walking beside the guilty and the innocent

[indenture]

WHO: HARVEY DENT and YOU
WHERE: Around.
WHEN: 4/24 - 4/30 (specify!)
WHAT: Harvey Dent has put on his happy face and is ready to share it to the world.
WARNINGS: TBD, will edit as needed.


I. HARVEY ☆ INSIDE AND OUTSIDE HEROPA'S LIBRARY ☆ DAYTIME, ALL DAYS

It's with great determination and self-control unlike any he's had to embrace in years that Harvey is able to make it through a day without flipping his coin every other minute, although he hasn't kicked the habit entirely. It still comes out for the tougher decisions here and there, but for the most part Harvey's mind feels strangely at peace. He feels at peace and wonders distantly if he's deluding himself in feeling that way.

It's been years since he's tried this, longer still since he's really lived a life that could even abstractly be called normal, and even having gone through the surgery Harvey isn't sure he can make this work. Sooner or later, Two-Face always makes himself heard again. He always acts so that Harvey can't forget he's never completely alone. If it were only for Matt's sake this time Harvey would dismiss the idea, but it isn't -- somehow, he's found himself with people that have some amount of faith that he can do this, and it's a strange, uneasy feeling being believed in again. Inspiring, but...

... But right now, his mind is quiet; all he hears are his own thoughts, his own breathing, the soft sound of pages turning as he refreshes himself at the library -- sometimes sitting indoors, sometimes outside at a picnic table with his coat off to enjoy the sun -- brushing up on Heropa law so he can consider retaking the Bar Exam. He spends most of his time there, taking breaks occasionally to grab lunch or coffee somewhere before returning to his studies.

II. TWO-FACE ★ CENTRAL HEROPA ★ EVENING, THE 28TH

The plastic surgery is impeccable, far better than anything he could have gotten back home in Gotham. The technology in this world is far more advanced, and cosmetic reconstruction has certainly benefited from it; the jagged edges of glass from the broken car window in front of him cast unsteady shadows across his face, darkening his eyes in contrast to the thatch of light that hits his cheek from the streetlamp, engulfing his expression like teeth. Shards litter the sidewalk, sparkling like glitter, and he turns his eyes to the inactive spotlight atop the police car's roof before he moves on before whichever cop left it parked there sees fit to return.

About a block away is when he stops at a corner and begins to pluck splinters of glass from his bleeding hand, noting that the surgery has held well even then. The hand is bleeding, but the scars still don't show.

"It was a bad idea," he says to himself -- more than literally -- as he pries a particularly large piece from his palm, holding it up so he can admire it in the light. He touches it to his forehead, marking the center with a small splotch of blood.

Comments

[glassbox]

[ The woman's always had a blatant way of looking at people -- and it's obvious that she isn't sure exactly what she ought to make of what she sees. While his scarred side hadn't ever truly fazed her, the difference is stark now, to state the obvious. It takes her a moment before she processes the question he's asked her. ]

...S'pose not.

[ Another little beat, before she turns fully, coming back towards him a few steps. ]

This is new.

[indenture]

The opposite of new, actually.

[ He shrugs and smirks in a tense, wry sort of way, glancing down at the pages of his book before he levels his gaze on her again. ]

To me, I mean -- you're looking at the old me. Closest thing there'll ever be.

[glassbox]

[ She does look at him -- really looks at him, something like uncertainty still lingering openly on her face. After a moment though, she helps herself to the seat across from him at the picnic table, setting her bag down on the bench beside her as she considers him with a slightly tilted head. ]

So, what. [ Lil finally speaks up again, not averting her gaze -- though she never did before either. ] Y'jus' decided t'up an' get that fixed one mornin'?

[indenture]

[ The way she looks at him makes Harvey uncertain, somewhat, but he continues smiling in a calm sort of way. His overall manner is less agitated, the kind you might expect from a good-looking, successful, but somewhat forcibly humbled man. ]

No. I was inspired to get back into Law. And-- [ He pauses. ] It helps if you look the part, I've found.

[glassbox]

[ It's strange. She recognizes him, and at the same time, she doesn't. His smile is calm -- and foreign, in that way. She's still trying to fully convince herself that she's sitting across from the same Harvey Dent. The look on her face is somewhere between curiosity and skepticism. ]

Guess it does.

