I need to know if being the bad guy is any good

[indenture]

WHO: HARVEY DENT and YOU
WHERE: Heropa, various locations (specify).
WHEN: September 22nd - 24th.
WHAT: A "crisis of faith" sounds so cliche.
WARNINGS: Complicated mental health, violence/mentions thereof, references to self-harm, other warnings TBA.


( A. ) OFFICE HOURS | 22nd - 24th

[ It's been a long road, one full of a lot of pain, patience, and hard work, but Harvey Dent can finally consider himself a lawyer again.

Well, truthfully, he's been one for some time; he passed the Bar months back, but now he has an office. Now he feels legitimate again, he can have his name on a door and an address on a business card. Best of all, a place to sleep, since he's been living outside his "assigned housing" for months. It's a far cry from District Attorney or even ADA, but everyone has to start over somewhere, even if he'll be defending for a while. That's not terrible; in fact, maybe it's fitting that he built his career on prosecuting the guilty and now is rebuilding himself in defense of innocents.

In theory. But that's the system for you; everyone is entitled their equal opportunity for representation.

His name is on the window, and he's used his limited funds and resources to take out ads here and there. Now it's time for him to wait; he has nowhere else to be, after all. He can spend his time in his office waiting for visitors or clients, taking his meals at his desk and sleeping on the couch behind it.

Of course, if anyone were to stop in on or after the evening of the 23rd, they'll find Harvey either out of his office -- he stumbles in briefly at 2 AM, leaves at 8 AM, then returns around noon on the 24th -- or sitting at his desk, unshaved and a bit disheveled with a large bandage on his left cheek that goes from beneath his eye down to his jaw line. ]

( B. ) OFF THE RECORD | 23rd, various locations

[ He hadn't really noticed at first; black-outs were something that just occurred sometimes, but Harvey had not detected a pattern since he'd gotten the surgery to his face. That was supposed to fix his problems, right? It never did, but he knew it helped. It always helped.

But this is different. He wakes up -- seems to wake up -- while he's already "awake," but Harvey doesn't remember what he's doing or know where he is, all he knows is that his reflection in a storefront window shows that there's a big, bleeding cut going down from his left eye to his jaw in a clean line, like a red tear. He can't feel it. There's traces of blood on his hands but he isn't holding anything, there's no knife or shard of glass anywhere near that he might have cut himself with. His hair is mussed in a sleepless sort of way.

He mutters of the damage, touching his cheek as he continues squinting at his reflection in the glass: ]

That's fixable. It should be-- it's nothing big. [ But what else might he have done that he doesn't remember? Was it even himself that did this? ] It's fine.

[ If anyone were to come across him that evening, they'd be most likely to find him in a diner or walking the dark blocks back to his office, where he's been staying and sleeping; by daytime, he's gotten in to see a doctor the earliest they could schedule an appointment and spends most of the morning in a waiting room, after which he leaves with a large bandage affixed to the site of damage. ]

Comments

B

[bullysandwicher]

That doesn't look fine.

[ Noi was passing by Harvey when he notices the man staring at a window - his reflection actually - and muttering something. There is a big chance her comment isn't welcomed, but she still says it nonetheless since Noi isn't known to hold back her tongue or have much tact. Since she is passing by and hears him, she just decides to comment what an asshole, noi.

The woman - tall, muscled, and doesn't really look like a woman when wearing her gym clothes - is per usual wearing her mask. In all honesty, the mask is probably a bit unnerving, but you can't complain when you have a bleeding scar on your face.

That's a lot worse, so No1 would say ]

[indenture]

[ Harvey isn't unnerved by much, least of all masks -- given how his own face used to look before all the surgery, it'd be very much pot and kettle for him to flinch at that alone. Why she's wearing it is a whole other story, but if she's a burglar or something it isn't as if Harvey has much on him of value to steal.

He has nothing to fear, really, as he looks at her in the reflection. Harvey turns his head, a tight smirk across his lips. ]

Would you believe I can't even feel it? Can't be that serious. Head wounds always bleed, even if it's just a scratch.

