(((JOE)))
Batman: Gotham underground 3/3: disturbance
A Gotham gazette newspaper stand.
An aged paper vender of about 70 sits slouched in his paper stand reading through the days paper fo the 3 time today. Not to far down the street a speeding red Cadillac pulls to the pavement up resting its tyres on the age old slabs of stone. Out the front of the car steps the hooded driver. His crimson red hoody and masked pale face draw attention from passerby. In one hand he carries a furnace lighter marked with an A and in the other, a litre of pure black oil. With no amount of precision, he creates a wonky line of oil stretching from just outside the door of the car and down to gothams subway. He continues the line of priceless black gold as he jumps down to the subway tracks disappearing into the dark abyss of the tunnel. Strange actions such as these are not unfamiliar to most Gothamites. His now fleeing audience know exactly what’s coming and in seconds the station becomes completely scarce. Or at least it does for a moment. The haunting glow of a trains headlamps make the oil shimmer in the otherwise dark tunnel. The hooded anarchist drops the flaming lighter and is gone from the tracks within seconds, speaking through the cracks in his mask
The anarchist: And now come the fireworks
He hops over the barrier, running with great pace up to ground level, leaping into the cars front seat and driving recklessly in the opposite direction as the fatal display of fireworks erupt behind him. In the back of the Cadillac sits a well dressed man of around 4 foot. To the anarchists suprise he makes his presence noticed: Oswald cobblepott. Pleased to meet you
The anarchist: How strange?
Oswald cobblepott: You might have heard my families name. Most have
His croaky voice bothers the anarchist leaving him no option but to question the man as to why he sits in the back of the car as if it is a perfectly normal thing to do. Before the anarchist can question the man he finds himself answering questions of his own
Oswald cobblepott: Why? Why a subway? Why not city hall? Or the GCPD?
The anarchist responds in an unnerving and somewhat monotonous voice: If the crime had a reason, it would be some form of democracy. Hence the opposite of what I stand for
Oswald cobblepott: And what do you stand for exactly?
The anarchist: What a predictable question to ask
Oswald cobblepott: A significant one nonetheless.
The anarchist: Perhaps..but at this moment in time I’d much rather know why exactly it is that your sat in the back of my automobile when I have business that needs to be seen to
Oswald cobblepott: I require your...expertise.
The anarchist: Then its not your lucky day is it
Cobblepotts tone changes completely and Lonnie sees the real Oswald. Angry and disturbed
cobblepott: I intend to run this damned city!..And where democracy might fail, you will not!
The anarchist is well aware that he’s supposed to be scared and for that very reason keeps his time completely in tact : You know Oz, your not the first man to ask me for this. Ask me to fight in the name of what I loathe. Infact not so long ago a man just like you did. Would you like to know what I said to him
Oswald cobblepott: Yes?
The Anarchist: Nothing. I put some glass through his forehead and sold his body parts to some very nasty people for 10 cents a piece. Should have demanded more really but I’d rather he died as he was born. worthless scum. You have a chance to leave the car now oz. I suggest you take it
Oswald: Well...so be it. But know this. I do not give up easily...Lonnie
They come to a motorway, Oswald stops Lonnie, gets out of the side of the Cadillac and limps a few metres to a large rolls Royce that had been on the cars tail for some time now.
Oswald: You’ll join me soon enough Machin! Wether it be through will or force. You’ll stand with me. And I will own this goddamn pit that is Gotham!
Driver! I don’t have all day. Put your foot down
The anarchist, Lonnie Machin just smirks to himself and drives into the woods, going in the completely opposite direction to the furious Oswald Cobblepott
Batman: Gotham underground 3/3: disturbance
A Gotham gazette newspaper stand.
An aged paper vender of about 70 sits slouched in his paper stand reading through the days paper fo the 3 time today. Not to far down the street a speeding red Cadillac pulls to the pavement up resting its tyres on the age old slabs of stone. Out the front of the car steps the hooded driver. His crimson red hoody and masked pale face draw attention from passerby. In one hand he carries a furnace lighter marked with an A and in the other, a litre of pure black oil. With no amount of precision, he creates a wonky line of oil stretching from just outside the door of the car and down to gothams subway. He continues the line of priceless black gold as he jumps down to the subway tracks disappearing into the dark abyss of the tunnel. Strange actions such as these are not unfamiliar to most Gothamites. His now fleeing audience know exactly what’s coming and in seconds the station becomes completely scarce. Or at least it does for a moment. The haunting glow of a trains headlamps make the oil shimmer in the otherwise dark tunnel. The hooded anarchist drops the flaming lighter and is gone from the tracks within seconds, speaking through the cracks in his mask
The anarchist: And now come the fireworks
He hops over the barrier, running with great pace up to ground level, leaping into the cars front seat and driving recklessly in the opposite direction as the fatal display of fireworks erupt behind him. In the back of the Cadillac sits a well dressed man of around 4 foot. To the anarchists suprise he makes his presence noticed: Oswald cobblepott. Pleased to meet you
The anarchist: How strange?
Oswald cobblepott: You might have heard my families name. Most have
His croaky voice bothers the anarchist leaving him no option but to question the man as to why he sits in the back of the car as if it is a perfectly normal thing to do. Before the anarchist can question the man he finds himself answering questions of his own
Oswald cobblepott: Why? Why a subway? Why not city hall? Or the GCPD?
The anarchist responds in an unnerving and somewhat monotonous voice: If the crime had a reason, it would be some form of democracy. Hence the opposite of what I stand for
Oswald cobblepott: And what do you stand for exactly?
The anarchist: What a predictable question to ask
Oswald cobblepott: A significant one nonetheless.
The anarchist: Perhaps..but at this moment in time I’d much rather know why exactly it is that your sat in the back of my automobile when I have business that needs to be seen to
Oswald cobblepott: I require your...expertise.
The anarchist: Then its not your lucky day is it
Cobblepotts tone changes completely and Lonnie sees the real Oswald. Angry and disturbed
cobblepott: I intend to run this damned city!..And where democracy might fail, you will not!
The anarchist is well aware that he’s supposed to be scared and for that very reason keeps his time completely in tact : You know Oz, your not the first man to ask me for this. Ask me to fight in the name of what I loathe. Infact not so long ago a man just like you did. Would you like to know what I said to him
Oswald cobblepott: Yes?
The Anarchist: Nothing. I put some glass through his forehead and sold his body parts to some very nasty people for 10 cents a piece. Should have demanded more really but I’d rather he died as he was born. worthless scum. You have a chance to leave the car now oz. I suggest you take it
Oswald: Well...so be it. But know this. I do not give up easily...Lonnie
They come to a motorway, Oswald stops Lonnie, gets out of the side of the Cadillac and limps a few metres to a large rolls Royce that had been on the cars tail for some time now.
Oswald: You’ll join me soon enough Machin! Wether it be through will or force. You’ll stand with me. And I will own this goddamn pit that is Gotham!
Driver! I don’t have all day. Put your foot down
The anarchist, Lonnie Machin just smirks to himself and drives into the woods, going in the completely opposite direction to the furious Oswald Cobblepott