15362/Dichotomous Interludes

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Dichotomous Interludes
Date of Scene: 19 July 2023
Location: The Fifty/Fifty Club
Synopsis: As Two-Face gears up for war in Gotham, a certain ninja surreptitiously raids his luxurious club.
Cast of Characters: Two-Face, Batman

Two-Face has posed:
The Fifty/Fifty Club is pretty quiet at this moment. It's night but it's not night enough for the place to be popping yet. That's even if it's going to open up tonight considering that considering that The Two Face Gang has taken over this side of the club for the time being.

The gang are sitting at a pair of tables and Two-Face is sitting on a seat in the middle of both of them. His two-tone suit jacket is draped across the back of his seat and his mismatched shirt and suspenders are making his outfit look as torn down the middle as he is. Also his chosen seat.

"How're we lookin' for this month?" Two-Face's question is pretty calm and relaxed at the moment. Which means that maybe his coin has decided to be a nice one today.

"Uh, we been runnin' the numbers, Boss."

"Yeah and it ain't lookin' too good, y'know?"

"Scarface? He's dippin' into our take all over the city."

"Yeah, peoples is payin' /him/ so theys don'ts gotta pays /us/."

The side of Two-Face's face that can actually move twitches just slightly but his grip on his coin keeps him from flipping out immediately. "Then. Let's /handle/ him."
Batman has posed:
Every surface posh, every accruement a mark of class and luxury. Yet the heart of the Fifty/Fifty thumps a crooked, black beat. It's a strange reflection of its master in ways that the Dark Knight prefers not to dwell on; a mirror on much of society in broader panorama. At least Harvey wears his shadowed half overtly; but then... masks serve many purposes.

The ominous words Two-Face utters are hardly the first murmurs of gang war that Batman has heard in recent nights, his suit's parabolic suite tuned to give the Caped Crusader near perfect ears on the conversation below as he slips silently from shadow to shadow atop the rigging and catwalks connecting the space above the high-end club's stage. In a sense, the Bat is indeed a performer, tonight-- but it's a stage show no one is meant to see; at least just yet.

From angle to angle he snoops, capturing the faces of all those gathered one after another as advanced algorithms begin connecting those mugshots to others-- to criminal histories, to life stories. The hoodlums are not infinite nor nameless-- each has dreams, each has nightmares, each has their strengths... and places where pressure will surely fold them in half.

Setting up behind a stage light for ample cover, shrowded in cape and cowl, the Bat begins analyzing the data gathered on the club's wireless networks-- and/or following thermal sensors towards Dent's on-site computer hardware, should such exist. Harvey -is- a notoriously old school fellow.
Two-Face has posed:
Two-Face is mostly focused on the fact that there are a lot of quiet mouths around the tables full of his gang. He looks around at each of them and they all seem to have the same expression on their face. One that's mostly confused. There's a reason that they are not saying or suggesting anything and even Harvey's well versed enough to know what it is. He just wants to hear them say it.

"Well?" Thus the leading question that comes from Two-Face complete with an impatient tone behind it.

"Uh? Boss? How the hell are we supposed to handle a puppet?"

Even Two-Face offers an amused grin at the question. A grin that almost says how proud he is that one of his gang members had the audacity to say something. "Good question." Harvey spins his coin between his fingers. "Off the top of our head? We're thinking a wood chipper."

It's true the each and every member of the Two Face Gang has a whole laundry list of things to exploit. Most of them are just working for Harvey to get some easy money. It's a dangerous gig but sometimes they can go for weeks at a time without ever having to pull a heist. It all depends on Harvey and his coin.

ANd while the majority of Two-Face's 'work' is hard copy and hidden away, there are still a few members of the Two Face Gang that handle the more lucrative and online criminality of trying to bring the Two Faceness into the modern times.

It'll take a while.

Either way, they are easily hackable and there is a bunch of admissible evidence that doesn't lead back to Harvey but at the very least could put some of his Gang away.
Batman has posed:
It's almost reassuring that the focus of this operation is, at least for now, on the Ventriloquist's Dummy. It's... not the obvious solution Batman thought of first, and froze tense in his stance to hear out, that's for sure; but that's crime in Gotham City, some days. It would be funny, if it were a bit less tragic.

The Caped Crusader merely frowns, deeply. A magnetic parabolic receiver continues feeding the conversation at the table to the Dark Knight's suit as he creeps along towards the record room, dropping silently at an opportune moment and slipping within in one smooth motion; too graceful, too precise, too surreptitious for a man of Batman's size.

