Heir to the Throne

July 30, 2015:

Two-Face comes to the Tin Roof with important information

Tin Roof Club

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

It was a dark and stormy night. Dark and stormy nights run in spades when it comes to Gotham, though the weather outside the doors of the Tin Roof does not set the tone for the meeting that was to come. It was empty so much as a few stragglers here and there. A woman, an employee of the Tin Roof in the booth with a man snuggled up and napping away last nights festivities, the bar tender polishing down the few glasses that he had left before he takes his leave to the upper quarters in which he calls his sanctuary. The floor being swept up of glitter and streams of paper and napkins with kisses and numbers that were discarded for the 'Next Best Thing' (tm).

It's been a while. Melody now resurfacing back into the Tin Roof to do her usual, fortifying defenses, upgrading systems, locked away in the server room by her lonesome as she keeps an eye upon what is going on below. Those few stragglers that were left behind were kept a close eye upon, there was no need to step behind the bar to steal cash from the till, and there was not an olio spread upon the tables in the VIP section for them to partake of. Sushi, that's what it usually was. Anything to feed the Cat.

"He's supposed to be here in a couple of minutes." Rant's voice is heard over the comms. Where ever Catwoman was, she was reached, and obviously listening. "I suppose I could come down when I'm do-.." Bzzt. Stupid fingers. "..done here."

Two-Face arrives with a minimum of fanfare, providing the requisite passwords (although his face should be enough identification for anybody). He doesn't allow for a patdown, but he does leave most of his detail outside, leaving him largely alone except for his molls and a couple of bodyguards, his In-Betweeners flanking him in perfect symmetry. They know they have to measure their steps just so - he doesn't have much tolerance for failure or disruption.

"Good evening, ladies," he smiles, "Lovely weather we're having," he says as he looks around, casually rolling his coin over his knuckles, "So glad we could have this little get together."

Early mornings are not something Selina does, but ever since she got Ana from the Obelisk Bane in Gotham most mornings are filled. Ana sits at a back booth, shielded from the remnants of the night prior by a velvet curtain partially drawn back, kicking her tiny legs back and forth as she slurps spoonfuls of cereal into her mouth, milk dribbling down while sparkling shoes take her to Neverland, or whatever is going through her mind as she hums and basks with fingers weaving and twisting through long wavy mass of hair.

Mornings are private, and those remaining who know nothing of the truth behind the /Cat/ are being picked up by bodyguards and hauled out to cabs to be taken to addresses on their ID's, a fee withdrawn of course. When Two-Face walks in though, the game changes and even the tender is ushered off as the noise level is nil right now, concealing nothing of their dealings to ears, and if she can avoid casualties, she will.

There is not Cat here now, no Leonne maitree, the woman that rises from the back booth and closes the velvet curtain to Ana just after Rodaga slips past is Selina. Short cropped black hair, sone intentionally dishevelled, emerald gaze cut from the dark lining of feline kohl'd contours, tilting the edges just-so and making them narrow even moreso then wha they do with that heralded smile of flashing ivories and not-yet-caffeinated threats (undertoned). Trouser slacks hang loose from thighs down, but contour sinewed thighs and curvature of hips, pinching at the waist for the high hike to rib cage where the half-unbuttoned white blouse picks up.

One hand extends to Two-Face, manicured nails to a point flashing the silver sheen when wrist cocks to take Harvey's own.

"Ever a pleasure Harv… Make yourself at home." She says with a flurry of wrist to the varying empty seats. He had his choice, as usual.

What marks the arrival of Two-Face's vehicles and entourages marks the ending of her late night work. Melody resurfaces from the room, a deep inhale taken as she lets out a breath, the chill of the air illuminating the oxygen that was exhaled from her lungs. She rounds the corner and remains at the top of the stairs, her hands pressed against the banisters as she takes a solid lean, forward, then back, forward again to will herself down the stairs to put on that happy and pep filled demeanor.

"Hey gorgeous." She calls out, slowly taking one step after another in her descent down the stairs. She remembered that he wanted a meet; but never really inquired of what. But there was a moment of relief in knowing that she'd be here at this moment. Perhaps it was something good.. or something bad. Something she could put her skills to use or something that would make her sad..

