"Costas isn't the biggest fan of Metas." He says quietly. "Had family that was uh... y'know."

You frown. Collateral was the word he didn't want to say but you've heard your own fair share of stories.

"Did his family have the insurance?"

"They won't sell to Gotham residents. Not ones that could afford those premiums anyways. But look, don't let it bother you."

"It doesn't, we're both blue. If he can leave it at some bad glances then I'm fine letting it lie."

"Good man." He says with a firm slap on your back. "Now, we're gonna do an initial sweep of this place before I start teaching you how to work internal."

"Internal?"

"Standard stuff, home searches, pen testing, some trivia. Keep the mind sharp while we walk in circles. C'mon, you can pick the first lesson."

>"Tell me more about searching a house? Isn't it the same as searching anywhere else?"
>"Pen testing, guessing that's penetration testing. We gonna check doors and windows?"
>"Trivia sounds interesting, I'm assuming it'll be like GCPD trivia or is this your way of checking that I actually listen to you?"
>Write-In

>>6311438
>>"Pen testing, guessing that's penetration testing. We gonna check doors and windows?"
We are so back. I finished catching up with the last one and wanted to compliment the writing a bunch, but the thread fell off the board. In dialogue between Mark and Grey, Mark tried to guess the end of a story and just guessed wrong, cool realistic flow. Also red lady remembering nightwings robin times wistfully, because Nightwing manwhore powers apparently work on ghosts.

Anyway, time to find 0 evidence of break-ins or weird happening in batman's house.

>>6311455
+1 TIME FOR THE BASICS

>>6311438
>"Pen testing, guessing that's penetration testing. We gonna check doors and windows?"

>>6311455
>Because Nightwing manwhore powers apparently work on ghosts.
They work on aliens, so why not? The Robin as a whole has pretty strong game with supernaturals: Batman has a history with a few (Zatanna and Wonder Woman most prominently, but also Nocturna), Dick Grayson's (in)famous for his bodycount, Tim dated Cassie-Wonder Girl if I'm not mistaken, and Damien Wayne has in various versions dated Raven, Flatline, and he also had that whole love triangle with Djinn and Lobo's daughter.

>>6311438
>"Tell me more about searching a house? Isn't it the same as searching anywhere else?"

imagine coming close to finding the batcave only to have to be intercepted by someone in the batfamily

>>6311438
>"Tell me more about searching a house? Isn't it the same as searching anywhere else?"

>>6311455
>>6311483
>>6311631

"Pen testing, I'm guessing that's penetration testing. We gonna check doors and windows?"

"Among a few other things. Houses like this got all types of weak spots. Glad Wayne isn't dumb enough to pay for those big heavy front doors and then flank em with windows."

"Still plenty of windows."

"Yeah well. One thing at a time. Let's start with a clean and easy sweep, make sure the only other person in for the night is Jeeves there."

"Pennyworth, sir." A polite but firm voice calls from behind you.

"Fuckin-" Hawthorne jumps, angrily tugging his collar. "Sneaky for an old guy aren't you?"

"Shall I put on bells, sir?" Pennyworth asks dryly.

"How about a tour? And drop the 'sir' Officer or Sergeant is fine."

"Of course, sir. Follow me."

Hawthorne sighs but nods for you to follow, as Pennyworth guides you back to the entrance Hawthorne quizzes.

"Alright, slick. Points of entry for the house, talking general here."

"Windows and doors?"

"Not that general. Not A house, THE house. This one."

"Windows, doors, uh... Mr. Pennyworth, any skylights or secret ways in and out?"

Hawthorne raises a brow but you shrug it off.

"Rich people are weird, if anyone is gonna have a secret exit it's someone harassed by the press. Right?"

"Fair enough. Whaddya say, Pennyworth?"

"The dining room has a skylight, though Master Wayne has long since installed a sliding cover for it. As for secret passages, I'm afraid you won't find anything as clandestine on this property."

"How many entrances then? Counting the front door?"

"Two." He answers simply. "The front door and the back doors leading to the garden."

"Really? All that money and he skimps on the doors?" Hawthorne chimes in. "Not forgetting a balcony or a little employee entrance for cooking staff?"

"I assure you there is not. The only staff present is myself and the occasional housekeeper, the very same that served his parents."

"Good." Hawthorne grunts. "House has a lot of windows, most em don't look like they open. Two entrances limit the soft spots for anyone trying to get at the VIP. But what's missing, rook?"

You glance the hall as Pennyworth leads you to a new set of doors, the windows are near five foot they don't open just like he said. You glance up and the vaulted ceiling doesn't show any hatches or implication of a cellar. You scan again and look back to Hawthorne.

"Very first room we were in. What was against the wall?"

You look back in your mind and pull the mental image, you spent plenty of time idling around since Hawthorne mainly covered things you'd already decided. That's when you pick it.

"The fireplace?"

"Good memory." He says simply. "You'd be shocked, but I've been called to more than one scene where the only way in or out was the chimney. Most of the time it was thieves who got wedged going in or out. Grey closed a murder where the smoking gun was soot trapped in the grooves of the guys sneakers. Built like a pole."

"I didn't think it was relevant..." You say quietly.

"Anything can be, especially when it's about securing a scene or a VIP."

"No I mean, the chimney is probably plugged right?"

"How so?"

"I mean, Winter cold is really starting to set in now right? Mr. Pennyworth doesn't strike me as a lazy guy, so I assume if that fireplace was used then it would have a fire going. That aside, it was warm when we came in. This place has central AC doesn't it?"

"Right you are, sir." Pennyworth says as he rounds a corner stopping before a long hallway lined with doors on either side.

"Sly pick up, son." Hawthorne says. "But if that deduction was wrong, then it means a whole mess of potential problems. Being clever don't make it smart, you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yes, sir. Trust my gut, but verify."

He nods once firmly, nothing else to be said. Hawthorne turns and clears his throat.

"Sorry to hold you up, Mr. Pennyworth. I'm guessing these are most of the rooms for the east wing?"

"Indeed, the eastern study, the pantries, the kitchens, and the old parlour are here. We passed the dining room before this corner."

"And the western wing?"

"The western study, the garage, the library, and the theater."

"Understood, we'll need to sweep them just to make sure nobody got here before we did." Hawthorne grumbles as he reaches out and grasps a door knob, only to have the door's path blocked by a polished shoe.

"I'm afraid the old parlour is off limits unless Master Wayne offers his express permission."

"We'll wait. Go wake up 'Master' Wayne."

"I'll do no such thing. Master Wayne is currently sleeping off a night of imbibing himself."

"Well, wake the party boy up. A little hangover won't kill him."

"The answer is no, Sergeant." Pennyworth states bluntly before presenting his silk gloved hands with wrists touching. "Master Wayne has agreed to this detail because your commissioner has impressed it's importance on him. However, I answer to neither you nor the commissioner. So unless you plan on restraining me and violating the hospitality offered to you..."

He trails off but Hawthorne grinds his jaw.

"Can I ask why, Mr. Pennyworth?" You prod gently.

"The parlour is untouched and has been for a long time. Mr. Wayne prefers it be left exactly as his parents had, he is quite protective of that space and I won't betray him to satisfy your curiosity. Professional or otherwise."

>"Hawthorne, maybe we can let this go? It's one room that reminds him of his folks, we can let it go."
>"Mr. Pennyworth, would it be an option if you just held the door and we looked inside without entering?"
>"Mr. Pennyworth, how about if only I go in? Bruce and I have spoken a few times and so have I with the commissioner. I have an interest in touching as little as I can but I also have a job to do."
>"Sorry, Pennyworth. This is our job, I can promise we won't touch anything but we HAVE to enter the room. Just once to clear it."
>Write-In

>>6312843
>"Mr. Pennyworth, would it be an option if you just held the door and we looked inside without entering?"
A visual inspection through the door should be fine, unless Mr. Wayne wants the dust bunnies and cobwebs exactly where he left them or something.

>>6312843
>"Mr. Pennyworth, would it be an option if you just held the door and we looked inside without entering?"

>>6312843
>>"Mr. Pennyworth, would it be an option if you just held the door and we looked inside without entering?"

Probably the best compromise we can get.

>>6312843
>"Mr. Pennyworth, would it be an option if you just held the door and we looked inside without entering?"
>”Sir, mind if I pull something from my toolbox to check?”
If Hawthorne gives the go ahead…
>Ask a question to the Lady in Red: “Is this room secured?”

>>6312843
>"Mr. Pennyworth, would it be an option if you just held the door and we looked inside without entering?"

>>6312860
We should follow up with Shivers either way. We can get a look at the rest of the house without needing to scour the whole place.

Urban Augury can also give us an idea for what we’re in for.

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>>6312860
+1 for the smart superpower usage, though I am vaguely afraid that we'll get zonked out by the emotional intensity of the room where the Prince of Gotham had his "I Shall Become a Bat" vision.

>>6312959
Isnt this place basically on a lay line inside another layline?

Practically have the red lady just walking by us

>>6312845
>>6312849
>>6312859
>>6312860
+3 That 4Chan is Spam-Cucking me over.

Locked in for peeking from the doorway.

I'll need 1d100, Best of three for obvious reasons.


Sorry to put off the update but I finally got assigned to that new job and am jumping through more than one hoop at the moment. I'll take the rolls and have an update out tonight since it'll be the first time I can bring my laptop with me. See you soon, God willing.

