Night 02: Fortune Favors the Blood of Old Gotham

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     Gotham was falling. It was falling hard and fast. Damn near gone were the olden days when crime was more of an elegant affair of violence and negotiations. Crime and business were kept out of the crowded streets and definitely away from the women and children. If a hood wanted to rip off a broad, they'd have to think twice and realize they'd have to answer to the district's boss. God helped the man if the boss found out. Women and children were a different class and to the most respected gang leader, they were never to be harmed. Crime was suppose to be a man's game, but the world was changing. Gotham was no exception. Nowadays women were a part of the action, using their wiles and charms to brutally beat their way into the bigger games in town. Hell, most of the East End was ran by high class killer females who ran their businesses like clockwork and churned out profit and clientele almost as fast as the old bosses. If it wasn't so dammed impressive, it would've been a dammed disgrace. The high societal crooks and thieves were still the same: stuffing their pockets with as many depraved greedy souls as they could without getting caught. So long as their assets and reputations remained squeaky clean, crime was good for business and usually the "help" took care of itself in the end.

     Yes Gotham was infested with corrupt government officials, police commissioners and politicians, but she stood like the rock she was carved out of with her crooked spine. Carmine Falcone could attest to that. He was the current ringleader in the racket and was there when Gotham first took its new breath of organized crime air. He knew how things should've been ran and how to maintain his people. Carmine ran his people in the same manner his father taught him: with one hand of class and mercy and the other of righteous punishment and brutal honesty. Through his cultivated terror and fair play Carmine rose to enough power to be dubbed 'The Roman' with all of the city as his kingdom. From his throne he laid witness to the rising and falling of so many talented and hack wannabe kingpins, assassins, territory leaders and politicians. Lord knows Carmine saw enough of those guys break over backwards (in some cases quite literally) trying to reach Gotham's golden honeypot at the end of the rainbow. He flipped his newspaper and saw yet another name in the long list of suckers.

"Poor Dent. He was such a handsome boy." the old man sighed.

     He turned another page. Another name came to him.

"Ah...young Mr. Wayne. How the hell did you get caught up in all this?"

As Falcone read about Bruce's charity event turned nightmare, his brow furrowed in disgust and a twinge of fear. The headline read: 'The Batman: The Angelic Savior or Demonic Doom of Gotham?'. Carmine's eyes flashed right to left as he devoured the story of Wayne Manor being visited by a demonic beast who was supposedly Batman to save the day from a group of inexperienced robbers looking to steal the event's money. The article continued detailing how the monstrous Batman appeared via being spewed from a woman's throat as a mass of darkness and shadows and brought the entire party to a standstill. By the time the event was over, many of Gotham's elite were vowing to never again return to the haunted mansion. What the heck was the world coming to when the rich and famous wanted nothing to do with Wayne Manor? Having read enough, Falcone rose from his chair and went to his desk. He picked up the phone and dialed.

     "This is Carmine Falcone. Don't bother feigning ignorance, you know who I am. I'd like to see Mr. Wayne as soon as possible...yes, today would be nice....Young woman I have little time to work out all the details with you so you tell your boss that he's to expect me within the hour...Yes....Thank you very much you've been very helpful."

Carmine hung up the phone and went for his coat. The door to his office opened. The old man was quick on his feet and reached into his coat for his gun at the sound of the door, only to stop when he noticed a woman poked her head through.

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