DC TVU Mafia

[SVNBob]

My turn to do the list?  Ok.  Looking at the story we've only got 12 named characters that appear, 3 unnamed characters (one of whom has to be who I think it is, based on what little I know of the DCU/DCTVU, and another the obvious cameo), and one named person not yet appearing.

So far we have:

• Ollie
• John
• Laurel
• Felicity
• Barry
• Caitlin
• Merlyn
• Oswald Cobblepot
• unnamed "associate" of Cobblepot
• John Constantine (as yet unnamed, but it has to be him)
• Falcone (not appearing yet)
• Alfred
• Bruce
• Jim Gordon
• Barbara
• and Adam West in an uncredited role

 

Even including the two most questionable possibilities (Mr. West and the unnamed thug), that's only 16 people thus far.  And there are 18 players.  That must mean that at least 2 of our characters have yet to appear or be mentioned by name.  But it's probably more like 4 or 5.  That sound right?

 

As for a clue...nothing really stood out to me too much.  It could be that word...but is it?  It does seem to fit the character in question.  And if I follow Biz's possible train of thought...yeah.... Do we really want to go there right away?  That would be a bit cruel.  Even for us.

 

I guess I'll start the tentative non-action voting.  Unless there are any objections?  I'm willing to vote in a different direction if someone else comes up with something.

 

1 No Lynch (SVNBob) 9 to get Alan Smithee to direct instead.

Edited November 17, 2014 by SVNBob

[formerlyfreedom]

All very interesting clues. I did notice one other; "under the perpetually overcast sky," which can be an indication of an imminent Silverstormm....

 

But I am in agreement with SVNBob, it's too early to be too cruel...

 

2 No Lynch (stacey, SVNBob) 8 to raise Roger Corman from the dead.

[Meredith Quill]

Remember, Gotham has a perpetually overcast sky, that is a description as per the movies and no doubt the show; it isn't a sunny place, and may I also point out that storms are NOT perpetual - thank you. This early on I don't want to jump to conclusions and fall for red herrings either but this stood out to me most;

 

• a greeting sign that had largely worn away, only to be rewritten by a helpful graffiti artist

 

Why include this detail, yet not state what the original (I assume 'Welcome') sign said or what exactly it has been 'REWRITTEN' to read?

 

TBF, I have a few other ? similar to what those above have said (except stacey) but the graffiti line seems most shady to my inexperienced eyes.

[caprice]

Yay, we started! Perhaps I should take my roommate's advice and start watching Arrow - I don't know too much about the characters from anything except Gotham.

 

Words/phrases that jumped out at me:

• Turboprop. Google says it's a type of plane, it just seemed like a very specific word. And the mention of the weird zoning right afterward.
• Ollie. Do a lot of people call him this on the show? Just seemed funny that the narrator called him that.
• Parlor car. Again, Google tells me it's a type of train, just seems very specific. Do our mods work for the Department of Transportation? Ha!
• Chum, which isn't too odd except that it's followed immediately by a mention of fishing. Which made me think of sharks.

What do you guys think? 

I think you should get your roommate's ideas on potential Arrow clues.

For the rest, I'm not bothered by the switch to a turboprop. For all the flying I do, I've had to do it, and it makes sense for the story. I don't think it means anything.

A parlor car is a single car on a train and given the character, it could make sense.

Since the uncredited Adam West is the one who says "chum," I'm not reading anything in it, except characterization. Yes, like Mark, I grew up watching the show.

Was it the word 'squirrelly' making you think of both crazy and trees? 'Cause I gotta admit, my brain went there.

Oh, I see what you're thinking. No, I saw it as identifying the character before Mark gave him a name.

We still have 24+ hours to discuss the story and potential clues. I'd rather not vote on a non-action just yet.

[Guest]

Except, large portions of the moldings and wall fixtures had crumbled or been stolen over the years, and the only parts that remained that weren't covered in graffiti were instead layered in black mold that spray paint wouldn't adhere to. 

 

This part:  layered in black mold stood out to me.  So I googled "black mold subway station" and the 1st hit included a mention of "The Jay Street-Borough Hall subway station in Brooklyn".  That seems to point to Jay-Kay or possibly anyone affiliated with Brooklyn.

 

[TJtrack99]

Heh, Biz, I didn't mention the artsy stuff because it is my worst subject. Except for a few scattered memories about French Impressionism from high school and undergrad, I know zilch about anything artistic. And regarding Barbara, she does run an art gallery on Gotham, so I figured that was just explaining why her character would be involved. (And I just watched through the entire series of The West Wing over the summer, so naturally I picked up on your reference. "What would Leo do?" :) )

 

"Squirrelly" does describe Mr. Cobblepot pretty well. Not sure on it being a clue though.