The room beyond is abandoned, something that thermal scans confirmed before his entry, and the Batman skips no beats in that decisively fluid series of movements getting to work. A cable from his suit is plugged into the system's highest speed external port, and as if the entire thing was already infected-- which indeed seems likely-- the data begins backing itself up wholesale to the batsuit's onboard solid-state storage. This isn't the first time he's had to hunt Harvey, however-- and the Caped Crusader knows how his old friend operates.

A tiny pressurized nozzle is applied to the locks on each hefty filing cabinet and lockbox, the compound sprayed within quickly hardening and moulding itself to a decidedly key-shaped construct. One after another, the Dark Knight pops the locks, and photographs the hard copy documents secreted within as swiftly as he can. Notably, he does this by flipping through them, as if uselessly skimming through the pile. The lenses in his cowl capture everything in high-resolution, perfectly focused glory, nonetheless.
Two-Face has posed:
If there's one thing that can be said about Two-Face, it's that he gets pretty comfortable when he's in his own space. Without actually being up to anything untoward, there's no reason for either of his minds to be thinking that the Batman is lurking around his space. And with the Fifty/Fifty Club being his own turf, there's definitely no one crazy enough to try and invade his personal space.

Especially with the amount of Tommy Guns around.

"Maybe we give ol' Scarface a call. Maybe we have a little meeting. See if we can split Gotham down the middle. We might be willing to negotiate." Two-Face is obviously just spitballing here from his seat between both of those tables.

"But iffin' the little bastard don't wanna' play ball?" Two-Face's grin is playfully sinister in that next moment. "Maybe we take an axe to his skull?" That comment makes him pause. "Jimmy?"

"Yeah, boss?"

"Buy an axe. Two of 'em."

While Jimmy makes a note to go shopping for a couple of axes, the inner sanctum of all of Two-Face's paperwork and computer files are wide open to the Caped Crusader. There's nothing incriminating more than paperwork as all the actual money and guns and drugs are likely at different locations over the city. The Fifty/Fifty Club seems to be where he's keeping track of things.
Batman has posed:
As the financial and logistical documents are scanned into digitally photographic memory, the Batman's own far more state of the art systems begin working on it. It's not just scanning for obvious links-- other properties mentioned or recorded, shipping channels or financial institutions Harvey favors, etc-- but breaking down the ink used. The type of printer. Cross-referencing every logo, routing number, and signature found within with the substantial records both local and in ~the cloud~ that the Dark Knight has access to; one way or the other.

As he finishes with each stack or folder, it's replaced with near perfect precision right where he found it, down to a single bent corner on certain pages. A second tank replaces the first on his belt, and the Caped Crusader locks the so very secure storage right back down, then sprays the new compound into the locks. His makeshift keys dissolve, and by all appearances... nothing has even been disturbed. The computer system, similarly, returns obliviously to its previous state as the Bat unplugs, backs up his back up, and scans the room outside to choose a wise egress.

'An entire horde of Chicago Typewriters' isn't the worst danger he's faced down this week, but Batman can do without angry swarms of .45 screaming his way. Rather than trying to guage the orientation and attention of the vague heated shapes his scan reveals, the Dark Knight releases a small spherical object from his belt. This micro-drone hovers all but silently-- since Wolverine isn't here-- and exits the room first.

This drone floats smoothly up towards the ceiling, scans its surroundings, and projects an artificial still-frame of the space behind over the corridor the Batman then uses to exit back into the rafters, slipping into the shadows from whence he came-- and right back towards that presently uninstalled window secreted near the roof. The hologram behind him would never stand up to close scrutiny or passage-- but it doesn't need to. It lasts mere instants, in the end, before the micro-drone sweeps back to his armored hand, and is latched to the Bat's legendary belt.
Two-Face has posed:
Two-Face will let fate decide with a pivotal coin toss: \<span style="color:xterm92"\>Scarred Side!\</span\>
Two-Face has posed:
The coin belonging both to Harvey Dent and Two-Face twirls through the air before landing in the open palm of Two-Face. There's almost a twitch as he stares at the Scarred Side for just a moment and there's even a shift in the way he's acting now. Two-Face has taken over completely at this point and now things are a bit more intense.

"Alright." Two-Face pushes up to his feet and grabs his jacket, slipping it on and smoothing it out. "What say we go leave ol' woodgrain for brains a message? Hm?"

The collective of The Two Face Gang seems to be both worried and ready for action. Two-Face being in control is a little more complicated. Any of them could get shot at any time now so they are going to have to be on their toes. Two-Face is crazy.

"How we gonna' do that, Boss?"

Two-Face grins. "Dunno. Maybe we blow up a warehouse or two of his." Two-Face starts leading the way towards the exit. "We'll decide on the way."

Almost as if on cue, Two-Face's coin glints from the club's lighting as he puts the coin into his pocket. Time for some mindless violence.