[ A little beat. ]

So. What inspired you?

[indenture]

[ He raises his eyebrow a little cheekily, but says nothing immediately. He shrugs half-way, in admission and uncertainty, before he finally says: ]

Hard to say.

[ There are a few answers to that question. ]

We have enough lawyers around that I thought maybe the state of the system here wouldn't be so broken... or hopeless. We need people to keep the scales on balance.

[glassbox]

[ She purses her lips a bit, that skepticism lingering on her face. It isn't necessarily an unfriendly look -- but perplexed maybe. This is, in her opinion, a big change to make. It's hard to fathom that she'd been so distracted with her own personal affairs that somehow, while her back was turned, Harvey Dent seemed to become a new man. She almost feels like she missed out a little, on watching this transformation.

They aren't precisely friends, but they aren't enemies either. Not in her book. ]

Balance. Sure. [ Finally, a small reprieve as she glances away absently. ] Guess now I know a few folks I can call if I ever need a lawyer.

[indenture]

[ A new man is a good way to look at it -- or an old one, more accurately. A dead one, some might say, although Harvey himself is not presently inclined to say the same. He has to hope this is a change for the better or else he knows he has no chance for success.

Even then, he doesn't know. He doesn't think about it too much or else he might just get caught up in angry thoughts of failure. ]

Feel free -- I'll probably be stuck doing defense for a while, so I'll need clients. [ A pause. ] But I wouldn't encourage you to do anything that'd make you need a lawyer.

[glassbox]

[ That makes her quirk a vague, wry smile. ]

Y'tellin' me t'stay outta trouble?

[ That feels like it should be ironic somehow. It's surreal, having this kind of conversation with him. It's still surreal to look at him, sitting there across from her. ]

Can't make any promises. Y'know I did a stint in jail for bein' an accomplice t'murder, back in the day?

[indenture]

I'm suggesting it to you in the most professional way possible.

[ He blinks at her, shrugging his shoulders and sitting back enough so that he can prop his feet up on the table. It's not like he's getting any studying done just now anyway. ]

Who did you help murder?

[glassbox]

[ It's a bit strange to talk about now -- it happened so long ago, it almost feels like another lifetime. It might as well have been, considering everything she's been through since then. At the time, she'd been reckless, angry, and slightly mind-controlled. Not a great combination for making good life choices. ]

His name was Mac Hudson. The "Guardian." Big name Canadian superhero, a while back. Folks weren't happy about it.

[ She exhales, shrugging her shoulders lightly. ]

Did my time though.

[indenture]

[ For all the plastic surgery and law books around him, Harvey doesn't seem judgmental in the least to hear about this -- and of course, why would he be? It'd be hypocritical of him in a way he is rarely guilty of. He just nods, shrugging his shoulders well. ]

Then you did your time. You're not responsible for any more than that, except making sure you don't make the same mistake again.

[glassbox]

[ She isn't self-conscious of her story either way. Her past is something she tries not to have to many regrets about, despite how ugly parts of it are. There's no surgery to fix that kind of thing, is there? ]

How d'you make sure y'don't make a certain kinda mistake anyway? Folks make mistakes, y'know.

[ She absently tucks hair behind her ear, glancing off a bit as she speaks. ]

That's what y'got lawyers for, ain't it?

[indenture]

[ Harvey runs his hand through his hair, which is slicked back except for the the curl that hangs over his forehead -- the left side is even and looks real as the right, despite being mostly implanted or extensions. ]

They do make mistakes. But some of them are more obvious -- you know that, Lil. Commit murder or assault, push people off of b-- [ A pause. ] bridges, you got to expect consequences.

I'm not interested in defending guilty criminals.

[glassbox]

[ She imagines they're both thinking it. Remembering how he'd pushed her into the water that day. That quick change of words, the corrected phrasing -- it doesn't fully divert her thoughts from the memory. But she'd already decided to let that go, so she doesn't call attention to it, though her stare, when it finds his face, is slightly harder somehow. ]

Y'ain't interested in defendin' guilty criminals.

[ She echoes him, watching him. ]

Y'mean y'ain't interested in defendin' folks like y'self?