 

I'm with caprice on waiting to vote no-lynch. We have a time limit on Day, there's no reason to cut off our time discussing potential clues. The JayKay one is interesting, even if the article you highlighted is a bit old, CP.

[writingdreamer]

I too noticed the graffiti, what I found interesting is that it was mentioned at least twice.  Now, Gotham probably has its share of people spraying graffiti on the buildings and such, but maybe it's a clue too?  I'll probably have to Google a lot of information about these shows, I've only seen bits of Arrow and other than the Batman movies I don't follow comics nor have I seen the latest show, Gotham.

[JayKay]

Aw, why couldn't something that brought me up be something cool like the word "turboprop?" Mold? Gross. I hope it doesn't get me killed though, because I'd like to help you fine citizens for as long as possible.

But even if it puts an ear or two of mine in the crosshairs, I do still think that the clue could be hidden in some of the fancy architecture stuff.

And nice list, SVNBob.

[photo fox]

I noticed the graffiti stuff, too, which could be a reference to @writingdreamer? And also a couple of references to "Star" (STAR labs and Star Island). As I mentioned above, I'm not really familiar with these shows, so I don't know if it means anything, but could it be a clue to @HalcyonDays's star-like avatar?

I'm not ready to go for a David Lynch, though.
3 No Lynch (stacey, SVNBob, photo fox) 7 to bring the night upon us

[Athena]

Yeah, not enough for me to decide on anything either.

 

4 No Lynch (stacey, SVNBob, photo fox, Athena) 6 to bring the night upon us

[The Crazed Spruce]

I haven't spotted any clues either, but I'm still more inclined to wait out the time limit. Then again, that line of thought hasn't exactly helped me in the past....

(I am a hero, just for the record.)

[writingdreamer]

So tomorrow I have to go get my tires rotated in the morning, then I should be around for a while before I head into work.  I'm just curious to see how this round goes and I too would rather just wait out the time.

[BizBuzz]

So many people willing to wait on the time limit, shoot, where I come from time moves fast.  By 2:22 today (Tuesday), it would be 48 hours since Mark posted the story.

 

Hmmmm, is that a clue, the waiting?

 

I don't know how time works in Mark's world, but on the chance 48 hours means 48 hours, and I wont be around most of the day:

 

5 No Lynch (stacey, SVNBob, photo fox, Athena, BizBuzz) 5 to bring on the night so I can have a Mai Tai

[Meredith Quill]

I concur with those who think there isn't enough evidence as yet.

 

6 No Lynch (stacey, SVNBob, photo fox, Athena, BizBuzz, SilverStormm) 4 to bring on Afternoon Tea on the terrace darling.

[MarkHB]

(GAME) MOD NOTE:

There are no clues in this post.

A bit of clarification seems in order since we have a lot of new players.  Day 1 will end at the appointed time, although I probably won't post any formal "Day is over" note immediately as I've realized that the deadline falls during my work day.  There is no functional difference between voting "No Lynch" and letting the clock run out, other than that the former could accelerate the end of Day, and hence the end of discussion, if you reach 10 votes before the deadline.  Conversely I will not hold Day open longer because a "No Lynch" vote is in progress, as there's no point... it's just the same conclusion, drawn out.  I hope this helps your understanding.

 

Now, if you'll excuse me, he's out there right now, and I've gotta go to work.

Edited November 18, 2014 by MarkHB

[caprice]

So many people willing to wait on the time limit, shoot, where I come from time moves fast.  By 2:22 today (Tuesday), it would be 48 hours since Mark posted the story.

For my part, the motivation is less about letting time pass (especially since Mark has posted to say that he will be holding to the actual 48 hours) and more about keeping a conversation going. No, we probably aren't going to find much in only one story, certainly not enough to feel confident in voting anyone out, but conversation is important in this game.

That said, I will certainly be looking forward to a Mai Tai with BizBuzz at 2:30 this afternoon.

[HalcyonDays]

As a newbie, still learning the game but I agree - not enough evidence.

 

7 No Lynch (stacey, SVNBob, photo fox, Athena, BizBuzz, SilverStormm, HalcyonDays) 3 to bring on the darkest of night.

[MarkHB]

DAY IS OVER

 

OK, I'm calling that Day has ended and all game discussion in the thread is to cease.  I don't officially expect anyone to have their night actions in before I get the story up later tonight, but in the meantime feel free to start drinking!  First round's on !  ;)

[BizBuzz]

Bellying up to the bar to order a Mai Tai, I have been waiting all day!

[caprice]

Ooh, a row of Mai Tais for me and my friend, please!

[formerlyfreedom]

WOO WOO WOO WOO WOO! Booze me up, boys, I has been ill and tee totalling lately!

[MarkHB]

That's no way to live!

[HalcyonDays]

Sidles up to beautiful mahogany bar: "Pint of Strongbow and a chaser of rum."  /Settles in, eyes narrowed, surveying the room....