File: HAPPENING.gif (21 KB, 485x365)

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Rolled 98 (1d100)

>>6313273

Rolled 67 (1d100)

>>6313273
Normal look or Spooky Bullshit look?

Rolled 14 (1d100)

>>6313273
Rolling

>>6313282
>98
>best of 3
Of course right here is a point where Gotham is strongest

>>6313282
Damn
Option 1) Brain aneurism
Option 2) Mark knows too much now
Option 3) Just a very clear and chill flashback to young bruce. Chill for Mark I mean, no blacking out, no nosebleed, actually easy-going use of powers.

>>6313293
You forgot Option 4, the comic book option:
>After seeing the room, Mark become a criminal with a schtick based on some sort of obsession or superpower he has, eventually fighting Batman

>>6313332
Kek, the Cobra cometh.

>>6313359
What started as some weird schtick of a rookie, ends up with Mark having a full on costume and living in a abandoned Zoo.

>"You don't follow a *Cobra* into their burrow, and expect to not get *BIT*, Officersssssss"
>"MARK, WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? SINCE WHEN YOU GOT ENOUGH MONEY TO BUY A FUCKING ZOO?!"
>"Oooooh, Officer Hawthornessssss! It only took a few incidents on the Sssssnake section, and enough media coverage, to *plummet* the pricesss!"

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>>6313282 (waow)
>>6313288
>>6313289

"Mr. Pennyworth." You begin lightly. "Would it be an option if you just held the door and we looked inside without entering? I can empathize with Mr. Wayne's wishes and I know we're technically guests. But we also have a vested interest in keeping him safe and that means doing our jobs."

Pennyworth's face settles into an unreadable mask, his eyes holding yours in a stare on par with Hawthorne, before he nods shallowly.

"In the interest of compromise I can agree to that." He steps to the side and pulls the door open slowly.

"Sir, you mind if I pull something from my 'toolbox' for this?"

"It even gonna work? We're outside city limits."

You pause for a moment. You hadn't even realized it but he's right, Wayne Manor lies a few miles outside Gotham City limits but you hadn't noticed any interruption or dulling of the whispers. If anything they seem a little more animated than usual.

"I mean I don't turn it on and off, it's working right now. Maybe cause Wayne is a..." You trail off before you can say 'Son of Gotham' like that would mean anything to him. "He's a pretty big part of Gotham, or maybe the house used to be considered Gotham when it was originally built?"

"Your ghosts consult with land surveyors?"

"I don't know. I just know I can still tap into it."

"Go ahead." Hawthorne says after a brief pause, holding his stance with folded arms.

You step forward, your toes in line with the threshold of the room, your eyes scan over the space. The furniture looks like antique but well worn, the cushions showing faded colors, somewhere in the depths of the room along the wall that holds the door you hear the steady ticking of a grandfather clock. You feel a lingering presence over your shoulder but not the butler or Hawthorne, you feel her.

"Is this room secure?" You whisper.

You feel something wash over your shoulder. Like gentle cold mist it seeps through the fabric of your shirt and tries to cling to you as it passes over and into the space itself.

"Yes... Though only physically." A voice whispers past your ear.

Then you blink.

A series of rapidly moving images that you somehow manage to absorb flash by you in a flurry. A clock face at 10:48. Falling pearls surrounded by shards of glass. A mirror that reflects eyes that aren't your own. The eyes of a child. The eyes of someone dead. Then comes her voice, so soft you almost have to strain to hear it.

"I am the eleventh hour that never comes. The hand that leads downward. I watched the window break, the glass life of a child split in two, I felt the cold wind push through the gap along with it's avatar. It's shape the shape of fear itself. Fear that brought a cold shiver. And the city shivered with him.... this place is safe. It may be one of the few truly safe spaces left."

The crashing DONG from the Grandfather clock shocks you back to reality as Hawthorne pipes up.

"Look clear?"

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"Yes, sir." You reply quietly, still replaying those snapshots from someone else in your mind.

He takes a step up himself and gives the room his own sweep.

"Pretty pristine for a room nobody uses, Pennyworth."

"I never said the room was unused. I said it was not to be entered without Master Wayne's permission." He replies steadily.

Hawthorne grumbles and takes a step back, waving his hand for Pennyworth to close the door once again.

"What's the upstairs looking like?"

"Bedrooms, Guest rooms, and staff quarters. As well as a private study and library."

"Bruce Wayne likes to read?" Hawthorne scoffs.

"One must have some way to occupy the time between Paris and New York." Pennyworth replies flatly.

"I bet." Hawthorne replies in matched tone. "Please, show us to the stairs. We gotta check the windows, any balconies, and if you got a cellar or attic we need to see that too. But first we'll clear these real quick and meet you back by the front."

"Of course." Pennyworth replies with a shallow bow before turning on his heel and striding to the end of the hall and then turning to stare straight down it at the two of you.

"He doesn't trust us." Hawthorne says quietly to you with a chuckle. "C'mon."

He opens the door to a fully kitted commercial kitchen. A stainless steel wash basin adorned with freshly cleaned glasses and bowls that are flanked by polished silverware. Hawthorne closes the door behind you both with a quiet click before scanning the room and then speaking low.

"So what'd you pick up on Spirit FM?"

"I don't talk to ghosts." You clarify.

"What'd you hear back from 'the city' then, slick?"

"Room was safe, real safe apparently. But say some weird stuff, a clock, the window, and pearls?"

Hawthorne frowns.

"The mugging that killed his folks. Report said it was over a pearl necklace. His father went for the gun..." He throws up a hand. "Wasn't the first or last time it went down like that."

"Yeah... I was also told there was an avatar that uh.. was shaped like fear."

"Your voices always so... poetic?"

"This specific one, yeah. I don't know what it means but-"

"But you got the same feeling I do? Something's hidden in that room, my gut's telling me, something big."

"Sir, if this is just because he's rich-"

"It's a factor." Hawthorne cuts you off. "I won't deny that, but it's also a real feeling in my stomach. Wayne is in the papers, FireBug? Wayne-Tech, unreleased shit. The assault on the museum? We're right next to each other and I get winged? Not to mention I saw a side table in there with a letter on it. The heading looked real similar to that Blackgate heading you stuffed down your shirt."

"You're starting to sound like Question."

"Broken clock is right every once in a while." Hawthorne replies. "Besides, you can't tell me you think it's entirely impossible that he could be involved in this business with the Warden. ARGUS coming for the jail which just so happens to be a laundry for the last bits of mob cash still swirling, Wayne and Dent doing all but roll out the red carpet for feds to set up shop here? It fucking stinks."

"I don't know.."

"That's why we check things out. When we go to head upstairs, I'll have someone fake a code and send you outside. Wait a minute for us to be up and then you come back in and check out that parlor. Just look for anything suspicious or ask your voice for some guidance. If it's still clear after that I'll drop it."

>"Sorry, sir. I understand a gut feeling, but this is outside the scope of why we're here. I don't feel comfortable doing it."
>"The room is safe, sir. I know that for a fact, I've never been lied to by my shivers before. We can look into Wayne or ask Question to do it for us but we don't have enough evidence for me to justify this. I'm sorry."
>"Alright, I won't make a mess but I'll give the place a thorough sifting. Just keep Pennyworth busy as long as you can up there."
>"Alright, but I'm not touching anything or digging around. Just stepping in and getting a look at that letter. We don't want Pennyworth getting suspicious."
>Write-In

>>6313546
>"Alright, but I'm not touching anything or digging around. Just stepping in and getting a look at that letter. We don't want Pennyworth getting suspicious."
Trying to argue this is outside of our purview doesn't hold much water thanks to our extracurricular activities. Best we go in with as light a touch as possible just so Hawthorne drops it.

>>6313553
+1
Worst case scenario if we get caught: we argue “sleepwalking” like what happened to us at that one crime scene ages ago

>>6313553
>"Alright, but I'm not touching anything or digging around. Just stepping in and getting a look at that letter. We don't want Pennyworth getting suspicious."
>"Considering I put myself into a coma on Halloween and having a mini-stroke shaking Bruce's hand, I want to get to next year before risking another hospital stay."

>>6313707
+1

>>6313546

>>6313707
+1

>>6313553
>>6313555
>>6313707
>>6313867
>>6313960

"Alright, but I'm not touching anything or digging around." Hawthorne opens his mouth but you press on. "JUST stepping in and getting a look at that letter. We don't want Pennyworth getting suspicious."

"Not even time for a shiver?"

"Considering I put myself into a coma on Halloween and had a mini-stroke the last time I shook Bruce's hand, I don't think so. I want to at least close out the year without another hospital visit."

"You picked the wrong career then, son." Hawthorne grumbles. "Besides you got a clean bill of health, Reiner showed me the scans."

"Clean bill of health or not things have still been... weird surrounding my Shivers. Just, I wanted this assignment to ease back into average police work. Can we stick to that?"

Hawthorne pauses for a moment and behind the usual stern wall put up by his eyes you see real consideration that breaks through in a sigh and a nod.

"Yeah. Yeah, you got it slick." Hawthorne replies. "I uh... I didn't mean..."

He trails off and simply nods again before grabbing his walkie from his belt and lifting it.

"Bunko. It's Sergeant Hawthorne, y'there?"

"I copy, Sarge. Go ahead." Bunko comes through laced with static.