[indenture]

[ Harvey's eyebrows lower down over his eyes, his expression solemn and a bit tense. His eyes narrow, looking at her as if she said something offensive. ]

No, I'm not. [ It's firm, decisive, and after he says it he glides his eyes off of Lil to stare forward. He looks at the book sitting in front of him and at his curled hand within which his coin is gripped tightly. ] The law protecting the guilty is one of the biggest and most clear corruptions of justice inherent in the entire system. Everyone's entitled to a lawyer, but I'm entitled to choose who I don't want to represent.

[glassbox]

Guess there wouldn't be a whole lotta use in callin' y'then. Seein' as I'd probably only ever need a lawyer if I'd actually done somethin' bad.

[ Which she isn't necessary above, either. Bad things, that is. Sure, the woman is reformed enough and it isn't as if she has any deep, vicious desire to do evil to anyone. But she is reckless. And passionate. And violent. That combination always leads to trouble eventually.

Still, she only shrugs, not entirely serious when she goes on mildly: ]

Guess there's always Matt.

[indenture]

Innocent people need lawyers too. And not every guilty person is necessarily a criminal.

[ He raises his eyebrow then, before shrugging his own shoulders in turn. Not that it matters too much -- he's not out to argue semantics. "Guilty criminals," to him, means something specific, not some thug who robbed a jewelry store or something. There's a reason he's normally prosecution.

Harvey tenses at the mention of Matt's name. ]

Matt has integrity. Don't force him to represent a murderer.

[glassbox]

I ain't a murderer.

[ Lil eyes him for a long moment, confrontational. She sees the way he tenses at the mention of Matt Murdock -- she remembers, how he'd asked her not to tell Matt what had happened that day on the boat. There's something there, even if she doesn't know exactly what it is.

Finally, she leans onto the table, reaching across it purposefully pat him on the cheek in a way that isn't entirely friendly before she withdraws. ]

Y'might got this pretty new face, but I know you're still you under that.

[indenture]

[ Harvey eyes her back, something darker in his gaze then; his eyes narrow, brows low, and that lock of hair casts a shadow down his face to his pursed, scowling upper lip.

He pulls back from her touch, hand lifting as if he expects her to grab him, or rip at his face, try to undo his hard work. When she doesn't, he almost relaxes, but not entirely.

Definitively and defensively, he says: ]

This is me. Who do you think I am, Lil?

[glassbox]

[ Her eyes narrow at him slightly. She can't explain why exactly -- she didn't sit down with him to pick a fight, that wasn't her intention at all -- but she suddenly feels a little volatile, now that they've come to this subject. ]

I ain't gonna bring up what happened between us, 'cause I said I'd let it go.

[ She leans forward, lowering her voice. ]

But I know what y'did t'Frank Castle. An' I ain't let go of that yet.

[indenture]

[ Harvey frowns, the lines beneath his eyes and across his forehead standing out more starkly when he does even if it does little to ripple his "attractiveness." It's a drawn expression, past the point of stern but not quite hitting angry.

Not quite. The color rising in his cheeks indicates he's close and perhaps, with effort, keeping it down. ]

Don't know what you're talking about. [ He says it stiffly, his voice also low. ] But I'm sure Frank Castle had whatever it was coming to him. Calling me a criminal -- what about him?

[glassbox]

[ Her own expression skirts the border of angry too -- intense, but not yet bad tempered. She's focused on him almost singularly, as if it's important to her somehow to get to the bottom of this, to know him and what's going on here, underneath the surface of his newly handsome face.

It's hard to say if she understands why herself. ]

It ain't about bein' a criminal or not. [ She's always been more of a morally grey type anyway. ] It's about hypocrisy, Harv.

[indenture]

Don't call me a hypocrite.

[ He feels his temper, hot and blunt like a hammer, strike against his temples as if trying to escape. His back teeth grind together and his hands shake slightly, though he tries to still them. ]

Don't talk to me about hypocrisy. [ He flings his law book off the table. ] What the hell do you want? What do you want?

[glassbox]

[ She doesn't flinch. But not a lot of things can get her to flinch anymore, not after what she's been through. When his book flies off the table, it draws her attention -- a fleeting distraction -- before her stare finds his face again, a frown drawing at the corners of her generous mouth. ]

Maybe I jus' want you t'know that y'ain't foolin' me.

[ She tilts her head up at him. ]

I lived with you, Harv. An' I survived you. I know y'better than y'might want me to.