[caprice]

Is that Strongbow over ice, or not?

Anyone want to have some of the spiciest chili you'll ever have? Well, except for Mark. Ttm is making chili and misread teaspoons for tablespoons in his recipe. Two tablespoons of cumin....

[HalcyonDays]

Is that Strongbow over ice, or not?

Anyone want to have some of the spiciest chili you'll ever have? Well, except for Mark. Ttm is making chili and misread teaspoons for tablespoons in his recipe. Two tablespoons of cumin....

 

If its Strongbow from tap: no ice. Strongbow from a can or bottle: with ice.  Luckily we have both options here. *grin*

[caprice]

If its Strongbow from tap: no ice. Strongbow from a can or bottle: with ice.  Luckily we have both options here. *grin*

Even after a week driving all over the north end of Ireland, I fail to understand cider over ice. Therefore, it's really good we have a great bar here.

[JayKay]

Watermelon schnapps over ice, please. I miss summer already.

[MarkHB]

Night 1:

Officer Opie sat in the Robinson St. Diner, happily working on the last of his dinner and enjoying an unexpected night off.  He'd been set to work a security detail at the big tech shindig, but some moke had tipped him 5 bills for his uniform.  He didn't even want the badge and gun!  Opie figured he'd be safe; the moke had said he was working for Falcone, and no one would dare drop the Don's name in vain in Gotham.  Opie even had a pal signing the timesheet for him, so he'd get the OT plus the tip, and that called for a celebration.  "Hey, Buddy, can I get a refill and a slice of that Margarita pie," he called to the counter man.

 

...

 

Barbara was bored to tears at the reception.  Jim, of course, had cut her loose almost as soon as they got there so he could work, and although she had passed her cards around, she hadn't found many potential art buyers who weren't more interested in using her gallery to launder money, and she hadn't gotten so much as a look from any of the out-of-towners.  So, she had turned wallflower, hovering at the edges of the party, when a young woman she hadn't met wandered over.

"Some party," the new girl said, sounding more drained than elated. "For some people, I guess," replied Barbara in a kindred tone.  "You with someone who has more pressing business to attend to, too?"

 

"Pretty much," she said as she extended her free hand. "Laurel Lance, Assistant District Attorney from Starling City."  "Barbara Kean, and isn't that an awfully long way to come for some really crappy wine?"  Laurel started to explain that she had come with her friend Oliver, when Barbara cut her off with a suggestion.  "Tell you what, why don't you come back to my place; I've got some far better bottles we could get into.  I'm safe, I promise... my boyfriend's a cop!"  Laurel looked wistfully at Oliver, standing in a circle of apparent acquaintences across the room, and at the plastic tumbler of ginger ale in her hand. The cheap booze at the reception had been easy to turn down, but the thought of some real primo vino was harder to resist.  "You're sure you won't try anything," Laurel asked.  "No, I promise... I'm no cheater."  Laurel looked at the slightly-built gallery owner, figured she could take her down if necessary, and made a decision.  "Hey, how's that tourist slogan go?  'Gotham, When You're Up For Anything!'  Sounds like a plan!  Hey, can we bring that guy?"  She motioned towards a tall, handsome blonde man with clear blue eyes who was disappearing into the crowd. "Ah, on second thought, never mind him... his loss!"

 

Laurel tossed one last glance back at Oliver, and dumped her soft drink into a fake plant as they sassily walked out the door.

 

...

 

Crispus Allen had had Oliver Queen as his primary focus since the party started.  Queen was one of the richest men in the country, and so the captain had decided he warranted unique attention, so she put the Major Crimes Unit on him.  Fortunately, not only had Queen brought his own security man along, but he hadn't done much since arriving but sip on a drink and talk to the same, small group of people.  Allen's partner Renee Montoya, on the other hand, had been put in charge of overall security at the event, which meant she actually had had to work all night.

 

...

 

In the backroom at a nondescript import-export business, Malcolm Merlyn was making his pitch to Don Carmine Falcone.  "You heard what happened in The Glades back in Starling City, right?  How all those slums were cleaned out by an earthquake?  Well, what if we could put your Narrows on the same path to redevelopment?  Huge profits for the folks in on the ground floor, a nasty piece of chaos gets out of the way... win-win for everyone!"  The Don's eyes narrowed.  "You say you can cause an earthquake, Merlyn?  I don't know about your Narrows idea, but the concept has merit.  We can talk, but how do you plan to keep your presence in Gotham out of the papers?  You're an attention magnet, and that's one thing I don't try to attract."

 

Merlyn was taken aback that the canny mobster didn't see how wonderful his plan for the Narrows was, but as the saying went, he never let them see him sweat.  "That's all taken care of.  I have a little dog-and-pony show all arranged for the tech conference reception, and it should keep the nattering nabobs occupied for at least a week."

