So this is the destructive force these people had to face; these people, who by all means are, for the most part, innocent. I guess some people just enjoy watching the world burn.

[Frustrated grunt.] These people deserve better; they deserve an opportunity for hope. They deserve freedom - hell, they just deserve a time where they don't have to think about whether or not they'll survive until the next day-!

[Breathing, panting, then he collects himself again.]

This place brought all of us here for a reason. So, what reason do we have? To torture the public? To give innocent people a reason to lash out? To teach lessons?

If that's the case, then it's failed. All has failed except for one and I am, by far, not a fan of seeing innocent people tortured.

[He pauses, breathes and there's a muffled thump.] But I guess talking like a politician won't really help matters much either.

[Shuffling; it sounds like he's moving.] I hope you're all all right. [There's a clicking sound; now, he's walking.]

If there is anything I can do - I want to help.

[There's a sharp rattling; a familiar thumping of footsteps echoes across the line. The first voice that comes through is, most definitely, Smoker's.]

Time to wake up, Dent. [Whirling sounds and a deep inhale. Beyond it, Dent yelps slightly.]

Wh-what the hell is - Commodore?

No one told-? It's normal, don't worry about it.

So, that's why they call you Smoker then? Did you have a name before that?

[There's a pause; it's almost audible that Smoker is rolling his eyes into the back of his skull.] Very observant, Dent. You're probably going to have some visitors in the next few days; have your meal, then get ready to get cleaned up.

[It sounds like a relieved laugh for a second. It's cut off after a short while.] I hope you don't plan on-

-Don't finish that sentence, brat. I have to maintain a twenty-four hour watch on you, so to answer that shit question, yes. [Rattling; it sounds like something is being set down.] Not the best meal, but it's what we have.

I'm grateful to get anything - but, if we're going to be seeing a lot of each other, can I at least learn your real name?

[Growling.] Don't make me smother you, punk.

[More thumps, then an audible door slam.]

You're not as bad as they say. Maybe a little rough around the edges, but - you're a good man, Commodore.

[Chewing, swallowing, a happy sigh.]

[There's a startled gasp, followed by, what sounds like, someone shuffling back. Fast. It stops momentarily, but the heavy breathing still filters through the line.]

He's - Nagi. Nagi.

[It sounds like he's getting up and running; heels clatter against pavement. The man on the other side is breathing and every once in a while, he stops, pauses, then keeps going.]

Just - just hang on. Everything is going to be all right; I promise.

[ooc; SO YOU CAN THANK THE NATIVES. Harvey is now Harvey. No scarring, no Two-Face. Just District Attorney Harvey Dent. He's back and alive and fbabkj yes. FOR NOW.]

[There's a clicking sound; it sounds as if someone is rotating something quickly, perhaps a bit too quickly. Then, there's a snap, sudden, precise.]

I wonder; I wonder when you'll stop lying to yourselves. I wonder when you'll stop being TWO-FACED.

Does age matter? We'll see how much it does. Keep telling them it'll be all right - it's the only thing you have left, right?

But first, a story. I'll let Harvey tell this one; he's so good at the dramatics.

[The bitterness fades; on the other side, there's the distinct sound of choking.]

It's fair; it's the only thing that's fair - get on with it Harvey. Get on with it and quit wasting my fucking time - she had the same chance - oh yes, fifty-fifty. Dear Rachel had the same chance and her friends chose Harvey over her. And why not? The White Knight is so much more important than that woman, isn't he? Too bad the White Knight's gone black.

I never liked the Ying-Yang system. Not enough of one side, too balanced -

She had the same chance you all have. Fifty-fifty. That's right, Harvey. You've finally got it! Now, what do you say to the pretty people out there?

[There's a distinct click; anyone that knows a gun will find the noise pretty familiar. It sounds like a hammer being pulled back.]

When you've lost everything, then, then, you can tell them you're sorry.

[There's a sharp grouping of clicks fluttering on Harvey's side of the line; it sounds like something winding up or spinning.]

I remember falling.

[The clicking ceases abruptly.]

Some gasoline and bullets. That's all a city needs to crumble; a city of cowards, criminals, crooks. Fuck them all. Drown them all. Burn them all. Haven't we gone through this song and dance enough? Same shit, different day, Harvey. Let's go. Let's shake things up. Let's burn the whole thing down.

That isn't right - that, that isn't justice - justice? Justice!? Gordon promised justice. Gordon promised he knew his men. And then what? What did they do to your girlfriend?

It isn't - we can't be expected to be good men in these - I can't. I'm -

You're me. And I'm not Harvey Dent.

[There's a distinct sound of metal, then thumping. Rhythmical, calculated thumping. It sounds almost like a marching beat, almost like a heart beat. It isn't easy to interpret and to each their own. But, then, a whisper. It's a voice that sounds half-dead, half clinging to life; something that shouldn't exist, but does. It gets progressively louder.]