"Two minutes I want you to call through the open line here. Tell me you got a 586 and then forget about it. Whatever I say you go along with, I'll get you some easy overtime in exchange. Hear me?"

"Absolutely Sergeant. Ring you in two."

The radio crackles as Hawthorne jams it back into his belt and moves to the door. You can't help but feel a strange sense of heaviness as you watch him.

"Sir? Is everything okay?"

"We'll talk." He says after a brief pause. "Later."

You've heard this tone before. He'll make good on that promise in his own time, the stubborn old mule. You give him a slight smile and nod in agreeance as you follow him into the hall.

You pull the door shut behind you both as Hawthorne strides to Pennyworth with his shoulders squared and chin raised.

"Looks fine down here. How about that tour of the upstairs now jeeves? Minus the 'Master's' room of course, don't wanna intrude on the hangover he's probably sleeping off, eh?"

Pennyworth stares at him for a moment with an eyebrow raised high. Then his eyes shift back to you, there's an eerie familiarity in the glint that resides in his stare. That same look of steady analysis you've seen in Grey's eyes before. It's almost unnerving to be on the receiving end of it from someone outside the GCPD.

"Hello?" Hawthorne asks, clicking his fingers. "Sooner you show us the upstairs the sooner you get to go back to your duties."

"Very well." Pennyworth replies with a stiff tone. "Follow me and please keep your voices down."

"Absolutely." Hawthorne replies, nodding for you to come along.

As you retrace your steps back to the foyer and you start angling for the stairs you hear your radios crackle.

"Sergeant, this is Bunko. Copy?"

"Got you clear, Bunko. Go ahead."

"Sir, it looks like I have a 586 out here. Just wanted to know how you wanted me to proceed."

"Son of a bitch." Hawthorne sighs off mic before depressing the key. "Hold where you are, I'm gonna send DeLucia out to assist so you or Chen can stay with the car. Expect him in less than five and walk him through it."

"Received."

Hawthorne glances at you and sighs apologetically.

"Sorry, rook. Grab the ticket book from our shop and write it up."

"Sir, I-"

"The mansion isn't going anywhere and neither is the heating. You still need to get a few traffic citations under your belt, better to take em as they come up."

You nod obediently and make for the front door.

"And when you're done wait for me right here, don't wander off or get distracted talking to Bunko. Got it?"

"Yes, sir." You say with faux boredom as you step through the massive doors into the still frigidity of the night.

The door closes behind you and you shudder, though you aren't entirely sure if it's the cold or this underlying feeling of unease that seems to linger like graveyard fog. You give it a count of thirty before twisting the knob and slowly leaning into the door so it opens without sound. Thankfully Pennyworth hasn't been slacking and the well oiled hinges swing the heavy door open without a sound and you slink back down the hall to the parlor.

The closer you get to the door the more you feel this pressure in your chest. Not like before where it felt like something inside wanted out. Now it's a solid force like someone sitting on your chest and refusing to move and the weight only grows heavier the closer you get. You put you hand on the knob and hear a faint whisper.

"Truth."

You turn and step inside, softly closing it behind you, the dim moonlight giving you just enough vision to make your way over the antique rug and lean down to a piece of paper still next to the torn envelope it came in. The letterhead is exactly what Hawthorne and you saw in the Warden's office. You gingerly slide the letter out and read swiftly.

"Dear Mr. Wayne, it saddens me to reach out to someone who has provided so much in the way of funding and support with poor news. However, I am also aware how busy your schedule is so I hope you understand why I will do away with pretense and address you plainly regarding the inquiries you made earlier this year.

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In the case of Inmate 3347, Joe Chill, it is unfortunately my duty to inform you we will be unable to keep him incarcerated at our facility once administrative duties are fully shifted to the new ARGUS liaison set to be assigned in the coming months. I know this will be upsetting news but he simply does not meet the criteria for the new facility. That being said I have already reached out to the wardens of Crowley Penitentiary and Van Kull to ensure that he will face the rest of his life sentence in a prison suited for a man of his merit. Alternatively, I have been in contact with City Hall and there has been some discussion of inmate transfer to Arkham in the interim. However, such an act would require some maneuvering that could be eased with assistance from City Hall. If you have any interest in pursuing this course of action, simply let me know or pass along a similar sentiment through the Mayor's office. I know from personal experience that it can bring more peace to know someone that has hurt your family is kept close at hand. Many thanks to yourself and Mayor Dent, without you there wouldn't be a better Gotham on the horizon.

Yours faithfully, Adam Quinn, Warden of Blackgate Penitentiary."

You let the letter gently settle on the dustless side-table again as you feel your chest tighten. You put a hand on the arm of a nearby couch and let out a shaky breath as your heartbeat gets louder in your ears. For some reason that name invokes a pure dread in you. Joe Chill. You check the date and it was sent only two days prior to Halloween. You haven't looked over the after reports for the riots but there's a chance Joe Chill never made it through them. The thought brings a scowl to your face, it'd give merit to the idea of Wayne being involved with the riots if Chill happened to be one of the casualties just before he was sent out of Gotham. But you can't imagine the Bruce Wayne you've spoken to doing something like this...

The strange feeling passes over you only for your heart to fire through your chest again as a massive GONG from the grandfather clock echoes in your skull. You whip around but the time is nowhere near the top of the hour and the pendulum hangs still in the case. The silence in the room feels oppressive now as you feel that familiar cold presence lurking behind you. She's here again.

>Get out, you saw the letter and your shivers are already acting up just from being in here this long.
>Obviously the Lady in Red wants to show you something or tell you something. Take some breaths and clear your mind so she can come forward.
>This room is steeped in extremely heavy emotions and history. Maybe you can channel some of that and get a better idea of who Bruce Wayne really is.
>Write-In

>>6315046
>Get out, you saw the letter and your shivers are already acting up just from being in here this long.

>>6315046
>>Obviously the Lady in Red wants to show you something or tell you something. Take some breaths and clear your mind so she can come forward.
Fuck it, I'm tempted. Also-
>HeChill
He is VERY NOT FUCKING CHILL.

>>6315046
>Obviously the Lady in Red wants to show you something or tell you something. Take some breaths and clear your mind so she can come forward.
Trust in the City. I want Mark to NOT find out Bruce is Batman. I want him assuming wrong or seeing the truth in front of him as fake news and falsified evidence, like the spell all of Gotham is under.

>>6315046
>Get out, you saw the letter and your shivers are already acting up just from being in here this long.
Do we not want to avoid the comas and strokes and othe rmind whammies?

>>6315054
+1

GET OUT OF THERE, STALKER!

>>6315046
>Obviously the Lady in Red wants to show you something or tell you something. Take some breaths and clear your mind so she can come forward.

>>6315046
>Obviously the Lady in Red wants to show you something or tell you something. Take some breaths and clear your mind so she can come forward.

>>6315055
>>6315089
>>6315192
>>6315336

"Something on your mind?" You whisper in the silent still air of the parlor.

Your breath spreads out in front of you, a lacey mist that's disturbed by an invisible breeze passing through it. You shudder as the cold rolls over you and guides you to the vanity mirror and it's worn stool. If you let your eyes go out of focus you can almost make out the shape of a young man on it. His form shifting and rolling like the same mist from your mouth. Then you hear it faintly, his voice.

"I don't want to go..." The voice mumbles.

He's young, very young, but despite the difference in years something in your recognizes it immediately as Bruce Wayne.

"Master Bruce, I-" A familiar accented voice attempts to reply.

"I can't Pennyworth!" The voice cries out, you hear the echoing screech of the stool leg dragging over hardwood.

"I see..." Pennyworth says simply.

Then you hear the sniffling followed by a pregnant silence that has you straining to hear anything else... Then the clicking of polished shoe on floor. You can't see anything but the sound is clear enough in your mind that you can track it all the way over to the same wall that looms behind the grandfather clock. A dark wood plaque sits with an old rapier held aloft on pegs, the blade is perfectly clean without a speck of dust even now, the steps stop just before it. Then slowly they return to the stool and Pennyworth begins to speak again.

"How about we make a deal? If you can be strong enough to attend the funeral... Then I believe you may be strong enough to hold his rapier."

"Really?" The voice is small, hidden behind snot in the throat.

"Really. When we get back I'll even teach you how to use it. How to fight. So the next time you're in danger you know what to do."

"Like Zorro?" Bruce the younger asks through a final sniffle.

"Like Zorro." Alfred affirms.

You watch the misty figures embrace and Pennyworth carries Bruce to the door and you hear it close firmly. Zorro... You feel like that's important, like you're missing something right in front of you. But you're interrupted by the door opening again, or at least the sound of it, followed by two sets of shoes clopping inside then stopping.

"Master Bruce, I just cannot say I approve." Pennyworth's voice returns, less soft now.

"You've made that very clear, Alfred." Bruce counters, his voice deeper. A man now, but just barely.

"I am simply doing my duty in being honest with you. Master Richard is only a lad and I find myself questioning if you fully comprehend the road you're setting him upon. I question if it is the best course for him."

"I seem to remember not being much younger than he is when we had our first lesson with the rapier, Alfred."

"Then you know I speak from experience." He answers brusquely. "If I had known..."

"You couldn't have known." Bruce replies evenly and lightly. "But now we both do. That's why I thought you'd understand that this is important to Dick. More than that it's important FOR him. When I was a child, after I had lost my parents, I didn't have a way to release that... anger. That grief. You can't tell me you haven't seen that same mix brewing in him."

