch, watching for the moment as the man becomes fixed with his women and cigarettes alike.

He just had a cigar before. Possibly cuban. Expensive, she's guessing from the sweet smell that still lingers. His manner of dress, no matter how partiallly ruined was expensive. Darkness and light.

Her kind of guy.

Even as Delilah remained protective over Harvey, his words drew her close enough to breach personal space, her eyes vacant as she tilts her head, one brow risen as she draws in a breath, and lets out a sigh.

Her plate is full.

In between the Winter Soldier and SHIELD, HYDRA and all it entails, the League of Shadows gone dark save for a small few. Ra's al'Ghul being a total dick.. and now this?

What more could a girl ask for?

"Nightwing." She states. "He's made waves with the recent changes in Sandy Hook. I would love to make him a martyr for his causes."

Two-Face chuckles low, his throat eternally half-raw, adding gravel to his once-stentorious voice. He always remembered that, the way the acid felt on the back of his throat, how it burned, the taste of it as it seared the flesh away from the inside of his cheek. He still had a hole there, the sinew half-exposed, stretched over his teeth in an eternal faux-sneer. He draws deeply on his smoke, the girls hanging off his shoulders like the accessories they were.

"Angels of death love goin' after the firstborn, don't they?" he says. "Nightwing it is, then. Spit down the center like a ripe cantaloupe. Don't be afraid to use the big knife," he says.

"Make it noisy. We're long past bein' shy about it - this city's like a shark, it loves the smell of blood. Makes everything run smooth, just grease in the gears. And while Batman's makin' weepy declarations over the body of his boytoy, he doesn't notice the ground under his feet shiftin'."

"Two mil for the kill. I'll make it four if you actually split 'im in two, nice and clean."

Veruca wasn't disgusted in the slightest. She held whatever contents there were in her stomach and kept a look at him within his.. open eye socket. He was cut from a different cloth, while burned.. he still walked.. talked.. his monstrosity open. Though, there were men who looked like gods who were the bigger monsters hiding in beautiful skin.

Her jaw tenses as she turns away from him then, fingers clasping against the edge of the rooftop, diving into the pool of blood that was left to linger and slip along the edges as she leans over yet again. "First born.. second born.. third…"

She glances towards him, earnest in her honesty. "I'd rather see them all burn." Even though her whims are misguided, she spoke the truth. They were a family, and just like hers? It can be taken away. Plus two million? The things she could buy.

"You have yourself a deal, Two-Face." Her position changes, stepping right in front of that personal circle, the women hanging upon his arms were treated as such, accessories, no means for her to pay respect nor homage to. Slender hand strikes out in a fluid motion, fingers wriggling in patience for a shake.

"And because I like you? I'll bring you his heart. On ice."

Two-Face snorts and reaches out, taking her hand in his, his clean hand. The remnants there remain, of the handsome District Attorney, the man that Gotham had loved. Some said Harvey Dent was the most popular man in the city, the most admired and even, perhaps, the most feared, the only rival Batman had once upon a time. All of that was before, of course. He was still feared, but not in the same way. Now his visage was not just a horror, but a reminder, a disturbing totem of the evil that lays in the hearts of good men.

"So long as you filet it into proper halves," he says.

With the deal made and the hand shook, Enzo disposed of, Two-Face leans over and kisses each of his girls on the cheek. "Now, with business attended, we have the rest of the night for pleasure. Yin, Yang, go and get the cars going. You're welcome to join us, if you have a taste for it. I brought in a pair of Russian gymnasts for tonight's entertainment, they're…somethin' special," he grins.

The hand was taken and squeezed ever so slightly, her hand dropping off to reach within her pockets, tossing the pack of cigarettes over the edge. Yeah, she was done with that little stint, and it only took her five minutes. "Proper halves it is."

The deal was struck with the squeeze of his hand and a promise, a slight smirk drawn upon her features as she tilts her head towards the offer. "Perhaps. I am a bit hungry.." She murmurs, turning a bit aside to allow them to make the first moves off the roof. Never keep your back open. "Now.. when you say for tonights entertainment…"

"..Do you mean…"

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