 

...

 

Back at the reception, Jim Gordon had been assigned to keep an eye on Bruce Wayne, and much like Queen and his bodyguard, Jim could see that Alfred had things well in hand, which meant that he could tend to other things.  His partner, Harvey Bullock, had made it his personal job to ensure that the shortest path between the open bar and the buffet table would remain free of any shenanigans, and Gordon could see that Harvey was patrolling that beat with more determination than he had ever seen him employ, and that the beer and hors d'oeuvres in Harvey's hands were, indeed, very secure.  Gordon rolled his eyes and went back to observing Bruce, barely giving a thought to Barbara.

 

...

 

Up in the clocktower, Barbara and Laurel were barefoot, lingering over the end of a bottle of grand cru Bordeaux and the last dregs of a roach, and Laurel wasn't ready for the evening to end.  "The wine was awesome, but do you have anything more than weed?  I could really stand some blow or Oxy right about now!"  Barbara was pretty mellow at this point and just said, "No, I can't have those in here... my boyfriend's a cop!"  This caused her to bust out laughing for some reason, but Laurel didn't join in, at least not for for long. "No, really, let me go get something!  I mean, what the hell, what's the point of being in Gotham City if you can't avail yourself of the local street vendors??"  This caused Barbara to start laughing again, which Laurel took as affirmation.  "I'll be right back!" she told her new friend, and as she rode down in the elevator she thought to herself, "What could be simpler than buying drugs in Gotham?"

 

Once she got down to the dark streets, it took her a few turns in the alleys to find a heavyset man just standing in a doorway.  "You know where a girl could find something to keep her high going?" she asked.  "You mean besides my pants," the man replied.  "Go on, get outta here."  Despite the booze and pot smell, something about the girl said "cop" to him, and  since any cop who knew the system knew his dues were paid, that meant that there was some bright-eyed kid who hadn't been shown the ropes trying to "do his job," and the dealer didn't feel like spending an evening filling out paperwork.  Laurel, though, wasn't to be deterred. "Come on, help a lady out.  I'm a DA, you know, and maybe I could return the favor sometime."  In her cannabis haze, the offer made sense, and in fact it changed the dealer's attitude immediately.  "You're a DA?  Hell, why didn't you say you worked for Falcone?  Here, I got some China white and a few pills, on the house!"  Laurel's face brightened as she took the drugs from the dealer and managed a "thank you!"  It darkened again as she turned away and lost consciousness, courtesy of the blackjack the man had brought down on the back of her head.  "Yeah, we'll see if you're a DA, lady."  He used his cellphone to page a driver to pick up this unexpected package, and added the coke and pills back to his inventory.

 

Watching this go down from the darkened end of the alley, John Constantine shook his head and lit up a cigarette.  "There are some demons even I can't help with," he thought to himself as he left the scene.

 

...

 

Oliver Queen had attained a kind of comfort zone.  He hadn't come to Gotham for small talk and canapes, he had come for the tech conference, and he had

managed to dodge the former by surrounding himself with people who were already his friends.  Felicity had attained her own comfort level as well, it seemed, as she had swung from his orbit to Barry's as soon as they had met up.  Oliver approved; the two looked good together, and Barry's friend Caitlin could keep up a very interesting conversation of her own.  The four of them plus John had enjoyed their own circle most of the night, so he was very surprised when a stranger's voice asked him, "Excuse me, Mr. Queen, but what do you think causes two cities to evolve in such divergent directions as Starling City and Gotham?"

 

Oliver looked around, and it took him a moment to see that the voice was coming from a child, a boy of 12 or 13.  A kid?  In here?  he thought to himself.  "Well, young man, I'm sure there are a lot of reasons.  Why would you ask such a question?"

 

"Well, I've been wondering if a single event could be a tipping point, and if there is a tipping point, what it would take to reverse the decline.  You see..." he was interrupted by an older Englishman. "Master Bruce, please, you don't even know those people!" the adult exclaimed.  "What did I tell you about tonight?"  "But Alfred, we were just..." It was Oliver's turn to interrupt.  "He's quite right, young man; we don't know each other.  I'm Oliver Queen, and these are my friends John, Felicity, Barry and Caitlin." He extended his hand to the youngster, who met his gaze and returned a surprisingly strong grip.  "Thank you, I'm very sorry for forgetting my manners.  My name's Bruce Wayne."  At that, it was everyone's turn to be surprised, and they all got to shake the young scion's hand.  They were just finishing a round of banal greetings and hollow sympathy for the loss of Bruce's parents when a clamor arose at the end of the room.