"He hides it well." Alfred sighs. "But yes, I have noticed signs..."

"Then you know he needs a release for that. A way to exorcise that hate before it consumes him and I can provide that in a way nobody else can. I can and I will." Bruce says the final words with a conviction and intensity that surprises you slightly.

His footsteps move, heading to the grandfather clock now, as Alfred speaks from the door.

"I will trust that you know best, though I cannot help but worry that his path may hold the same pain and loneliness that I watched you endure. It was hard enough once, but now..."

"Now he has the both of us." Bruce says gently. "You don't have to do it alone. After all, I'm not a boy anymore Alfred."

"Of course not, Master Bruce..." Alfred agrees, but his tone is underscored by nostalgia. "Will you be in for dinner tonight?"

"Working late, if you wouldn't mind bringing it down."

"Of course."

The voices fade out and you're left standing in front of the grandfather clock yourself, unconsciously walking closer to it as Bruce had until you stood in his place, you blink and take in the sight of your finger on the minute hand. Something urging you to rotate it forward but another equal urge telling you to walk away before you do something you can never take back. Even the silence is deeper like the city itself is holding it's breath.

>Set the clock to 10:48, just like your vision. You can't help yourself when you feel like a breakthrough on something is this close.
>Walk away. You've already seen way more than you intended and this rock in your gut is telling you this is the one knot you shouldn't untangle.
>Write-In(?)

>>6315511
>Walk away. You've already seen way more than you intended and this rock in your gut is telling you this is the one knot you shouldn't untangle.
Always trust your gut.

>>6315511
>>Walk away. You've already seen way more than you intended and this rock in your gut is telling you this is the one knot you shouldn't untangle.

NOPE.

"So what'd you pick up on Spirit FM?"
"I don't talk to ghosts." You clarify.
Don't be like that Mark, Spirit FM is a cool way to call shivers
>>6315511
>>Set the clock to 10:48, just like your vision. You can't help yourself when you feel like a breakthrough on something is this close.
Enough edging the reveal. Does it even change much? Mark's not gonna tell. Marks *is* going to get yelled at. "I thought the other you were involved in the current conspiracy bullshit" should cover his ass a bit in front of batman, but then Mark is gonna have to lie to Hawthorne. That's gonna suck.

>>6315511
>Walk away. You've already seen way more than you intended and this rock in your gut is telling you this is the one knot you shouldn't untangle.

>>6315511
>Walk away. You've already seen way more than you intended and this rock in your gut is telling you this is the one knot you shouldn't untangle.
Let's let ol' Batty keep his sense of secirity. He needs it

>>6315515
+1
I like to think we earlier learned our lesson in having some ignorance be bliss (see Darkseid).

That and I know a “are you sure you want to do that?” when I see it.

>>6315584
This

And there's NO way we weren't clocked (heh) as a security risk in the middle of all this. I wouldn't be surprised if Pennyworth noticed us via motion sensor or something and is just trying to see what we're doing.

>>6315511
>Walk away. You've already seen way more than you intended and this rock in your gut is telling you this is the one knot you shouldn't untangle.
While I’d like the idea that Mark capital K Knows at this point, I do think he’s gained enough awareness not to follow through his temptation until he feels he actually needs to. The clock revelation will have to wait a bit longer.

That being said, a slight reach for the clock before thinking otherwise.would be fitting.

>>6315613
Tbh, this just makes this moment a gigantic chekhov's gun.
And would make it's payoff that much more amazing if the red lady called us here at a time of great need for the city

>>6315511
>Walk away. You've already seen way more than you intended and this rock in your gut is telling you this is the one knot you shouldn't untangle.
Coma avoidance squad, checking in again.

Back from work, wrote this >>6315613 here.

>>6315634
Yeah, I figured Mark’s smart enough to place those two puzzle pieces together. I also figured he’s grown enough to realize what it’d mean for him and everyone in Gotham to connect them. It’d be like being able to summon Godzilla for one time only: you damn well better be sure your other options are gone before you did it.

Also, I kinda want to see Alfred’s fencing skills, now.

>>6315511
>Walk away. You've already seen way more than you intended and this rock in your gut is telling you this is the one knot you shouldn't untangle.

Fuuuuuuck that.

>>6315515
>>6315516
>>6315532
>>6315562

Your finger rests on the cold black metal of the clockface, the glass covering it long gone, but you resist the strange temptation. Somewhere in your gut or maybe in the back of your turbulent mind; you know what's waiting for you. At the same time another piece of your brain, sealed away in the dark, knows that some things are better left unearthed... at least for now. Pulling your hand away you swallow dryly as the cold presence behind you dissipates and you feel your skin rise and pimple. Somewhere in Gotham a man smiles for the first time in a week as he gets to enjoy dinner with his son.

You softly close the door behind you as you emerge in the hall before quietly sneaking back to the front door just in time for your radio to flare twice with a quiet crackle. You straighten up as you pull the walkie from your belt and press the button.

"All done, sir. Waiting at the front door like you requested."

A beat passes and then you hear Hawthorne's voice rumble through the box.

"Copy. Almost done checking the upstairs, go ahead and-" He stops for a moment and then his voice returns. "Pennyworth is gonna come keep you company while I finish this up apparently, I'll wrap it up soon as I can."

"Understood, sir. I'll stay by the door until you relieve me."

The channel goes dead as you slot the radio back into your belt and cross your hands in front of your waist and straighten up. Before long you hear the soft clicking of Pennyworth's polished leather soles coming down the stairs. He's perfectly poised and his posture impeccable, but you can see it in his eyes. A quick scan from head to toe as he looks you over before they begin sweeping the room, the entire time never breaking or slowing his stride, as he comes to a slow stop next to you he adopts the same posture as you both settle into a tense silence. You feel nervous and you aren't even sure why, the skin on your forehead prickles and it feels like a warm sweat is forming on your hairline. You clear your throat awkwardly and try to relieve some of the pressure with casual chat.

"You know. I actually know a guy from England..."

"How exotic." He replies dryly. "Where in England?"

"Oh uh... I don't really know. He was a rough guy though, lots of swearing, smoking, all around a bit of a dick actually.." You trail off awkwardly.

"Manchester or Essex, then." Pennyworth remarks casually, pulling a brass watch from his waistcoat and checking it. "Half past ten, if I'm lucky I'll be able to have the floors waxed before midnight."

"I thought it was freshly waxed?"

"It was." He says pointedly, his eyes darting to the ground.

You follow his vision and cringe as you notice tiny pieces of dirt and detritus that just barely dull the shine of the floor, in a broken but clear line right back down the hall you came from. You glance up at him and he's already fixed his eyes on you, his face cool and neutral.

"I did-"

>>6315584
>>6315613
>>6315641
>>6315687

He holds up a gloved finger to silence you.

"I trust your curiosity is satisfied?"

You furrow your brow in confusion but he simply maintains that iron gaze, unshaking. After a few seconds you nod.

"Yes, sir."

"Then we will leave it at that." He says putting his hand back down.

A far less elegant clomping follows his words as Hawthorne thunders down the staircase, thumbs tucked into his duty belt as he hits the floor with long strides.

"Place is massive but secure. Windows don't open, can thank gothic architecture for that, and the attic is fully sealed. No balconies to worry about and uh..." He trails off looking at you both.

"Everything good here?"

"Yes." Pennyworth says before you can speak. "I was just ensuring you wouldn't need to be going in or out any further tonight. I haven't set the alarm system you see. I also need to lock up some of the more sensitive areas of the house."

"I think we're good, we good rook?"

"Yes, sir."

"Alright then. You heard the man, Pennyworth. Feel free to lock up and handle whatever else you have on your plate tonight, we'll be doing a few exercises."

"Excellent, I will be up to disarm it at 7am sharp. I'll begin preparing breakfast at 7:30, as such I've been instructed by Master Wayne to offer you an invitation to sit in for breakfast, if you wish."

"Sure he'll be up in time for that after a night of partying?"

"The miracles of modern medicine." He replies dryly. "A banana bag makes an effective Apéritif."

Hawthorne snorts at that as another smile nearly cracks the edge of his mouth. He glances at you and raises a brow.

"We still gotta go in at nine. You willing to forgo some sleep for free chow?"

>"Sure, Grey warned me it would be a double and I got plenty of sleep today."
>"I'd rather head home if it's all the same, sir. Sorry, Pennyworth."
>"Sure, but shouldn't the offer also extend to Banks and the others? If it wouldn't be too much work for you to accommodate some extra seats?"
>Write-In

>>6315877
>"Sure, Grey warned me it would be a double and I got plenty of sleep today."

>>6315877
>"Sure, Grey warned me it would be a double and I got plenty of sleep today."
I hope Bruce understands we didn't mean anything by it when he watches our snooping back on the hidden camera feed.

>>6315877
>>"Sure, Grey warned me it would be a double and I got plenty of sleep today."

>>6315877
>"Sure, Grey warned me it would be a double and I got plenty of sleep today."

Alfred continues to be awesome

>>6315877
>"Sure, but shouldn't the offer also extend to Banks and the others? If it wouldn't be too much work for you to accommodate some extra seats?"
We can offer to help prep, even.

>>6315877
>"Sure, Grey warned me it would be a double and I got plenty of sleep today."
Let's roll

>>6315877
>"Sure, Grey warned me it would be a double and I got plenty of sleep today."