[ He touches two fingers to the cut, looking at them after he pulls his hand back; red, of course, the wound is still bleeding slowly. He looks at Noi. ]

What's with the mask?

[bullysandwicher]

If you can't feel it, doesn't that make it even worse. Damaged never or something. [ talking about this as if it was something seen daily. Yeah, this is how Noi roles. ] If you touch it, you are just going to make it worse.

[ the mask question is getting bored by now. Noi sighs, grabbing her mask to pull it away, allowing her white hair to fall down. ] Why is it so surprising that I wear a mask? Everyone in my world does.

[indenture]

I didn't say it was surprising. But people both here and where I'm from only wear them for specific reasons. You know, heroes, crooks, and what have you.

[ The corner of his mouth quirks more, as does one of his eyebrows, and he shakes his head slightly. ]

No, these nerves were a lost cause years ago. I barely have any feeling in the left side of my face, even after all the surgery to fix it up nice and pretty. I've gotten pretty used to it.

[bullysandwicher]

[ She crosses her arms ] We wear them because they enhance our powers. it's also a status of power, and also individualization. [ and loyalty to their gods, actually, but Noi won't mention that. Everytime she mentions her religion, people give her weird looks ]

Hmm. Then you won't even notice if something is wrong, then. [ Noi, forever tactful ] That has got to suck.

A

[enigmaestro]

[Wednesday afternoon.

He had heard that Harvey Dent resumed his bar qualifications -- a second chance that wouldn't have been repeated in Gotham proper. Perhaps because this second chance had already been multiplied enough back home.

Eddie had additional reasons to see Dent, ones that reached beyond the typical sarcastic smiling and wordplay menace. Harvey, so recently deemed lawful good within Heropa's boundaries (to include the state of Florida) probably knew the inaccessible detail of imPort loopholes that evaded Eddie in his current state. Eddie was, of course, Unsettled -- which meant, he anticipated, that the government was watching him, probably had tabs on his internet searches and library cards.

So Harvey Dent's office was just plausible enough.]

Knock, knock, Harvey.

[indenture]

[ Wednesday afternoon Harvey wasn't asleep, though he did keep odd hours. He was having some lunch, which was nothing fancy, just take-out from the box; the knocks on his door only made him pause with his chopsticks en route to his mouth. Unexpected, as he hadn't really had much time to circulate interest yet, to make his presence known.

He recognized the voice, though, and shoved his food to the corner of his desk before standing and striding toward the door, which he opened so roughly that the glass rattled within the frame. ]

Nygma. What the hell are you doing here?

[ They weren't on bad terms or anything -- not particularly, but Harvey always seemed to find himself on bad terms with people whether he meant to or not -- but he was suspicious. Wary. He didn't expect Eddie would be paying him a visit if he didn't need something. ]

[enigmaestro]

I need something.

[He spoke it with a slight wince -- while it would have been more satisfying to wind Harvey down a riddle or two, Eddie knew enough about people to know manipulative pressure points. Harvey might not be Two-Face right now (for however long that was bound to be) but he still has the same old temper somewhere deep behind that adequately moisturized face.

It was somewhat irksome, to see Dent all attractive once more. If one was into conventionally handsome individuals.]

You're up to date on local laws regarding imPort statuses?

[indenture]

Of course you do.

[ Exhaling irritably through his teeth, Harvey moved back from the door so that Eddie could come inside; a client was a client, after all, even if he wasn't convinced Eddie was here for actual business.

But they had a varied history, the two of them. Suspicions aside, Harvey didn't really know what to expect from Nygma. ]

I'd have to be; you know I'm still Unsettled, don't you? [ He raised a wary eyebrow in Eddie's direction as he retook his desk chair and gestured vaguely to the one meant for visitors, one with worn leather covers that looked at least more comfortable than his own. ] What's it to you?

B ~

[hydraated]

[Ward really expected to be fired after everything that had happened with Dixie. He was even prepared for it - but the dog had apparently been safely returned and while he'd apologized, he'd lost a friend. Two friends as far as he was concerned.

But his boss was forgiving (somehow?) and he's got an old and gentle golden retriever with this time. Just a simple walk around the neighborhood, no sign of Pinkman or any of their ...friends.