 

A man in a GCPD uniform with a cheap plastic badge had thrown on a blue parka and ski glasses.  "Hello everyone, they call me Captain Cold, and right now I'm after a cool payday!  So, no one do anything stupid and no one gets hurt!  At least, besides this guy!"  Captain Cold turned his freeze gun on a nearby uniformed cop who was checking his watch and waiting for the event to end, and suddenly he was a frozen statue.  "Now, everyone load your valuables into the duffel bags my men are bringing around!"

 

Up on the mezzanine, an older couple had withdrawn from the festivities earlier, and were enjoying each other's company at a small table.  "Do you think we should help," the lady wondered, but the man, with slicked-back hair and a strong jaw, said "No, I hear something's coming... let's let the new generation handle it."  "Good answer," his companion replied with a sly smile. "I've had enough glasses of wine that my head's already twirling... I'm not sure I could handle the real thing.  Feel like flying home?"  "I've felt like it for an hour," the man said.  "I think there's a broom closet with a window up this way."  The two of them, both very fit-looking considering their age, headed for the closet.

 

Jim Gordon looked around for help and saw none.  Bullock should have spotted that this guy wasn't a real cop, but he was too busy making sure that no one kidnapped any bacon-wrapped scallops.  He was about to draw a bead on the leader when the impossible happened: what seemed like a man ran past him, too quickly to really be discerned. Cold was startled; "Flash, here in Gotham City?  That's an unwelcome surprise.  Men!  Let's go!" he exclaimed as he laid down a thick layer of ice to shield his escape.  Barry Allen, better known to some as The Flash, didn't have immediate access to the uniform Cisco had made him, and so he was taking Cold on in his street clothes.  Unfortunately, he hadn't reckoned on the slick soles of his dress loafers, and found himself skidding out of control on the ice, which gave Captain Cold and his men enough time to drop their loot bags and escape.  Gordon, Allen, Montoya and Bullock were left to tend to the victims, and Oliver and John hugged the ladies in their group.

 

Bruce had watched the entire thing, and for the first time since his parents had died he was stunned, in fact so stunned he hadn't noticed that Barry had left their circle.  "Did you see that, Alfred?  What was it?  How can someone become that???"

 

Alfred looked at his young charge with sadness.  "I think they call him The Flash, Master Bruce, and I don't know how he got that way but I'm sure it wasn't safe.  But that's just one man, though.  You can't turn yourself into a superhero by sheer force of will."

 

...

 

Back at the import-export company, Leonard Snart, better known as Captain Cold, came in to report.  "Mister Merlyn, we put on a show like you asked, but the Flash showed up and we weren't able to get away with the loot."  Falcone's eyes narrowed again as Merlyn dismissed the bad news. "Don't worry about the loot, Snart.  What we needed was the commotion, and according to the news, you delivered."  Falcone, though, was less sanguine. "You brought the Flash here with you?  I told you that the last thing we needed was publicity, but I was wrong.  The real last thing we need is some freak with a chip on his shoulder!"  Just then, a goon appeared on a security monitor, standing outside the back door with a girl thrown over his shoulder.  "Oh my God, that's Laurel Lance!  She can't see me here!" exclaimed Merlyn.  "Go and hide in the bathroom, then," replied Falcone.  "But tell me about her first."  Merlyn told Falcone about Laurel's history, her fight training, and all about her ADA's position in Starling City.  "An ADA in Starling City who already knows about crossing the line?" mused Falcone as he buzzed the courier in.  "She could prove to be a really useful asset."

 

With Laurel, bound, just regaining consciousness on the floor, another goon came in.  "Sir, I think we have a problem," the latest moke asked.  "What do I always say, Louie, don't bring me problems, bring me solutions!"  "I'm not sure there is a solution for this one, Don.  Victor's gone rogue."

Don Carmine Falcone had lived by the adage "Never let them see you sweat" long enough that his underarm glands barely functioned, but if there was ever a time to drop the pretense, this was it.  If Victor Zsasz had given up on the order and predictibility of working for him, if he had indeed gone rogue, then no one was safe.

...

 

The Living:

• writingdreamer
• TJtrack99
• jessied112
• stacey
• Athena
• JayKay
• egavasc
• Tabbyclaw
• SilverStormm
• photo fox
• CuriousParker
• BizBuzz
• HalcyonDays
• Dougal
• The Crazed Spruce
• SVNBob
• caprice
• Tmunz

 

There was one clue in this story.  Night officially begins now.  You have 24 hours to get your night actions in, but don't expect the next story until late Thursday at the earliest.

[MarkHB]

Hey, I just want to say that everyone got their night actions in on time, so thanks!  I'm hoping for the story to go up tomorrow night as planned.  You may continue drinking.

[Tabbyclaw]

As if we needed permission. Barkeep! Your finest hot chocolate, and don't skimp on the whipped cream!

[egavasc]

I'll have what @Tabbyclaw's having. Sounds perfect.