>>6315879
>>6315881
>>6315887
>>6315924

"Sure, Grey warned me it would be a double and I got plenty of sleep today." You look to Pennyworth. "I could help too, pretty handy with a knife actually."

"I appreciate the offer, but I have handled all of Master Wayne's meals since he was a child." Pennyworth says evenly, but you detect the underglow of pride. "Even when entertaining."

"I assume he had more than two guests at a time usually, eh?" Hawthorne asks.

"Most definitely, sir." Pennyworth replies. "Now, I must finish tending to the house and get my rest if I'm to be of service in the morning."

"Goodnight, Mr. Pennyworth." You offer politely.

Hawthorne offers a grunt and a nod which Pennyworth returns with dignified silence and a shallow bow. Turning stiffly he vanishes down the hallway you just came from. You and Hawthorne share a glance as his footsteps recede into the echoing darkness, punctuated by the faintest sound of a lock being engaged. Hawthorne's shoulders hop once with something mixed between a scoff and a chuckle as he jerks his head towards the other hallway.

"Come on, I promised you a lesson on clearing a house." He mumbles under his breath as you follow along. "We can talk after Emilio Lopez there goes to bed."

Going further into the manor Hawthorne talks over his shoulder to you.

"So you know a few tricks already, that means this'll be a quiz and a lesson all wrapped up in one. Let's take this for instance." His hand slaps a heavy door. "Now don't go whole hog on it, doubt the department could afford to replace it. Look at it and tell me what you see."

"Hinges hidden, that means it swings inwards."

"Right, so when you go to pie it don't half-ass the job. You wanna throw the door open as you hold one of the sides here." He presses himself against the wall as he clutches a phantom pistol. "You're on the left so how are you pie-ing this out?"

You mirror his posturing on the other side as you open the imaginary soor and then step out, hand raised.

"Start far right and clear left a sliver at a time as I step."

"Nothing goes past that door before you clear your sightlines. Your partner will cover the other half but if you're flying solo then it's a step back, half circle keeping that gun up as you cross from one flank to the other."

You demonstrate the technique and Hawthorne nods along before gently pushing you back a step further.

"Doors are bottlenecks." He says simply. "Everyone knows that if you wanna get in a room you gotta take the door, means anyone inside waiting for you knows exactly where to be looking or where to get the jump on you. That means you stay far enough away when you do this that some asshole can't stick a blind arm out and grab you or your weapon."

"But, what if I went for a window? Or-"

>>6315976
>>6315979
>>6316086

"Look. We aren't always paid to be smart." Hawthorne cuts you off. "Most of the time we get paid to do the dumb shit nobody else is willing to. That's why these kinds of drills and experience are important."

"Any other tips then?"

"Question, actually. The door opens inwards, right? Where does that put the most danger in the room?"

You pause for a moment and glance at the dark oak.

"Behind the door?"

"Right, that's why when you check these for real you wanna toss it out as hard as you can. If you don't hear it bounce off the wall then it isn't clear... or maybe he's just real skinny."

"But what if it's one of those doors with the hydraulics? Or if it's already open?"

Hawthorne grunts and turns the knob to the study, leaving the door wide open.

"First. You clear like normal." He states, giving the door a wide berth as he slowly and steadily swaps sides. "Then when you go for entry..."

He sticks his foot flush against the base of the door about halfway then he leans forward to grip the knob and gives the door a few solid tugs.

"Don't step too close because then you won't be able to get into the room enough to properly clear it. Your foot on the door is your anchor, your pivot point, keeps the door secure incase anyone tries to push it on you."

"But what do I do after that? Someone behind the door tries to slam it on me and it bounces off my foot?"

"Equal and opposite reaction." He says before driving his shoulder into the door, rapidly slowing before he makes contact. "Odds are they'll be standing there like a dipshit wondering what went wrong. So send it back at em."

He steps into the office and vanishing behind the door. His hand snaking around to gesture you closer before he starts blindly and slowly grabbing.

"THIS. Is not the move of an expert criminal, but you'd be surprised how many people pull it and how many people get gotten by it. Too many damn TV shows have a cop walking in with his gun held out in front of him like a blind fellas cane, they figure they can get the jump on you and wrestle it out." His hand finds your wrist and he grips firmly but not tightly. "Let's assume someone got the jump on you like this. What do you do?"

>Shoulder check the door at Hawthorne, lightly.
>Mime clicking on the safety and letting your gun go before drawing your tazer.
>Grip his wrist back and pull him and the door with you as you back up, catching his hand in between the frame and your gun.
>Draw your baton and bring it down on the wrist gently.
>Write-In

>>6316608
>>Draw your baton and bring it down on the wrist gently.
I have no clue about cqc but "never let go of your gun" seems like a safe bet

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>>6316608
>Shoulder check the door at Hawthorne, lightly.
Can't just drop our sidearm and disengage for obvious reasons.
Staying in that doorway playing tug-of-war is a death sentence as Hawthorne said however.
One might check the door back into the perp forcefully so as to break their grip AND allow them to bounce back out the doorway immediately, though this isn't guaranteed to work.
While it's not ideal, pic related is a popular sentiment in the LEO community for a reason. Immediate violent action is the name of the game here.

>>6316608
>Grip his wrist back and pull him and the door with you as you back up, catching his hand in between the frame and your gun.

Make his body move in ways that a human body should not.

>>6316785
+1, seems like it would break an arm if they didn't let go.

>>6316608

>>6316785
+1

>>6316607
>Shoulder check the door at Hawthorne, lightly.
>>6316785
Wouldn't that turn into a tug of war?

>>6316971
Everything here would. The idea is to force your opponent to move in a way that the human body cannot.

Like bending an elbow backwards to break a grab. You wrench their wrists and possibly even injure them on the door. It’ll make holding the gun impossible.

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>>6316785
>>6316798
>>6316924

If this were a real situation you'd have to act immediately. You briefly consider drawing your baton or tazer but taking your focus away from keeping your grip could be even worse. You pull back slightly and prepare the check the door when Hawthorne's voice echoes in your head.

"...Your foot on the door is your anchor..."

You've been under him long enough to start knowing how he thinks. He's got that foot planted, waiting for you to bounce off the door so he can wrench the gun from your hands, so you don't fall for it. Your free hand shoots out, clamping around his wrist, as you simultaneously walk backwards. You take long slow steps as not to actually hurt him but the effect is still displayed. Hawthorne's forearm is held fast against the edge of the door. The angle he holds your weapon doesn't give him the leverage to pull back, not without letting your weapon free, so you keep retreating making sure to use your legs instead of your upper body to pull his wrist into a point where it's sandwiched between the doorframe and the door. Hawthorne's hand releases and gives you a thumbs up as he takes a step back and pulls the door wide while rubbing his wrist.

"Not bad, rook. Not bad at all. Most people get grabbed by the arm and forget they got a set of working legs right under em. You walk on em all day, odds are they'll give you a better chance than your arms."

"Unless you have arms like Kimble."

"Kimble's a freak of nature. He wakes up and starts doing burpees. He actually likes em, the sick son of a bitch." Hawthorne chuckles.

"I know..." You reply with exaggerated sadness.

"Yeah well, you seem in good shape to me. Not too much longer before we're off special assignment and back to patrols."

"I'm excited. It's been fun working all the cases we get, helping out the Detectives or whoever. But I'm not looking to skip the line, I wanna put in my hours on the beat like everyone else. Well, if I leave the beat at all."

"What's that mean?" Hawthorne asks, arcing a bro as he steps into the study and sits on the plush arm of a leather chair.

"Nothing just... I promised Banks that if he ends up getting iced out due to the Gorchakov thing that I would stay on beat with him. Partner up so he wasn't alone."

"Jesus Christ, kid..." Hawthorne groans.

"What? I can't just abandon him, especially since I'm the one that convinced him to take the stand."

"He shouldn't have needed convincing. He shouldn't have gotten involved with Gorchakov's games in the first place. First time he was told to do something on the low he should have gone and reported it to Kimble or Reiner."

"You don't mean that."

"Why not? Look, he's fresh. Not as fresh as you but still, in the time he was here before you he was trying anything he could to jump ranks or get in with a specialty team. Undercover, Narco, SWAT, anyone who would listen got a sales pitch."

"He's ambitious, There isn-"

"He's hungry is what he is." Hawthorne cuts you off. "He's too fixated on making himself look good that he leaves the police work on the side. Banks is trying to make a point. To prove something to someone, maybe even himself. But you didn't cause his problem, you shouldn't shoot your career in the head before it even starts."

"Banks is a good guy. He's a good cop, he stood right there with me and Kimble when FireBug came at us. He took a ball of napalm for Dent."

"He did his job." Hawthorne says simply. "Then after that he went back to being Gorchakov's gopher because he was so blinded by MAYBE getting to work in Undercover that he was willing to ignore the marching band of flags waving in his face. I don't dislike him, I don't think he's a bad cop, but I do think he's shortsighted and you're destined for better things than walking a beat your whole life."

"Seems to have worked out for you." You reply curtly.

Hawthorne only glares at you before letting out a slow sigh and then shrugging.

"Horses and water." He mumbles. "Come in here and close the door, since this chat isn't going anywhere how about we talk about something else."

You step in and gently close the door, giving the hall a quick left and right in search of Pennyworth. It clicks and you find a desk chair to sit in.

"So." Hawthorne prods. "The letter, Blackgate like I thought?"