It gives him time to think about his own problems, plan an exquisite sort of revenge where he'd win back the girl and save the day and his enemies would be left in bits and pieces... Until the guy that's bleeding.]

Do you want me to call somebody?

[indenture]

Huh?

[ Harvey's caught up in his own thoughts still, the fractured sight of his own reflection, that he doesn't grasp what Ward says to him at first -- or even that he's being spoken to, that there's another person near him.

Then he blinks and turns his head, putting a hand up quickly. ]

I'll be all right. It's just a scratch. A bit deep, but it's not... it's not as serious as it looks. [ He smiles weakly. ] Sorry if I freaked you out.

[hydraated]

[That dissociated look. Ward nods mutely.] You didn't.


[Contrary to what other people might think- He thinks. But instead he says.] ...Blood is concerning in any capacity right Shelia?

[Shelia offers a friendly wag and Ward frowns.] ...nobody hurt you did they?

[indenture]

That's a relief. Last thing I'd want right now is anyone trying to call the cops on me.

[ He smirks a little more strongly to indicate he's kidding -- somewhat -- and then slowly shakes his head, though shrugs at the same time while he thinks up a quick lie. ]

I don't think so. Sometimes I... well, I think I must have gotten myself earlier on accident. You know it is when you're lost in thought, don't always notice how deep your own nails are digging. Paperwork had me distracted.

b!

[reptiledysfunction]

[ Harvey's not the only one at the doctor's office early in the morning. Connors is there also, with a bit of a cold. The cold had been lingering for a few days now and he was getting sick and tired of it. Really, it was something he could self-medicate. However, his prescription had recently changed, and Connors certainly didn't want to mess anything up, so going to the doctor's it was.

Unfortunately, the doctor's office involved waiting. A lot. Fortunately, Connors had brought a book. On the other hand, he hadn't brought tissues. He could feel a sneeze coming on and, after a brief period rummaging through his messenger bag and pockets, Connors realized that there wasn't anything that could pass for tissues. There was a box on a little side table near Harvey, though. ]

Excuse me, [ he said to Harvey, obviously with a stuffed up nose. ] Could you pass me the-- [ Nope, not fast enough, Connors quickly brought his hand towards his face while he turned away so as not to spread germs. He sneezed three times, before it stopped, leaving Connors with a drippy nose and a snot covered hand.

Great job, buddy. ] Could you pass me those tissues, please?

[indenture]

[ Harvey's holding one of the tissues to the side of his face, staring down at the pages of a magazine without really reading them when he hears Connors speak to him.

Ah... he clears his throat and nods, reaching for the box of tissues with the hand not holding one to his face. ]

Here you go. [ He tries to hand it over without touching Connors bare skin to skin, if only because he's got a still-open wound that he'd hate to risk infection with. ] Are you gonna be okay, pal?

[reptiledysfunction]

[ Connors gingerly picks up the tissues, trying also not to touch skin to skin. Picking one up, he blew his nose, then carefully set the tissue down on the opposite side of him, away from Harvey, on another end table. ]

It's just a cold, [ he said with a weak smile, trying not to seem too out of it. ] Really, you're the one that I should be asking if he's okay. [ accompanied with a small little nod towards Harvey--he's obviously talking about his wound. ]

[indenture]

Sounds like a bad one. Try not to catch pneumonia before winter hits.

[ Harvey says it a little wryly, though there's some sincerity to the concern as well, however detached.

After a pause, he shakes his head and says: ]

I'm fine. Just a shaving accident -- cut myself a little deeper than I meant to.

( b / DARK!! blocks )

[gevurah]

[ Harvey won't find himself alone for long in the sleepy, dark streets tonight. Out of a nearby alleyway cuts Kate, bright hair flagging her presence wherever she goes, even in the dark. She's preoccupied with the phone in her hand, but not too invested in the glow of her screen and the license plate of an odd car she's sneaked a picture of to not notice there's someone coming up the street.

She exits out of the gallery before she looks up, sharp eyes latching onto his form in the dark. Almost immediately, her expression deadpans making out who it is and her guard is up. ]

... oh, you.