She stops, her gaze falling towards the sky as one hand lifts to smack against her face. She just mentally rhymed.

Sure fire sign that she was going crazy cakes.

Two-Face takes Selina's hand, bending down and kissing the feline's knuckles, wary as ever at how quickly those polished nails can turn into claws. He flicks his eyes up to Melody as the hacker arrives, his look long as he can see that something's changed about the girl, some of the shyness either bled or shaken out of her. Interesting. But, on the other hand, nobody knew better than Harvey that people often had two sides. It was interesting to see Melody's other face.

He takes a seat, flicking his fingers to dismiss his entourage back to their separate corners, keeping the circle relatively intimate. The information he had to relay was simple but personal. "I'm sure there are some pleasures better than others. In this case, I come as a bearer of news. Bad or good, not really my business. Could go either way. Can't everything?" he says.

Of course, it wasn't Harvey's message to give, but Rex wasn't nearly as discreet as he thougth he'd been. The sentimental claptrap in the letter had gotten a few laughs out of Two-Face, even as Rex's lieutenant had choked to death on his own blood while Harvey read it over his body. "It's a mingling of business and personal, though, so I hope all the errant ears have been properly plugged…or cut off."

The kiss upon her hand brings a light quirk to one corner of her lips, though a brow rises as he does, the suspicion evident with the light lift of chin in the process. Harvey is one person to never underestimate and when he flaunts the nicities there is another side. Always.

Mel's arrival does get a flick of gaze, the girl has been taking changes and making curve balls, she will blame the Shady one for this that she once had attachment to and through whispers head of his departure. She could be there for her, but would leave her to her own course, even if it is a crash one. Selina will pick her up or won't, it depends on the detours she opts into. Needless to say, she is being carefully watched, even now.

"Oh, they have been. I tend to know better with my people or the casualties." Considering this war has raged and the people not meant to die have managed to not push up daisies, she's doing good. The rest is salt for the earth.

"Business and personal. Do you intend to ask for my dear Rant's hand?" A small quirk of a smile as she moves to a booth and slides within, leaning over with outtstretched hand, pausing… And then patting that seat.

"Hopefully there is business with pleasure. I like to keep things on the happy side." Though as she says that she leans forward and the smile hidden behind interlocking fingers seems to bring shark-like qualities to those eyes.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs and out into the main area of the club, Rant follows along easily, taking up a seat across from Harvey with a slide back of the chair with her foot and an easy settle down upon it's perch. She remains silent, really. There was no commentary for her to add, only a slight grump and a fiddle with her fingers to rub and ring through the minor shock that ejected from her tips.

"Marriage is a contractural and unnecessary engagement unless the insurance companies refuse to acknowledge life partners who do or do not live together." Medical bills, at one point hers nearly had her parents swimming, if not for the success of the research that Papa Kenway inflicted upon her. There was a moment where she glances up towards the ceiling, each camera mentally accessed and drawn about the club, her eyes flitting back and forth, gaze falling downward just as the camera in the corner angles itself just right. Outside? Dead. Most are already at home and asleep. There was no worries of eavesdroppers there.

"I can say that we're clear." A beat. "Though if I need to step away?" She leaves that one up in the air.

Two-Face looks over at Melody and grins crookedly, "Marriage is pretty unnecessary in plenty of ways - ask my ex-wife," he chuckles, "Although she got her benefit out of it - all the money I worked for during my legitimate life, which she got to keep while locking me up in Arkham. Really, she got everything she could ask for, even if she took it and ran off to New YOrk with it. But I'll end up having my discussion with her about that someday…face to face," he says.

He reaches into his pocket and draws out an enevelope, "There were forces that didn't want you to get this. People who would lose power, people who don't want you to know what's inside it. People who don't want to have what you will get from it. I can help you deal with those people - in exchange for some of what they already possess," he smiles. She may be getting Rex's organization, but she can do it largely without his people - especially if Harvey can poison her against them in advance.

"And in how many docks will they be fishing out body parts after -that- discussion?" Selina inquires, not really needing an answer to the puzzle of disarticulation and Two-Faces ways.