>Tell Hawthorne everything, including your shivers vision and 'feeling' regarding that clock.
>Tell Hawthorne about the contents of the letter, if what your gut is telling you is true maybe you should play what you saw close to the chest.
>"Letter was a bust, love letter from some heiress or something. I didn't read it through."
>Write-In

Also
>How does Mark feel about what Hawthorne said about Banks? Does it change his plan to keep the promise of staying on beat?

>>6317870
>Tell Hawthorne everything, including your shivers vision and 'feeling' regarding that clock.
He's running the show here, best we give him everything we have and let him decide what to do with it.
>How does Mark feel[...}?
Hawthorne has a point. It wouldn't do us any good to shitcan our own career just to keep that promise. That said, if Banks DOES get iced out (which may not even happen), it's not like that's the end of things. If we make detective, we might be able to start throwing our weight around on his behalf after a while.
Whatever the case, It's certainly something we should bring up to Banks when we get a chance.

>>6317870
>Tell Hawthorne about the contents of the letter, if what your gut is telling you is true maybe you should play what you saw close to the chest.
Also
>We can live in denial for now, hopinf it never comes down to that because Banks doesn't get frozen out
Again: the cop he flipped on is also a traitorous cop-KILLER. I don't think anyone will begrudge him.

>>6317884
>Again: the cop he flipped on is also a traitorous cop-KILLER. I don't think anyone will begrudge him.
You'd think that, but the fact that he's testifying against his 'fellow cop" is all a lot of shitheads will care about. That whole brothers in blue bullshit runs deep in every department man.

>>6317889
>the fact that he's testifying against his 'fellow cop" is all a lot of shitheads will care about. That whole brothers in blue bullshit runs deep in every department man.
Would they rather he kill them instead of testifying against them? Because that's what Gorchakov was doing

>>6317870
Backing >>6317884 though we should still bring it up to Banks later like >>6317879 said

>>6317870
>Tell Hawthorne about the contents of the letter, if what your gut is telling you is true maybe you should play what you saw close to the chest.

>How does Mark feel about Banks?
We can definitely take steps to make sure that more people in the department know about his partner’s murder. Let’s see the shitheads side with him then…

>>6317998
Gorchakov’s partner, I mean

>>6317998
>>6317884

"Yeah. It's dated for two days before Halloween, from the warden."

"Son of a bitch." Hawthorne growls.

"Relax it wasn't personal correspondence. He was writing Wayne to let him know about a specific prisoner he'd asked about earlier this year. Joe Chill."

"Chill..." Hawthorne rolls the word around as he squints. "What about him?"

"Apparently Wayne asked that he stay in Blackgate even after it goes federal with ARGUS. He also, not so subtly, tried to get Wayne to lean on city hall so they'd approve some plan of shifting the cons from Blackgate to Arkham until they find new cells for em out of county. Didn't seem familiar, it read like the runner up in an ass-kissing competition."

"Still. Shifting inmates to Arkham?"

"Guessing most of the Arkham inmates are gonna get shunted to whatever ARGUS makes out of Blackgate, where's that leave the hospital?"

"I don't know but my gut tells me Wayne wasn't in on the riots."

Hawthorne sucks his teeth and slides off the arm into the plush chair with a soft puff.

"Yeah... nothing from your shivers?"

"Old memories of his. Him and the butler, talking about that kid he took in." You say simply, better a half truth than a full lie. Even if it is only a lie of omission.

Hawthorne grunts and nods.

"Sir, can I ask you something? Regarding Banks?" You inquire, shifting the subject.

"Shoot."

"He seems really worried about his career taking a hit from this but... I don't really get it. He's doing the right thing here."

"The right thing is different for everyone, kid."

"I could understand that if this was as simple as taking a bribe or maybe turning a blind eye to something minor. But Gorchakov killed a cop."

"It's not that cut and dry, Mark."

"He killed a fucking cop." You reiterate. "He could have and probably would have killed ANY of them. Any of US. If they got in the way or learned too much. What did they expect Banks to do?"

"You want the handbook answer or the real answer?"

"What?"

"You've seen a good side of the GCPD, Mark. You've experienced a little razzing like the superman stunt, you were bothered by Kimble's methods with his CI's, and I saw you go green in the gills when Fischer made it clear he'd have rather seen that junkie kid's head get ventilated than spare a man to book him. And those are just the small blemishes on that side of the face."

"It's not like you to sugar coat things, Hawthorne. You think I won't see this stuff myself eventually?"

"I know you will." He says firmly. "But my job is not just to train you in how to be a cop. It's to evaluate you and decide what you're ready to deal with."

"And you think I can't deal with it?"

Hawthorne sighs.

"Fine. God's honest it is. This isn't about Banks or Gorchakov, it isn't even about the badges he put black stripes on. It's about them. Every individual officer it's about him or her." He leans forward in his seat, his eyes locked on yours. "This mess with Gorchakov, I can't tell you what people expected from Banks. But I can tell you what they would have preferred; a bullet in Gorchie's head and an investigation that gets nowhere. Preferably blamed on a gang."

You blink a few times and your jaw works but no sound comes out as you try to rationalize this.

"Think about it." Hawthorne says, spotting your bewilderment. "Gorchakov gets turned in. Every case he's ever touched is tainted. Any cops who worked those cases are gonna be under the microscope now. Anyone who signed an evidence log, watched over a scene, collected spent casings. Every. Single. One. Of those people are gonna have IA swarming them like flies on shit. Our ENTIRE department is gonna be looked into which means the guys who did what you said earlier are all sweating because the time they let their sister skate by on a petty theft could pop up on the radar now all because of one person. Anthony Banks."

"But I thought Gordon-"

"Slayed the dragon? Pulled out corruption by the stem, roots and all? Corruption isn't a plant Mark, it's a fuckin fungus. So long as one spore lives the whole fucking mushroom'll spring up again. Then those mushrooms take in new recruits and make them spores of the same kind. It's why Gordon wanted to implement this TO program city-wide. The Watch Commanders are all hand picked by him, who in turn, approve who can and can't be a TO."

"How the hell did Gorchakov get approved?"

"Connections. Happened before Reiner replaced the last Watch Commander and then the union rep made sure he kept that spot. He knew a lot of people, probably buddies at his strip joint poker sessions, all of em probably more pissed off than your average grunt at Banks. All of em holding their jobs the same way he did, for now. Gordon didn't win a battle when he became commissioner after exposing Loeb, he enlisted in a war."

"So the GCPD is just as messed up as it's always been..." You say quietly.

"Bullshit." Hawthorne corrects, his voice firm but not angry. "I lived through this shit when it was at it's lowest. I was given the same opportunities to get in the mud. Got offers that would make make any normal kid from the Narrows thank Christ almighty, let alone someone who moved up from cardboard to plywood. But I never considered em and it wasn't because of honor or some other bullshit. It was because all I saw was another asshole thinking money meant they could do anything they wanted."

"So you said no but still moved up. You ran with SWAT and Narcotics, you're a Sergeant! Banks could do the same."

"Mark..." Hawthorne speaks lightly. His eyes have shifted, that righteous fire now dull as he drops his eyes to his hands as he slowly rotates his wedding band. "I know you have a high opinion of me... Not a lot of people do, especially not many people like you, but you need to know I'm not perfect."

"I know that."

"No. Not really. I still moved up through the ranks and got my chances because even though I didn't pocket the cash... I didn't say anything about the ones who did. I was never a participant but I sure as shit was complicit."

"What..."

"Times were different. Not an excuse but, I wasn't worried about my career going to shit, I was worried about Suzie and my boy. So I kept my mouth shut, I let things slide, one of those offers I was telling you about... Falcone capo came to me and my partner during the time Grey and I were split up. We had responded to 242 at one of the family's favorite bistros. Some schmuck was in the back with a fork jammed between two ribs. What did he do to deserve that? He slurped his pasta while the that capo was trying to talk on the phone. By the time we got there the guy was pretty adamant he'd tripped getting up from the table and did it to himself."

You frown and swallow what feels like a ball of sandpaper as you listen. Hawthorne's face shows it's full age as he tells this story, his usual stoic features seeming to sag with time and regret.

"This son of a bitch, this arrogant pigheaded prick of a wise guy, we asked him if that was correct and he laughed. 'Disrespected him in his own joint' he said. 'Accident was bound to happen.'" Hawthorne scoffs. "But because someone else called it in we had to put something in the report, make it look clean, he offered us five grand apiece to put down that we checked the cameras and what we saw backed up the tripping story."

"And you..."

"Turned him down, like I said. But my partner... he said 'Shit! I'll take his half!' like it was a joke." Hawthorne's hand curls into a fist so tight you hear a knuckle crack. "Then he laughed. And the capo laughed. And... fuck me. So did I. We all fucking laughed it up while a guy with cutlery in his chest sat there staining a kitchen towel. But the real fucking joke was that after Gordon took over, I figured I could make up for everything I looked past. That there was no reason I couldn't be the man Suzie thought I was. When things were easy I ran down every scumbag I could find, like a man possessed, to try and make up for being a spineless pussy when it was hard to do the right thing... and it got her killed. All those turned cheeks and unheard conversations. For nothing. I didn't protect a fucking thing except myself."

The silence between you feels like a physical gulf. The air as solid as any wall. Your brain running all his words through your mind as you process this. You never thought Hawthorne was a saint but at the same time... you don't even know what to think. The quiet lingers until Hawthorne straightens up and meets your eyes again. He looks tired.