[ Her voice drips with disdain.

She eyes the cut, wondering who did that to him for a moment, though not out of any concern for his welfare. ]

[indenture]

Who's--

[ But as if he has to ask; Harvey recognizes her voice even before his attention and the rest of his mind catches up, his eyes (eye) still lingering on his asymmetrical reflection whenever he catches a glance of it. That dripping blood, like some kind of horrible tear -- either definition of the word.

The bitch really had some kind of sixth-sense for poor timing. It's just Harvey's type of luck.

With the back of his hand he wipes idly at his face, before accusing: ]

The hell do you want?

[gevurah]

[ Her eyes narrow at the implication, as if she's there simply because he is. She would love nothing more than to have Harvey Dent out of her hair and it appears he's been making good on his stance on keeping away from her, but after all this time and seeing the real ugly underneath his skin, Kate will always have this quiet paranoia something in him is about to snap.

A fist of hers balls lightly, her gaze scrutinizing. ]

Contrary to whatever you believe, I have no interest in you.

[ Lies, of course, not that she lets it show. Not before him of all people. ]

[indenture]

If you really had no interest in me, why won't you ever leave me alone? You're always there. Watching me, waiting for something.

[ Harvey stands there defensively, hands clenched tightly so that the knuckles are strained and nearly white.

He barks a short laugh then, holding out his hands to either side. ]

Well, go ahead and watch! I've never felt better, Kane! Time for you to find another scapegoat, I guess!

B

[notdaredevil]

[ Matt has known this confrontation needed to happen for awhile. Since Frank's disappearance, and the revelation of what had happened to his eye. But his own life had taken priority; repairing relations with Lil, continuing to build up his own firm, trying to catch any possible hint of a clue he can chase down from a legal end. Something that doesn't involve mucking around with possible gods. He'd let Harvey go to ground, turning over the possibilities in his mind, the anger and the uncertainty and all the things he didn't know. The possibility he hadn't wanted to be true.

He smells the blood first, before he even hears the sound of Harvey's heart, unsettled and nervous in the way of injury. Smell has always guided him best in times like these, and he follows it now, waiting to see what Harvey's going to do from a safe distance. Go back to an office, apparently; touching the names on the door tell him it's Harvey's office, a surprise. Maybe he's doing better than Matt thought. Or maybe he's just hiding it well.

Breaking into a building is child's play. So is slipping into Harvey's office when he's distracted with something else, a menacing figure in red. They're going to have it out. Matt wants his answers, and he wants to know, here and now, if he has to do something about Harvey Dent. ]

[indenture]

[ The sound of his own heart is still loud in Harvey's ears, but he hears -- or thinks he does -- someone else inside his office soon enough. At first he wonders if it's his imagination; he's keyed up and paranoid, still bleeding painlessly, but did he lock the door behind him? Did he close it? How did he know he was the one that split his own face open, exactly?

He doesn't. He keeps still, breathing slowly and holding his sleeve to his face, trying to settle down and convince himself he's alone while also trying to listen for any noise at all that might prove otherwise. Footsteps. Breathing. The turn of a doorknob. It turns out it's unnecessary; the sight of Daredevil, swathed in shadows, is hard to miss. ]

I thought you only visited on special occasions. Or is this one?

[notdaredevil]

You tell me, Harvey.

[ There's that confirmed: he's anxious, but there's no jump in pulse, no change in the hormones of his sweat that would speak to the sort of surprise that comes with confronting a costumed stranger. Harvey knows, or at least knows Daredevil, the costume. But the context of what he says is lost on Matt; does he mean Matt himself, or Daredevil? Does he make that distinction?

It wouldn't surprise him, if Harvey did. ]

[indenture]

[ Harvey looks at Matt flatly, one eyebrow raised in wordless question. He sits back down, staring at Matt, barely blinking.

Then he stands again quickly, palms flat against the desk top as he leans forward. ]

How am I supposed to do that? You know what time it is? I'm closed. [ He points to his door, the hours listed on the glass there displaying in reverse from inside. Cautiously, he continues: ] Why are you here?