[Meredith Quill]

I'll take one of those too please! Yum!

[caprice]

Ooh, hot chocolate is always good. Tabbyclaw can have the whipped cream that would go on mine, though.

 

Has anyone seen the peppermint schnapps?

[The Crazed Spruce]

I'll have a hot chocolate, too. With a handful of miniature marshmallows. :)

[Lisin]

Can I have some Jack Daniel's Honey with hot apple cider please? Add in a cinnamon stick if you've got one! 

[Athena]

Can I have some Jack Daniel's Honey with hot apple cider please? Add in a cinnamon stick if you've got one! 

 

I just had that recently for the first time. Great idea, Lisin! I'll take one of those too.

[BizBuzz]

Can I have some Jack Daniel's Honey with hot apple cider please? Add in a cinnamon stick if you've got one! 

 

Hole up, that sounds better than a Mai Tai, BARKEEP!  I want one of those please!

[HalcyonDays]

Cuba Libre please. With an extra twist!

[caprice]

Can I have some Jack Daniel's Honey with hot apple cider please? Add in a cinnamon stick if you've got one! 

Okay, adding those to my shopping list!

[MarkHB]

Day 2:

The crowd at the tech conference reception was ready to panic. The incident with Captain Cold had thrown the whole evening off, and it took the combined efforts of all the GCPD officers in attendance to keep things calm and under control. Barry hadn't come back -- he had actually decided to run to Central City to get his costume -- and Oliver was frustrated because he had been too busy playing millionaire to be able to do his real job as the Arrow. To top it off, when Caitlin took out her iPhone to contact Dr. Wells and Cisco, she discovered something shocking.

"No data signal? How can I have voice but no data?" With Bruce Wayne and his butler safely on their way home, Jim Gordon came over to check on the Queen party, and he confirmed it for them. "Yeah, you won't get any data here."

"What if we go outside?" asked Felicity, who considered this to be worse news than the Snart attack had been.

"Nope... there's no mobile data in Gotham City. The Falcones stole the fiber."

"They what? How could the..." "Now, Jim, are you filling our guests' heads with lies?" Diggle was interrupted by a scruffy-looking man in an ill-fitting suit. "Hi everyone, I'm Jim's partner, Det. Harvey Bullock, and I can assure you the Falcone family did not steal our city's fiber optic cables."

"OK, then I can..."

"It was the Maroni's who stole them."

Everyone was wondering the same thing. "What on earth would the Mob do with all that fiber?" "They cut it into 3-foot lengths and sold it back to the city. You should come here in December, we have some amazing Christmas displays!" Bullock finished the story. It really bugged Jim when Bullock acted all galant like this, because he knew the real Harvey and knew it was all a mirage. He was about to move on to another group when he heard a slightly squeaky voice calling out to him. "Hey, Gordon!" He turned to see Victor Zsasz on a balcony above him, and somewhere in the middle of Zsasz following up by yelling "No second chances," he saw the bullet from the silenced revolver as it approached his cornea, and then it made contact, and Jim fell to the ground and we don't know what he saw after that. The policemen were momentarily stunned, which gave Zsasz enough time to approach his escape route. The few honest cops remaining started to pursue him, but his molls appeared from behind some pillars and offered sufficent cover with their Tommy guns to allow the entire party to get out, leaving the body of man who might have been the last, best cop in Gotham lying in a spreading puddle of blood and brains.

Safely outside, unseen by the crowds who had completely given up on anything remotely resembling "calm and under control," Victor Zsasz took a large Bowie knife from his belt and added another tally mark to the collection of scars on his arm. "Thirty-one," he proudly announced to no one who didn't already know what the number would be.

...

Laurel was finally waking up, and saw a well-dressed older gentleman, a skinny guy with beady eyes and really bad hair, a few other goons, and Captain Cold standing over her. She managed to judo-flip herself free from the thugs that were holding her, and while it felt good it left her facing the business end of more guns than Custer had seen at Little Bighorn. "Hey, a girl's gotta represent!" she said in an awkward attempt to loosen the tension. The older man didn't smile.

"Miss Lance, assistant district attorney from Central City. Please allow me to apologize for the roughness of your welcome to our fair city."

"Who are.... How did you know who I am?"

"I assure you, I try to keep myself well-informed on the comings and goings here. My name isn't important for now; you'll find out when the time is ripe. But let me ask you something: do you truly enjoy spending your days listening to spoiled men whine their way out of speeding tickets?" It was a question Laurel hadn't expected, in fact there had already been far more conversation than she had expected. "Well... it's not just that! I make a difference!"

The Don continued. "Do you? Do you really? Or is it just the same thing, day after day, the faces and ties change but the stories never do, until the day you realize that all you are is a cog in a machine of endless banality, never any difference, never any difference at all?