"You're the first person I told all that to... and I understand if this changes things. But I thought about what you said. 'No secrets' you deserve that, Mark."

>"You did what you had to do for your family and trust me I know just how tight those bonds are. The fact you're still torn up about it after this long means you were never like them. Not really."
>"I don’t really know what to say to that, sir... I mean, I get it, I do. I just... never thought you could do something like that. Not after everything you’ve taught me about being a good cop."
>"I understand times were different... But I don't know how to trust a system based on silence. One that's STILL based on silence. I wanted to make a difference but with everything you’ve told me it seems that it never changes. If Gordon couldn’t do it there’s no way I could. Not really."
>Write-In


Since we got a small amount of votes but some good chatter I decided to incorporate it into the scene. Please let me know what you guys think as this is probably the biggest Hawthorne lore dump yet and I'm curious what your thoughts as players are on this. Also, I haven't asked in a while so as a secret extra vote for the Author's note readers...

>Who is your favorite character in the quest so far and why?

I hope you guys enjoyed reading this chat as much as I enjoyed writing it. See you soon.

>>6318325
>"I understand times were different... But I don't know how to trust a system based on silence. One that's STILL based on silence. I wanted to make a difference but with everything you’ve told me it seems that it never changes. If Gordon couldn’t do it there’s no way I could. Not really."
Hawthorne's clearly been sitting with this a long time, so I'm not about to try and placate him on this. What I am more worried about, from Mark's perspective, is how you even navigate that sort of system without being a part of it.
It feels like the moment we stand up and do the right thing, it's gonna paint a gigantic target on our back. Us and anybody we might care about...like it's already done with this whole SIM business.
Christ, why's Gotham gotta be a fucking mess on every level!?
I feel like this is a well earned bit of melodrama. He's an old man and we've been through enough bullshit together already to justify him trusting us enough to confide in us like this. I also like how it presents the ever-present issue of systemic corruption and the challenges that poses to characters who have to actively engage with it like Mark, Hawthorne, Banks, anybody who doesn't have the ability to buck the system entirely like a classic Cape. Feels very appropriate given the hook of this Quest.
As for my favorite...it's hard to say. I wanna put down Hawthorne, but that might just be because he's the one we've had the most time with and know the most about. I don't know, I think you do a good enough job writing characters in general that it's hard to say any stick out as my absolute favorite.

>>6318325
>Write-in
“With all due respect sir, fuck that. I’m not going to hold things against you that I’ve never seen for myself.”

“I get that you have a hard time letting that go. But all I’ve seen is a TO who wants to leave a better GCPD than he came into.”

“All this business about Banks and staying on the beat? I did that because of what you told me about the force, about what we could be.”

>>6318338
>>6318338
Can't we do both of these? or is it conflicting too much?

>It feels like the moment we stand up and do the right thing, it's gonna paint a gigantic target on our back. Us and anybody we might care about...like it's already done with this whole SIM business.
Not only is Mark a good guy cop, he's also a meta without being a cape. That's double the target layers.
>Christ, why's Gotham gotta be a fucking mess on every level!?
Blame the comic writers
>the ever-present issue of systemic corruption and the challenges that poses to characters who have to actively engage with it like Mark, Hawthorne, Banks, anybody who doesn't have the ability to buck the system entirely like a classic Cape
We play Mark as the good guy Shivers cop but you can't full Disco Elysium in Gotham. Mark as a character is no messiah, and neither are we the voters and players, and neither is the QM writing this. Any of us here, players and QM, might be liable to fall for this sort of thing and take the money in real life if we were ever offered it. That's the REAL devil deal right there. And what can any of us do about human nature, about the animal survival instinct wearing a modern suit and tie, living in a society on a world where money equals power time and time again? What can any of us do other than what we're already doing as individuals?

>>6318325
Caught back up at last. Really enjoyed reading everything that happened on Halloween night and the stuff with Allison was all pretty cute. Glad anons didn't choose to be retards and hide how fucked up Mark's life has become from her like some sort of dumbass cape. Like Nia.
>"I understand times were different... But I don't know how to trust a system based on silence. One that's STILL based on silence. I wanted to make a difference but with everything you’ve told me it seems that it never changes. If Gordon couldn’t do it there’s no way I could. Not really."

>Who is your favorite character in the quest so far and why?
Probably the Question. He's always entertaining when he shows up, I like his interactions with Mark and I enjoyed watching how his character has developed over the course of the quest. Mark's earnest boy scout routine is more effective than any therapy or medication.

>>6318399
>Like Nia.
Legit forgot she existed before I read your post. You know, probably a good sign.

>>6318399
>Like Nia

Fuuuuuck anon, now she’s gonna show up again. Don’t even mention that bitch’s name.

>>6318325
>"You did what you had to do for your family and trust me I know just how tight those bonds are. The fact you're still torn up about it after this long means you were never like them. Not really."

Question, or Hawthorne for OCs.

>>6318337
>Christ, why's Gotham gotta be a fucking mess on every level!?
Multidimensional and multiversal demonic bat monster.

>>6318533
>Multidimensional and multiversal demonic bat monster.
I REALLY wish they'd stop doing these types of retcons. Cheapens the fuck outta these stories to make every issue in the setting the machinations of a single big bad evil guy retroactively.

>>6318538
>Cheapens the fuck outta these stories to make every issue in the setting the machinations of a single big bad evil guy retroactively.
But that's how it is and how it has always been in real life? Online too. Whenever some stupid fucked up shit happens it's almost always 1 deranged sociopath creature behind it all- and if it's multiple people, they will not be more than single digit numbers of individuals, guaranteed. It's this shit over and over again

Update: I am being tasked with a double so I won't really have time for an update tonight. I'll leave the vote open and try to get an earlier update in tomorrow. If you have any Q&A style questions or story things you want clarified feel free to ask now and I can occasionally pop in for short responses to those tonight. I just can't crank out a full update sadly.

In the mean-time feel if you haven't voted you should go ahead and do that. (I'm talking directly to you, anon. Stop lurking.)

>>6318325
>>"I understand times were different... But I don't know how to trust a system based on silence. One that's STILL based on silence. I wanted to make a difference but with everything you’ve told me it seems that it never changes. If Gordon couldn’t do it there’s no way I could. Not really."
So Banks is still fucked and is going to be two-face. Got it.

>>6318906
Nah, we'll keep him honest.

>>6318337
>>6318399
>>6318906

The silence drags on a few seconds longer as you gather your swirling thoughts. Eventually you clear your throat awkwardly and speak up.

"I understand times were different... But I don't know how to trust a system based on silence. One that's STILL based on silence. I wanted to make a difference but with everything you’ve told me it seems that it never changes. If Gordon couldn’t do it there’s no way I could. Not really."

"Now you listen." Hawthorne begins, his voice gathering more of that steel it typically holds. "I didn't tell you that so you could let it stop you. I told you so you'd understand the slant of the hill you're pushing this rock up."

"Hawthorne, I'm jus-"

"I ain't done." He cuts you off. "Now you're right, you're no Jim Gordon. You're green as they come, lack real world experience, and you don't understand the full scope of the problem you wanna fix... but so was Gordon once. It's like I said; Gordon thought he was picking a fight with Loeb but really he was signing up for a war. The edge you get over him is you can go into that war with both eyes open."

"So what I should be encouraged by the fact that things have barely changed? Gotten marginally better?"

"Change is change. You weren't the person to start this shift and you might not even be around to see it finally work out. I know I won't. But I'm gonna leave knowing that the GCPD is better now than when I started, that what I did helped people even if it came late. Even if I could have helped more." He slides forward until he's on the edge of his seat, his elbows digging into his legs as he leans forward. "The thing you got over everyone else is who you are. I'm not like you. You've got the kind of integrity you can't teach, you and Gordon both. That's why I respect both of ya."

You look in his eyes and you see the emotion there. Blunt and forward as always. Pride. You nod.

"Now I didn't say all that so we could throw a pity party for either one of us. I fucked up but I'm doing my best to fix it. That's what a man does. Besides, I plan on making up for some of my own shit by setting you loose on the department someday because I believe that with some time you'll end up a damn fine officer." He straightens up in his seat and holds your eye. "Because even though I rag on you for sounding like an Eagle scout troop leader sometimes; I believe you mean what you say with everything you got."

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"I do."

"Do you?" He scoffs. "Cause it sounded to me like you were wondering the point of it all just a second ago. You were gonna learn this sooner or later, son. The deck's stacked against you, that's your weight to carry. But the real question is if you're gonna use this weight as something you lift to become stronger or if you're gonna let it pull you down like an anchor."

You remember that phrase well from your earliest days of training, just a few months ago, everything seems so different now. Hawthorne rises from his seat and approaches yours as he holds out his hand.

"You're not gonna let it be an anchor, are you?" He asks firmly.

"No, sir." You reply, grasping his hand and rising to meet him as he claps your shoulder.

"Good man. Now let's-"

The radio crackles to life and you hear Bunko's meandering voice come through.

"Sergeant, I got someone on the street out here, sedan with the brights on just facing the gates. Haven't made a move yet but it's been over five minutes."

Hawthorne goes to grab his belt walkie only for another crackle. This time Banks.

"Also got something in the rear garden near the cemetery, Sarge. Found a coat tossed over the top of the fence, someone might have hopped it."