I believe in Harvey Dent.

I believe in Harvey Dent.

I believe in Harvey Dent.

I believe in Harvey Dent.

[Then, a loud crash. It sounds like a fist hitting a table, then a glass shudders under the pressure of being shaken so forcibly.]

I BELIEVE IN HARVEY DENT.

Do you believe in Harvey Dent? Do you believe? Do you believe in Harvey Dent? Do you? Do you?

DO YOU!?

[There's an extremely long pause; it sounds like someone is drinking something, but the liquid doesn't seem to want to stay down.]

Because I believe in two.

[ooc; and here you have Two-Face. GUESS WHO TWO IS. afbkfbk Two-Face has a favorite person here now what.]

I - I want to extend my apologies. I haven't been feeling - whole lately. I've, well. I was - was - injured before I woke up here. So, I. I'm not exactly -

I haven't even had the chance to introduce myself. My name is - my name - my name - [Harvey groans and hisses.]

Two - Harvey. Harvey - Two Face - Dent. Former District Attorney of Gotham City. I know I don't have much say here. I don't - we - I don't have jurisdiction. I don't even know what HALF of you are.

The only thing I can say is that there is a man here. A man named the Joker. He - he is.

[The line goes dead for a few seconds. Then, Harvey's voice returns, but it sounds gurgled, spat, almost like he has something wedged in one half of his mouth.]

- a villain. A killer. Criminal.

[ooc; Strikes = murmured. SORRY IF THIS IS WRONG BUT I'M TRYING TO SLOWLY TURN HIM INTO TWO-FACE. That's my excuse for sucking.]

Monsters. Monsters, criminals, demons; hell, maybe. Can't leave that to chance, can't leave that to a flip. Wouldn't matter much - [Murmuring, followed by a loud, audible ping.]

[Slap.]

Mn. But they just ran out of luck.

[There's a slow, low and almost poisonous laugh on the other side before the line cuts out.]

Miss Rikku I - well, I apologize for our. Well our meeting. It was entirely unprofessional of me to be so reckless. So. Not entirely there. I'll be sure to be on better behavior next time.

[There's a series of coughs and gags on the other line; Harvey groans.] I can't fucking breathe. Didn't plan on actually sticking around long enough to to survive. Didn't plan on using this - this face. Should probably get a doctor nothing.

I'll be needing the inn room for a while. I hope that isn't a problem. Just - just make sure it's away from other people.

[There's an audible flip of cards, followed by a loud, audible snort. A cough is suppressed on Harvey's side.]

Joker's wild.

[ooc; Strikes are muttered, murmured and spat out. Really hard to make them out, but if you have a good ear, feel free to hear them.]

[Plunk.]

I can't. I won't. It's. This isn't my life. This isn't my life. This place - someone said this place is a prison. They don't know the half of it. I don't really know the half of it, actually.

I just know that it still feels like I'm burning.

- This thing still on? How do I - I want it to turn off. I don't want it anymore. I don't want any of this - [ A coughing fit interrupts the line. Someone hacks, whines and gasps on the other side. Then, when the voice returns, it's just a whisper. A horribly broken whisper. It's actually quite difficult to make out the words. They sound gurgled and spat.]

Two-Face.

Fuck you Gordon. Was that a joke? Was that really a god damn joke!?

[There's a distinct beat humming through the line; it sounds metal and it pauses every once in a while, but there is some sort of rhythm to it. Tink. Slap. Tink. Slap. Tink. Slap. ]

Not right. It's off; the chances aren't split.

[The voice is at a whisper, but it sounds faded, crinkled like an old newspaper. The words are gurgled out as if the lungs have been hit hard over time.]

Can't be - it isn't. None of this is right. None of it. You can't always be that fucking lucky. Or unlucky. Guess it's the luck of the draw or the perspective.

[There is an erratic thumping on the line; it sounds like a heel bouncing against the floor; another metallic noise clears the silence. Then, a click. Or a series of clicks. A listener who has experience in firearms might recognize it to be the barrel of a revolver being rolled.]

Not so lucky now, are you. Don't even know where you are, do you? That's a shame. Chances aren't in your favor; not the split fifty fifty you were looking for, is it?

Heads, it's Heaven. Tails, it's hell.

Either way, I'll outlive my welcome.

[Another loud sound of metal being hit hard rings through the line. Then, there is the sound of something rolling across a hard surface. It is followed by two distinct slapping noises.]

Well then. That's more like it.

Percentages all wrong? Not the right side of the coin? Got questions? Maybe I've got some answers.

If you're having issues with Harvey, post 'em here. Comments are screened for secrecy; hiding behind a mask, like always.

But we wouldn't want it any other way, now, would we?

CONTACT;
AIM: xitalianmenacex
E-Mail: reno[dot]cicilia[at]gmail[dot]com