"I could help you change that. I have friends in Central City, and we could help put you in position to make that difference, to avenge your sister's death, to be the change you've been dreaming of. Tell me, have you ever thought of being the top woman? Of becoming the actual District Attorney?" This was happening so fast that even with her head having cleared, Laurel could barely process it. "You... you know about my sister? Do you know who killed her? DO YOU KNOW WHO KILLED HER YOU BASTARD??????"" Laurel lunged and was quickly restrained by more guards than had held her initially. The Don continued, "Miss Lance, I appreciate your love for your family. I know that love myself, and that's why you aren't dead at this moment. And I will tell you three things right now: I will never lie to you, I had nothing at all to do with Sara's death, and I don't know who did. Now, do you think you might be willing to work with us, and perhaps eventually become someone with the power to make change happen? Or, given your history, and the way you got your job, do you think you might be able to get there without us?"

Just then the phone rang, the man with the bad hair answered it, and he suddenly turned very pale. He hung up and whispered something to the older man. This at least gave Laurel a chance to catch her breath and refocus her thoughts. "What if I say no?" she asked, fully anticipating that it might mean the end for her. "Well, as you might have guessed, you won't make it out of here alive. And I understand your father's in the hospital, very ill; no one would think twice about it if he were to pass on. Please, let's not have another display of your 'representing'; he's perfectly safe now -- in fact I know some highly qualified doctors I might be able to prevail upon to look at his case... if he were the father of a friend."

Laurel knew when she was beaten, and only one option even offered survival, not to mention a dash of hope for her father. "So, I guess I'm in. What happens now?"

"Well, Miss Lance, or may I call you Laurel? Laurel, I was just informed that someone has died at the hands of someone who is now out of my control. My men will have to go after him, but this death means there is one loose end I can't leave out there." He handed her a photo of someone she already knew. "I need you to kill this woman, Barbara Kean. My friend Oswald will drive you."

...

By the time Laurel arrived back at the clock tower, it was 3 Am. The same doorman was still there from when she had left, and he buzzed her in. She found the door to Barbara's apartment the way she had left it, unlocked. What she hadn't expected to see was Barbara sitting there, wearing one of Jim's shirts, her mascara streaming down her face, with a few more liquor bottles on the coffee table than there had been when she left. She was alternately furious with Barbara for having been gone so long, and desperately relieved to have someone to just be with her. "Oh my God, Laurel..... Jim's dead! They killed him!" Laurel hadn't realized who had died, so the stunned look on her face was real. She crossed the room and embraced the other woman, held her for a long time, and then they sat down on the couch with Laurel on Barbara's left. Laurel, her heart pounding out of her chest, tried to comfort her. "Barbara, I'm so sorry, he must have been a very good man. I'm sure you'll see him again some day." Barbara leaned in closer to Laurel, seeking her warmth, her humanity, and Laurel reached her right arm around to hug her. Her trembling right arm, which held a large knife which was ironically very similar to Zsasz's, which she managed to use to slit Barbara's throat.

The deed done, Laurel knew she had to finish things quickly. She stabbed Barbara in the chest a few times and stole her underwear to make it look like a sex crime. Fortunately, the panties had enough material to enable Laurel to use them to avoid leaving blood or fingerprints on the door to the patio. She went outside, stuffed the underwear in her pocket to get rid of later, and jumped the few stories to the roof of the adjoining building.

....
 

Laurel had escaped to the rooftop, where she crouched next to a gargoyle, catching her breath.  She hadn't been sure how it would feel, killing someone.  She had anticipated terror, revulsion, self-loathing, everything she had always been taught about murderers was rushing through her head, and now that it had happened, now that she had a moment to think about it, she realized something: it was a rush.  It was bigger, faster, more powerful than she had ever gotten off a Ketel One and Oxy.  Just like she had initially found with the pills, it was something so wonderful that you wanted to share it with the world, but you couldn't: the world demanded that you think of it as your secret shame.  The world's loss.

 

And in the rush of the high, the thrill of the kill, Laurel realized something more.  She wanted to wear her sister's jacket, avenge her sister's death, become a hero to honor her.  But that wasn't honor, because she wasn't her sister.  She couldn't honor her sister by copying her, she could only truly honor her by being true to herself, to the max, the way Sara had been true to her own self.  The problem had been that Laurel had never known who she really was at heart; all the "taking care" of her family, all the time in law school, all the time in her little sister's shadow, all that had been her trying to be who her parents and society wanted her to be, and she now knew that, at least in her heart if not on the outside, it was all over.  Standing in the fog and light rain on the rooftop, her heart pounding from the rush and her hands still covered in blood, she finally, at long last, felt the peace others felt when they came home.  Dinah Laurel Lance finally, truly, knew and accepted who she was.

 

She was a villain, and damned if she wasn't going to kick ass at it.