Hawthorne mutters a curse as you speak.

"Do we do something?"

"Like what?" He replies

>"Like I go and check out the cemetery. Give Costas and Banks a hand sweeping it."
>"Like I go and make sure Bunko isn't freaking out over a pizza delivery boy."
>"Like you go and check out the cemetery. Give Costas and Banks a hand sweeping it."
>"Like you go and make sure Bunko isn't freaking out over a pizza delivery boy."
>"Fair point... we should stay here. We're the house team after all."
>Write-In

>>6318978
>"Like I go and check out the cemetery. Give Costas and Banks a hand sweeping it."

>>6318978
>"Like I go and check out the cemetery. Give Costas and Banks a hand sweeping it."

Also, I don't knwo if it's been proposed yet but we'd be damn good in IA.

>>6318978
>"Fair point... we should stay here. We're the house team after all."
>Write-In
“Everyone, comms check every 5 mins. Mansion team is staying put. Two things at the same time? Someones playing games with us. Keep your eyes open. Bunko, see if you can tell them to get moving.”

If possible, call in a potential disturbance but no assistance required at this time so at least someone outside knows of something ongoing.

This is a setup. The coat could have been easily pulled after crossing. It was left there for a singular purpose, to be found. The car too is a distraction that requires resolving.

>>6318978
>"Like I go and check out the cemetery. Give Costas and Banks a hand sweeping it."
More of a Grecian phrase than Roman, but that phrase about planting trees you’ll never rest under popped up in my mind from Hawthorne’s speech.

>>6318978
>"Fair point... we should stay here. We're the house team after all."
>>6318988
This, do NOT fall for distractions!

>>6318988
+1

>>6318978
>"Fair point... we should stay here. We're the house team after all."
We were assigned to guard the HOUSE, how about we do our job?

>>6318978
>>6318988
+1

>>6318978
>>"Fair point... we should stay here. We're the house team after all."
>>Write-In
We have meta powers. We know this is a major gotham centerpoint given the red lady influence.

Why don't we just get a feel for the area the same way we did for the sewers and FEEL if something is off?

>>6319316
I think trying to use shivers in Bruce Wayne’s house would be the shivers equivalent of looking at 50 flash bangs go off

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>>6319601
At the very least we'd get a stellar BTAS reference.

>>6318988
>>"Fair point... we should stay here. We're the house team after all."
>>Write-In
>“Everyone, comms check every 5 mins. Mansion team is staying put. Two things at the same time? Someones playing games with us. Keep your eyes open. Bunko, see if you can tell them to get moving.”
>If possible, call in a potential disturbance but no assistance required at this time so at least someone outside knows of something ongoing.
>This is a setup. The coat could have been easily pulled after crossing. It was left there for a singular purpose, to be found. The car too is a distraction that requires resolving.

Too good of a point to pass on.

>>6319834
Question is rubbing off on us, kek. Okay.

>>6318978
Changing >>6318983 to instead back >>6319834

>>6319834
+1

>>6318988
>>6318990
>>6319001
>>6319094
>>6319834
>>6319844
>>6319880

"Fair point... we should stay here. We're the house team after all."

"Exactly right, rook." Hawthorne replies lifting the radio.

"Uh sir... there is one thing though."

"Spit it out, they're waiting on our call."

"Just... this stinks. Two things at once? A conspicuous car out front making itself stand out AND a jacket that was just LEFT on the fence? When the first thing anyone would do after making that hop-"

"Is to take it with em..."

"Especially with two flashlights wandering around out there, we aren't exactly being subtle about us being here."

"You might be onto something, rook." Hawthorne grunts before handing over the radio. "Show me you know how to delegate."

You accept the brick from his hands and depress the button.

"Everyone. We're gonna be doing comm checks every five minutes on the minute, simple 'radio check' will do. Mansion team is gonna stay put, I think someone might be playing games with us. Banks and Costa, keep your eyes open, whoever left that coat maybe wanted it to be found. Bunko and Chen, have a talk with that driver and see if you can't get em to move along or produce some ID that proves they live in the area."

You release the button and glance to Hawthorne who nods once and takes his walkie back before holding it to his own mouth. All the while heading for the door back to the halls.

"You get that?" He asks simply.

"Received, Sergeant." They reply piece by piece.

"Sir? Should we call this in? Not full on lights and everything but just let dispatch know we have a disturbance?"

"I don't know. Should we?" He raises an eyebrow.

You take the hint and lift your own belt walkie.

"Dispatch, this is 1-Adam-0, we have an 11-54 at Wayne Manor and potential 415. Code 6 for now but please stand-by to receive." You stand there in awkward silence for a few seconds before Hawthorne slaps your bicep and clears his throat. "Oh uh.. how copy?"

"Received, 1-Adam-0, alerting patrols in surrounding area of potential 415 at Wayne Manor but holding them for now. Over and out."

The line goes dead and you sheath your radio while Hawthorne nods approvingly.

"Bit awkward but you got the point across." He chuckles. "We're gonna split. I'll take the front door and west wing, you take the back and the east. Check in... three minutes. Then every five like you said."

"Understood, I'll radio if anything comes up."

"Same. Keep your eyes up."

You watch Hawthorne vanish down the dark hall, the clicking of his boots slowly fading with him. You lightly touch your backup's grip, tucked firmly in your belt, an act that brings you a little more peace of mind than you expected as you start your own patrol. The windows are tall and framed with blackened steel or wrought iron, like something out of a Bram Stoker novel, running your fingers along the base make it clear that the only way to open these is with something heavy.

The more you walk the more those ephemeral whispers have spikes of emotion. There's no words you can make out clearly but more than once you're washed over with the icy water of fear or feel your heart shrink with a sense of inevitable dread. You pause by one of the tall gothic windows and stare out into the night swearing you feel something looking back at you. Somewhere in Gotham... high above it all, a man looks down on the lights of the city and the blackness between like the squares of a chessboard. You shake off the sensation and raise your radio.

"Check-in."

"Clear for now, still sweeping." Banks replies.

"West Wing is clear." Hawthorne answers.

"Driver for the sedan pulled out when Bunko approached, I got half a plate that I'm trying to match to make and model." Chen answers.

"Bunko get a description of the driver?" Hawthorne asks through crackling static.

"Male, average build, wearing a some kind of hat like a fedora or something."

Your stomach clenches. Please God don't let it be who you think it is...

"Costas, Banks. That jacket you found, describe it." Hawthorne asks probably sharing your same flop-sweat.

"Track jacket, red with those white stripes down the side." Costas replies. "No sign of anything apart from that so far."

"Copy. Next check in five." Hawthorne says simply.

You let out a sigh of relief and sheath the radio. At least it isn't another instance of your worlds bumping, but still something about this all is making the back of your brain itch. The pieces of the puzzle you've picked up so far aren't quite meshing. As you make it to the back of the house you stand before two grand glass doors that lead out to a small patio surrounded by luscious foliage. Deep green dotted with colorful flowers that are only now starting to lose their vibrance and wilt. Then something catches your eye... the faintest rustle of the plants. Probably the wind or an animal... or something else. You freeze and reach to the switches mounted on the wall. One flick and the back patio is drenched in light and as you stare you realize you've already put hand to holster.

Thump.

Your grip tightens, impressing the diamond hatch into your palm as you look up towards the source of the sound. It's deep and rhythmic like a heartbeat that looms directly overhead.

Thump.

You glance outside again and feel that familiar prickle only to have another sound bring your eyes back up. You can't explain why your mouth is bone dry and your eyes refuse to blink, but the silence in your head lets you know it's more than instinct and paranoia putting you on edge. Something is near you. Something alive.

>This is exactly why you're working in pairs. Radio Hawthorne to sweep the upstairs while you check out the back patio.
>You haven't really SEEN anything outside, but that noise? It's there. You need to check it out.
>That sound could be anything, but more likely than not it's Pennyworth getting ready for bed or maybe Bruce woke up. You definitely saw something move outside, you should check it.
>Write-in

>>6320547
>>This is exactly why you're working in pairs. Radio Hawthorne to sweep the upstairs while you check out the back patio.
What is this, the Spencer Estate? This place got immensely spooky all of the sudden.

>>6320547
>This is exactly why you're working in pairs. Radio Hawthorne to sweep the upstairs while you check out the back patio.

>>6320551
It is where Gotham's hammiest goth lives.

>>6320547
>This is exactly why you're working in pairs. Radio Hawthorne to sweep the upstairs while you check out the back patio.

>>6320547
>This is exactly why you're working in pairs. Radio Hawthorne to sweep the upstairs while you check out the back patio.
Is the Bat himself lurking near? When he knows we're on the job and Alfred told him we didn't touch the clock hands?

>>6320547
We don't need to go out. There's only one way in and out from our position. The door.

If it's there and wants to come in, it has to go through the door. Why not have the rear team investigate while we hold the door.

We go down, and bogey has minutes of clearance.

>>6320655
But that puts the rear team in danger... though if anything happens we can always bust out the door and draw a bead on any Uniform Tango in the vicinity, right?

>>6320547
>This is exactly why you're working in pairs. Radio Hawthorne to sweep the upstairs while you check out the back patio.

>>6320658
... someone's gonna be in danger if there is danger

But us down means someone can get in the house. If someone gets attacked outside, we can help

>>6320547
I agree with >>6320655
Better to hold the door and call for backup.