Looking to Mel after the envelope is slid forward, not touching it yet, her commentary about leaving has a hand held up in her direction, fingers curling in save one that plants itself upon the envelope, pinning it to the table and imprinting a hole into it via that clawed nail tip. "If I cannot trust you to sit here now, I'd have had you escorted out last week." A small cock of lips, an untelling expression, though her eyes now slide to Harvey as she slides back and tosses the envelope before her in emphasis of the trust.

"Dear Harvey has already helped himself," A look to him with a wry grin forming. "Yell me what there is to tell, Rant."

Though now her words are directed to Harvey. "So you mean to back me from harm and in turn for things that are not mine to give?" A single digit rises and tic-tocks back and forth. "You're not a game player. You tempt fate with the flip of a coin, but wisely."

Melody glances towards Selina with a look. A look that told millions and one she's never really given Selina before. There wasn't anger in that look, nor trepidation nor fear. Nor a leveling gaze that spoke of 'i got you' or 'you got me'. It was just -that- look. She draws a foot down from the seat to lean forward, the envelope soon gripped up and torn apart to find the treasure within. "Yell? I don't yell much anymore." Her words were dry, but par for the course she was reading with a quick skim. Again.. and again.. and again..

"Alright. Point blank. I think Mr. Two-Face here wants you to know that you're some Calbriese heir. That man is yo' daddy." She was trying to make a joke, at least.. to lighten the situation. But it was failing even for her. "You have to see this for yourself, but I can drum up the required proof in an hours time. I just need to access your medical records and his." Point, blank. Simple.

The letter was soon folded and passed on with a sly slide, her foot soon drawing back upon the chair as the other joins to bring her knees to a rise, which her arms soon hug against. "I'm not understanding what this all means, by the by." Don't shoot the reader. And she probably won't shoot you.

Two-Face shrugs, "Not something that isn't yours to give. Girl's got it right. YOu're the heir apparent. Daddy's bouncing baby girl. Hand out the pink cigars," he chuckles. "In other words, you've got the keys to the kingdom. All of Rex's flunkies and underbosses belong to you now. Not that they're gonna like it much. They've spent years kissin' up to the old man, chasin' his favor, wantin' t'be the ones who take his place whenever he finally kicks the bucket in that concrete box."

"And now they find out that he's had someone else right under their nose the whole time, somebody, let's be honest, they probably already hated to begin with. And now they're told, "Sorry boys, hope you didn't hold yer breath, here's the new boss." Fuck, some of those old boys can barely take seein' girls wearin' pants, much less takin' orders from one."

"So what I'm sayin' is, Daddy Dearest can offer you what he offers you there, but you can't actually take it without someone you can trust watchin' your back. And I'm sayin'…I'll be your huckleberry," he smirks.

"I grew up in an orphanage, and even they claim they did not know where I came from." Selina states pointedly, almost all expression dropping from her face as she looks between Mel and Two-Face, the placidity one that could be iced over and set. Not that the jokes didn't help but the rigidity of shoulders is set. Ever since her little war began being waged over the feath of one of her friends and girls she took looks into families. Which ones looked better on books, and which gangs were better in your pocket. Calbrese title was at war with Falcones and on an uneasy alliance, which she was debating her own wedge in between - and to the victor, spoils.

Now she is sitting on her own very episode of Maury, and this record hunting with DNA testing either way already seems designed and on paper. Paper Two-Face has seen to already bears blood of the tides.

Her hand remains on the table, sliding back with her as she reclines against the boots seating, drumming those nails over the lacquered surface. Amenti, the Sphynx feline took that as his cue, dropping from the rafters to settle into a prisitne curl upon the center, resting his gaze at half mast to show his boredom and feign interest. Cats.

Selina's gaze mirrors it now, though the smile upon lips is still chilled. "Yes, run what you must and let me know. I want it to be very true and not some old mans game to maintain an keep power from behind bars. Word travels."

Now to Two-Face and in one quick motion her hand slips from the table to close distance even that sleek /slide/ across the bench allows her, that finger drawing along the rigid edge of his jawline, from flawed to perfect if he did not shy away. "If this checks out and I have all the legalities in black and white - You are correct. I need that backing. I will accept you offer, on one condition." The hand draws away and her index hold aloft between them, curling in slowly like it would -hook- and tear.

"Be my Huckleberry. Hell, I will even give you the badge, but from here on out, Doc. This business stays out of this club and away from these people."

The game has changed.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 License