 

The Departed:

 

• caprice: Barbara Kean, a HERO.  It is said you own an art gallery.  However, you have never been seen there, and as far as anyone can determine all you do is hang around your magnificent watchtower condo in a state of semi-undress, drinking and smoking pot.  Consequently, you have no other powers.
• CuriousParker: Det. Jim Gordon, a HERO.  You may PM me the name of one person you wish to INVESTIGATE per night.

 

The living:

• writingdreamer
• TJtrack99
• jessied112
• stacey
• Athena
• JayKay
• egavasc
• Tabbyclaw
• SilverStormm
• photo fox
• BizBuzz
• HalcyonDays
• Dougal
• The Crazed Spruce
• SVNBob
• Tmunz

 

Dead players, please check your PM's for important messages. There is one clue in this story. Discussion starts now; I will give you 72 hours to complete a David Lynch as I am going to be busy Saturday night and don't want to have to deal with writing stories when I get back. You have until this time Sunday night EST.  Good luck!

Edited November 21, 2014 by MarkHB

[formerlyfreedom]

Okay, and wow.

 

I think I may need another drink.

[BizBuzz]

Ouch.  RIP CP and Caprice. 

[halgia]

Wow...rough.

Did we intentionally not get a "there were X clues" message?

Anyway, assuming there was a clue, the only thing that really stood out to me on first reading was the explicit mention of "Ketel One and Oxy." Is that her drink of choice on the show? (I'd assume it's not referenced by name, but I dunno, don't watch.) Just free-associating here, "Ketel" makes me think "kettle" makes me think "tea", like the letter T, but I dunno.

That or "stealing the fiber" – that might be something?

[SVNBob]

Agreed.  That was brutal.

 

New list time.  Adding in the characters that appeared in both Night 1 and Day 2, taking out the least feasible, and dividing the rest up by affiliation.

Heroes:

• Ollie (Arrow)
• John
• Felicity
• Barry (Flash)
• Caitlin
• John Constantine
• Alfred
• Bruce
• Montoya
• Allen
• Bullock?

 

Villains

• Falcone
• Merlyn
• Oswald Cobblepot
• Captain Cold
• Laurel

 

Serial Killer

• Zsasz

 

Dead

 

• Jim Gordon
• Barbara

 

We've gone from two short to one over.  So someone on one of these lists isn't one of us.  I've got a couple ideas.

 

Laurel got recruited.  So we Heroes are down 3 from the start of the game.  Not a great start at all.

 

I'm not going to be around until sometime on Sunday.  But a lynch might (and honestly, should, if we heroes are to stand a chance) start before then.  Thus I want a proxy.  Because we worked so well together in the last round, and I think she understands how I think in regards to this game, I'm naming @Athena as my proxy.  I give her full authority over my vote in any lynch discussion that happens until I post again on Sunday.

[BizBuzz]

Dead players, please check your PM's for important messages. There is one clue in this story. Discussion starts now; I will give you 72 hours to complete a David Lynch as I am going to be busy Saturday night and don't want to have to deal with writing stories when I get back. You have until this time Sunday night EST.  Good luck!

 

Dougal, we have one clue in the Day 2 story.

[HalcyonDays]

Ouch. Oh man, I feel so bad for CuriousParker and caprice. I offer you a Cuba Libre with a twist - we shall avenge you!

[JayKay]

Holy night, that was like watching a horror movie. Neither Gordon nor Barbara deserved to go out like that. RIP CP and caprice.

I need to reread the story and look for clues once the chills have faded.

[caprice]

What the what?? I share my good wine AND weed, and this bitch kills me? If you can't avenge me, at least avenge my sweet Jim!

 

Oh, and whoever is telling this tale? "...stole her underwear to make it look like a sex crime. Fortunately, the panties had enough material...." Again, what the what? Those clearly weren't mine.

[TJtrack99]

No, not Jim and Barbara! :( RIP, CP and caprice.

 

Thanks for the list, Bob. Bullock would be a Hero - he's Jim's partner (and hopefully will be ready to avenge him!).

 

Things that jumped out at me:

-All of the business with the fiber optic cables. Don't know if there's a clue there - maybe the "selling it back" is a hint at reversing a name (egavasc)?

-"when the time is ripe." Isn't it usually "right"? But no one's really got a fruit-like name, the closest would be Spruce.

-"represent" gets repeated. Don't know who I'd connect that to.

-The doorman buzzes in Laurel, but that's probably too obvious to be a clue.

-"She was alternately furious with Barbara for having been gone so long" - this should read "Laurel", right? Probably just a typo.

 

I'm gonna read the Night story again as well, since all I really remember is smirking at that older couple that was gonna fly home...

[halgia]

Dougal, we have one clue in the Day 2 story.

Shows how close I was reading the story, I guess. :)